Blurb Idea- Kid Thinking She'll Show Off A Bit When She Takes Jack Out Dancing, But Given How He's Used

Beach Fight and Tides of Forgiveness — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Y/N and Rafe confront their painful past after a chaotic beach fight between Y/N and Ruthie but begin to reconnect, exploring the possibility of a hopeful future together.

Rafe Cameron x Ex!Reader (season 4 spoiler alert!)

Warning : Swearing (english is not my first language)

A/N : Probably the longest fic I've ever written so far, it's like around 2.3k ish, and i think this was a request from @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd , hope u like it 🩵

For us Pogues, the beach wasn’t just a place to visit—it was like our second home, a refuge where we felt truly ourselves. The salty breeze, the endless horizon, and the warmth of the sand beneath our feet brought a kind of peace that was hard to find anywhere else. The sound of waves crashing and seagulls chirping in the distance seemed to wash away our worries, making everything feel better, if only for a little while. There's nothing better than a day off with the people you love the most, in a place that feels like home—the beach.

“Don’t you just immediately feel like everything’s better at the beach?” Kie said, her gaze sweeping across the shoreline as she took in the sun, sand, and waves.

I nodded in silent agreement, sharing the same unspoken understanding that nothing compared to the serenity of the ocean. Together, we began setting up the chairs and cool box, the salty breeze tugging at our hair as the waves crashed in the distance. “Let’s get these boards off!” JJ exclaimed with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he headed toward the Twinkie to unload the surfboards, ready to dive into the thrill of the surf.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, catching sight of Topper and his friends’ trucks rolling toward us, their engines rumbling louder as they approached. “You’re joking,” Sarah sighed, exasperation clear in her voice as she rolled her eyes at the unwelcome sight. “Don’t stop,” JJ mumbled, focused on untying the ropes securing our surfboards to the top of the Twinkie, clearly determined not to let their arrival ruin our plans. “Anywhere but here,” Kie added with a frustrated tone, her eyes narrowing as she watched them close in, the tension in the air thickening with every second.

“Great, just the perfect time,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes as their trucks came to a halt and parked just a few meters away from us. The sudden noise and presence of Topper and his friends felt like a dark cloud looming over our sunny day, threatening to ruin the fun we had planned.

“Let’s go, baby!” The voice rang out, unmistakable and familiar, stirring a rush of memories within me. The one that used to comfort me in moments of doubt, the one that whispered soothing words to ease my fears. Rafe Cameron had a way of making everything feel right, his presence a warm embrace that felt like home. I turned to locate the source of the voice, and our eyes met—his striking blue gaze locking onto mine. The moment stretched, the world around us fading away as the connection lingered just a heartbeat too long. All of a sudden, Topper strode toward us with an air of confidence. “Sunshine's coming,” JJ remarked, earning an exasperated sigh from John B as he stepped closer to him. Though I couldn’t quite hear their conversation, they appeared surprisingly relaxed, exchanging easy banter that contrasted with the tension in the air.

We all surfed the waves together, and it felt utterly exhilarating. After months spent chasing the elusive City of Gold, finally engaging in something I was truly passionate about was a refreshing escape. The thrill of surfing, the salty spray of the ocean, and the laughter of friends combined to create a blissful sense of freedom that was simply amazing.

After surfing for what felt like hours, I made my way back to the shore, slipping into my denim shorts. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!” Kie exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “Y/N, look!” I rushed over to her, my heart racing as I squealed, “Oh my god!” In awe, I added, “They’re so tiny!” Sarah and I echoed each other, our voices filled with wonder at the sight of the adorable little turtles making their way to the ocean. I have always had a deep love for sea creatures, particularly turtles and dolphins. This passion is what drew Kie and me together, as we bonded over our shared fascination for the ocean's incredible inhabitants.

As we helped the tiny turtles by creating paths for them to reach the ocean, the sudden roar of a truck engine interrupted our focus. My gaze shifted to Topper’s girlfriend, Ruthie, at the wheel, with Topper himself lounging in the passenger seat. “Hey, stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, desperation lacing my voice. “Stop!” Kie added, jumping up and waving her arms frantically. “Guys, stop!” I shouted again, but the truck only sped up, closing the distance between us. In a split second, Sarah yanked me out of the way just as the truck barreled past, sending me tumbling into the sand with a startled grunt.

“Are you okay?” Sarah, Kie, and JJ asked in unison. I managed a quiet “I'm fine,” but a sinking feeling twisted in my stomach as I noticed the truck circling around again, this time picking up speed. Panic surged through me, and I jumped to my feet. “Stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of the engine as they barreled over the paths we had painstakingly created for the turtles. “No, no, no…no!” I gasped, horror washing over me as I watched the truck crush a few of the fragile creatures beneath its wheels. My heart raced as I rushed toward them, my pulse pounding in my ears. Kie knelt beside a turtle with a shattered shell, its life flickering away. “Fucking psycho,” she muttered, her eyes brimming with anger and sorrow. I felt a fire ignite within me, furious at their reckless disregard. Ignoring my friends’ calls, I stormed over to where they stood, determined to confront them.

“Look what you did!” I shouted, cradling the lifeless turtles in my hands. “Do you think this is okay?” Ruthie stole a quick glance at the broken shells before quickly averting her eyes. “No, look at it!” I protested, my voice rising with anger. “You drove right over a turtle hatch, you idiots!” Rafe stood beside Topper, who tried to diffuse the situation. “I understand you're upset, Y/N,” he said, his tone calm but unhelpful. I hadn't even noticed my friends were behind me, their expressions mirroring my shock and frustration. “I’m more than upset, Topper” I shot back, feeling the heat of my anger.

“Look, it was only one,” Ruthie interjected dismissively, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “I mean, there are so many more of them,” she pointed out, trying to minimize the damage. “You know what? You should just throw that to the seagulls,” she added with a mocking tone. “Cycle of life, right?”

My breath quickened as rage boiled within me, and I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed her hard, and just as she prepared to retaliate, Rafe stepped in between us, his presence a barrier against her aggression.

“Stop,” he said firmly, pushing Ruthie’s arm away before she could retaliate. He turned to me, his eyes softening slightly. “There’s something seriously wrong with you people,” I shot back, turning on my heel and striding away, handing Sarah the lifeless turtle.

“That’s right, go back to your side, bitch! You don’t belong with us anymore!” Ruthie shouted, her words laced with venom.

That was the final straw. Rage coursed through me, boiling over as I stormed toward her, every ounce of frustration and hurt fueling my movements. Without thinking, I swung my fist and connected hard with her jaw. The impact reverberated through me, and for a heartbeat, everything froze—the shocked look on Ruthie's face, the collective gasps of my friends.

She recovered quickly, her eyes blazing with anger. Without hesitation, she lunged at me, landing a swift punch that connected with my nose. The sharp pain shot through my face, and I felt warm blood begin to trickle down. I stumbled back, shocked by the sudden turn of events, my hands instinctively going to my face. John B tried to step in, attempting to intervene but Rafe was a lot quicker than him.

“Control your crazy bitch, Top!” Rafe said, his gaze locked onto me with a mix of concern and frustration. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Like you care,” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and stormed off, seeking refuge at my secret spot on the beach alone.

I perched on top of a massive rock, my knees drawn to my chest as I hugged them tightly, listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing below. This spot was my sanctuary, the place I retreated to whenever I felt at my lowest. It never failed to calm me, wrapping me in a cocoon of peace. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me. I turned to find Rafe standing there, his silhouette framed by the fading light. He climbed onto the rock and settled beside me.

“I didn’t give you permission to sit here,” I protested weakly, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance.

“It’s a public place,” he replied, his voice steady as he leaned back against the rock.

I fell silent, my gaze drifting to the horizon as the sun dipped lower in the sky, lost in a swirl of memories and thoughts. “How did you know I’d be here?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He turned to me, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “We used to come here together, remember? You told me it was your favorite spot.” A sigh escaped me, heavy with longing. God, I missed those days—when everything felt simpler and the weight of the world was lighter.

“Here,” he said, breaking through my thoughts as he handed me a tissue for my bloody nose. I took it, our fingers brushing briefly. “Thanks,” I murmured, grateful for the gesture and the warmth of his presence.

“That was a pretty great punch, by the way,” Rafe said, a playful grin breaking through the tension. The corners of my mouth turned upward, and I let out a small chuckle, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. We fell into a silence that felt strangely comfortable— not awkward at all. Despite the distance that had grown between us since our breakup, I still felt an undeniable sense of safety around him, as if we were wrapped in a bubble of shared history.

“I missed you, Y/N,” he confessed suddenly, his voice steady yet vulnerable.

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to look at him, shock flickering across my face. This was the moment I hadn’t expected, the admission I had longed to hear but feared would never come.

“I missed you too, Rafe,” I sighed, the words flowing out of me, heavy with unspoken feelings and memories of our laughter, our late-night talks, and the way he could make me feel like the only person in the world. “I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he continued, his expression earnest, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m clean now, Y/N. Haven’t touched those shits for almost five months.”

“Really?” I asked, my disbelief melting into pride. I felt a swell of admiration for his strength and determination, and it made my heart ache a little.

He nodded, a flicker of vulnerability dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, I realized I couldn’t keep dragging you into my mess. I needed to change— for myself and for you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Rafe,” I said, my voice warm and genuine. I reached out, resting my hand on his for a brief moment, feeling the warmth radiate between us. A smile broke across his face, illuminating his features. “I did it all so I could be better for you,” he admitted, his sincerity wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. The air between us crackled with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to rekindle the bond we once had.

“Can we at least try to work things out?” he asked, his gaze steady and hopeful. I paused, contemplating his words. He may have been a jerk to everyone else, but with me, he was sweet, protective, and loyal. The thought stirred something deep within me, a flicker of hope in the depths of my heart. “I’m not ready to be in a relationship again, Rafe—maybe just for now,” I finally replied, my voice softer than before. The truth of my feelings hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, a reassuring smile breaking through his earlier concern. “We’ll take things slow. I’ll wait until you’re ready, alright?” The sincerity in his eyes made my heart flutter, a mix of apprehension and excitement dancing in my chest.

“Okay,” I smiled, a sense of warmth washing over me.

“Okay?” he repeated, his eyes lighting up with hope.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll take things slow,” I confirmed, feeling a rush of relief and anticipation. Rafe’s smile widened, and in that moment, it felt like we were stepping into a new chapter together, one where the past could fade into the background while we explored the potential of the future. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I leaned my head on his shoulder. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the air, creating a soothing rhythm that matched the beating of my heart. The warmth of his presence enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt hope stirring within me, a belief that perhaps we could find our way back to each other, not as we were before, but as something new and beautiful.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀

Brain rot so bad I’m posting on Tumblr💔

Haymitch x gn reader rambling ig?!?!

Word count: 1.2k

He’s a stubborn alcoholic with depression who copes by being rude or otherwise sarcastic, you test his patience SO MUCH. He knows he hates you, that’s about it, but also he finds a good deal of fun in goading you and bantering with you whenever you’re around. This man is a handful, and he’s mean, and he has literally no patience for bs.

Idk how you win him over, the logistics don’t matter rn I’m going nutty thinking about him. Imo I love the whole co-mentor thingy, anything that forces him to be around you bc otherwise he’s off hiding somewhere moping. Like imagine being depressed together, fighting over your different tastes in drinks or coping. He’s hugging a whole bottle of liquor or maybe wine if it’s fancy enough and he’s scrutinizing your fruity cocktail like it’s any of his business.

Especially love the thought of getting drunk with him, at this point he just falls asleep when he’s buzzed but he’s trying to stay awake just to bicker and get as much of a reaction from you as he can. The only time he shuts up is if you roast tf out of him, he’d slump down into a chair or on the couch mumbling something barely coherent and then he’s out like a light.

Or, even better, you’re both sleepy drunks and start nodding off at the bar. You barely remember the walk to bed, all you know is somehow you’re still arguing with Haymitch. He throws himself onto the mattress, your mattress, both to piss you off and because he’s too burnt out to bother walking to his own bed across the hall. You flop down next to him and then all of a sudden you’re waking up hungover and half hugging that fool. The both of you freak out to find you’re in bed with one another, fearing the worst, and eventually having to accept the harsh reality that you spent the whole night cuddling and nothing more.

He doesn’t just refuse to admit he likes you, he’s literally oblivious to even the idea of it. No he definitely doesn’t enjoy your company, and he definitely doesn’t seek you out, and there’s no way he would ever think about you outside of your brief and unfortunate interactions. But then you start joking around talking about some pretty celebrity or a handsome victor from another district and suddenly he’s so defensive.

“Her? She’s two faced.”

“Him? He’s not even average.”

“Them? They’re frugal.”

He can’t even begin to realize he’s getting jealous, he’s too busy trying to shoot down all your compliments to these half baked crushes.

But if you compliment him he thinks you’re joking. You say he looks handsome and he’s all “Haha, very funny, y’know you look good too- with your mouth shut.” He’s gonna go for the jugular, but also he finds it getting harder and harder to insult you. Since when did your annoying smile become something he could tolerate? He must still be drunk..

You’ve wormed your way into his life and his head and suddenly you’re over at his house in the Victor’s Village, cleaning up for him while talking about self care and how he deserves it. You’re infuriating, and yet his lawn is trimmed and his walkway is clear of weeds and even his bookshelves are free of dust- and maybe he should go outside for a bit today and get some fresh air.

You’re tidying everything up and then he’s bringing you some old Knick Knacks, keeping track of your hobbies so he can leave you gifts, forcing you to sit down and relax for a minute between daily stressors. You call him an enabler and the laughter that follows makes your heart all fuzzy in the worst way. Every time you do something for him he thanks you in a way that makes it clear he didn’t think anyone would ever do this for him. And when you thank him for his gifts, his occasional reality checks, and his unwilling hospitality, he can’t help but feel more proud than he should that something he did held even an ounce of substance in your life.

How do you even confess??? Do you??? It’s like one second nothing was there and the next you both just agreed that you were a thing, end of discussion. He’s yours, you’re his. You’ve basically moved in at this point, and you’ve been egging him on and showing him he’s worth the effort, and it’s starting to get through his thick skull that maybe there’s worth in improvement. You don’t fix him, as I said before, he’s stubborn, but he finds his own rationale getting weaker and weaker each time he tries to argue why he should go out for drinks tonight. And then when things break and you’re telling him just what he means to you, he’s finding himself falling into you like a damn safety net.

And once he’s got you he is not letting go.

Protective is one thing, this man is clingy. Like Velcro. But he’s a brat and he’s not going to let you tell him how needy he is, it’s just a coincidence that he’s always by your side. He’ll say he’s “keeping you in line” its “your fault” because you’re in his way, but you both know he’s been following you around on his own fruition. He’s attached to your hip at this point, literally. He has a particular affinity though, and that’s hugging you from behind. He just comes up like he owns the place and wraps his arms around your midsection, shoving his face into the back of your neck with the biggest sigh he can muster. And if you reach up to play with his hair that’s it, he’s going to drag you to whatever couch is closest and have an impromptu nap session.

Also did I mention he’s petty? Because he is. And he’s annoying unlike anything. You go to sit down in a chair? He’s already seated in it, patting for you to come into his lap. You want to try a bite of his food? He’s making you take it from his mouth. You need to shower? He’s asking to come so he can keep you company. And if you let him join you, he’s 100% sitting there watching while going on about how “you missed a spot” just to see how irritated you can get.

Letting him come into the bathroom with you when you shower is like making a deal with the devil. This man is going above and beyond for your attention while you’re trying to focus on the task at hand. He’s definitely offering to help you out, saying he can scrub your back for you and all that, it’s up to you whether you let him join or kick him out.

Either way after you’re done he’s so soft and tender, wrapping you in a towel and drying your face off, saying you look like a drowned rat while also telling you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He ruffles your hair with the towel just to squeeze it around you and grab you by your waist, pulling you until you kiss him. But if you’re still mad at him he’ll keep drying you off and messing with you until he can get you to crack a smile, and then he’s peppering kisses all over your cheeks as you push his face away.

He’s a nuisance, but he’s your nuisance, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ummm anywho that’s all I got 🙏

Send Me An Angel (Dr Jack Abbot x NurseWife!OFC)

Summary: The darkness didn't just go away because he was home, especially after a night like that, but it did start to feel a little less heavy. Eventually.

TW: 18+ content, canon typical content warnings apply, mentions of suicide and characters making light of suicide because that just how they deal, some smut, established relationship, age gap but barely mentioned (yet) , dark thoughts, angst, some fluff, nobody you love dies ... barely proofread or edited. Y'all I came out of fanfic retirement for this grumpy asshole because I love him (and Robby) so be gentle

~~~~~~~~

7:40am

Jack opened the door between the house and garage and immediately smelled breakfast cooking. He dropped his backpack by the washer and dryer and stripped his shirt off over his head. "Babe!" He dug through his bag for his scrub top and kicked out of his shoes. "I'm home!" He pulled his ID badge off his pocket, slipped his silicone wedding band back on, then took out his extra pen light, three pens he didn't remember taking and the knife out of his other poket before he dropped his pants, pulled off his socks and shoved the whole pile into the hamper labeled 'work' before he picked up his bag and headed inside.

"Clean up and come eat!" She called back from the kitchen.

"Yes ma'am!" He walked down the short hall and ducked through a door to the master bedroom. He dumped his bag on the floor by the closet and went straight for the shower where he spun the knob as hot as it would go. By the time he stepped out of his boxer briefs and stared at himself in the mirror for a minute steam was rolling over the doors.

The water burned but he didn't touch the knob. For a long moment he didn't move, just let the water run over his head while he held his breath as long as he could. Once his head began to swim, his pulse pounding in his ears and his chest tight he stepped back and took a deep breath. The darkness didn't just go away because he was home, especially after a night like that, but it did start to feel a little less heavy. Eventually.

Once he scrubbed himself clean he put on a pair of sweats and a shirt to head out to the kitchen, which smelled like biscuits and homemade gravy. Sam was in front of the stove barefoot, in a pair of what must have been very short, shorts hiding under a baggy ARMY t-shirt he was pretty sure was his. She must have actually got off work on time.

He walked up behind her to wrap his arms around her, "Hey baby" Jack kissed the side of her neck and buried his face in her still damp hair so be could breathe in the smell of her eucalyptus shampoo and antibactial soap.

Her response was cut and dry as she stirred the contents of the pan, "Robby called."

"God damn it" He dropped his forehead down to her shoulder.

"Don't be mad, he's your best friend."

"Not right now he's not." Jack looked up and turned to lean his temple against the back of her head.

"You realize if you deep throat your pistol or yeet yourself off a building I don't get your benefits right?" She still hadn't looked at him.

"Yeet?"

She scoffed, "Avoidance. Nice. Yes, yeet, just a friendly reminder that I am, technically, younger than you and I could remarry if I had to."

He stroked over her ribcage, the material of the shirt well worn and smooth against the rough pad of his thumb. He kissed the crown of her head, "Do it for the money this time."

His wife leaned back into him with an annoyed sigh, "Please don't make me get married again, Jack."

After a long, deep breath Jack pressed another kiss to the back of her head, "I won't." A kiss to the side of her neck, longer and lingering this time. "You're makin' biscuits and gravy."

Finally, she turned around to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Thought it might make you feel a little better." On her tip toes she pressed her lips to his once, and then a second time.

Jack hummed appreciatively as he kissed her back. He let his grip loosen on her enough to slide his hands down over her waist and her hips. He coaxed another, longer kiss from her as he moved to slip his hands under her shirt. He pulled up abruptly and groaned into her mouth as he touched bare skin. "You're not wearin' anything under here."

With a smile she nipped at his bottom lip, "Thought it might make you feel a little better."

With something between a chuckle and a groan he pressed his forehead down into hers. He kissed her again, with more intent this time, as he reached over to turn the stove burner off with one hand. He made her giggle as he picked her up by the waist and set her on the counter. His voice was quiet, rough as he spoke, "You're the only thing that could."

Sam let out a long, shaky breath as she pulled him closer and kissed him harder. "Don't ever leave me Jack, not like that."

His only answer was to nod and claim her mouth with his once more and drag her hips tight to his own.

"Promise me." She mumbled against his lips, her fingers tugging at the waisband of his sweats.

"Promise." He moved his kisses to the soft spot at the hinge of her jaw, and then lower, down her neck to her clavicle. When he felt her tremble slightly he smoothed his hands up her thighs and then moaned into the side of her neck as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. The fingers of her other hand were buried in the curls at the back of his neck and for a split second he couldn't imagine a life, or lack there of, without this in it, without her in it.

"Jack…" Sam's voice was breathy as she tugged at those curls, drawing him back to the present moment.

He moved back to kiss her, "I'm right here baby," Jack swept his tongue through her mouth and tugged her impossibly closer, "I'm right here." His hand pulled hers away from him, even that brief touch, the couple of minutes he'd had her in his arms, and he was already hard as a rock. As her hands moved to tug and pull at his tshirt he actually cracked a smirk, just a twitch of his lips as more of the darkness slipped away. Jack did as she wanted and stripped his shirt off before he went back to shove his sweats down just low enough to pull himself free. "Ready?" He asked the question with his lips against her ear and she shivered and nodded into his shoulder.

All the years they'd been together, the thousands of times they'd fucked, made love, fooled around, and every fucking time he slid his cock home it knocked the fucking air out of his chest. Her pussy was tight, hot and wet, already quivering around him and he finally felt alive again. Sam wrapped her legs around him tight, locked him in place and he grinned.

"God you feel so good, always feels so good." Her words snapped him out of his head again and sent a jolt straight to the base of his spine.

Suddenly alive, happy even, Jack reached to take her face in his hands and tip her up to look at him as he began to move. One slow thrust after another he kept his brown eyes locked on hers so bright and sunny, even after hearing her husband had been standing on the edge of a roof less than an hour ago. She didn't look away from him, not until his hips were snapping into hers hard enough for her eyes to roll back in there head. Her mouth open, filthy sounds falling from her lips as her fingers clutched at his forearms. "Look at me."

Her eyes flew open, bright but unfocused, and she held his gaze once again.

"Good girl," He let her see him smile this time, really smiled for the first time since he got home, and then he kissed her. Deep and sloppy and he hoped it showed her he was okay. Her legs tightened around his hips and her hands began to scramble over his arms, shoulders, his back. Still with that same smile he fucked her harder, dropped one hand down to the small of her back to hold her tight. "Go ahead, go ahead baby. I'm right here, I'm right here." The position pressed her against him just right and the sensation of her clit rubbing against him and the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot deep in side her made her gasp.

"Oh shi…God, Jack, shit!" and then every muscle in her long, lean little body seized tight and her nails dug into the back of his neck. The little bit of pain and the sensation of her falling apart around him dragged him over the edge. That falling sensation he had craved with every bone in his body finally coming to a realization. Except at the bottom of this fall, the cold hard ground was replaced by the feel of his wife's lips against his neck, her fingers twisting and toying with his curls still damp from the shower, and her happy little moan as her body relaxed against him.

He couldn't look at her just yet, so he pressed his face to the crown of her head and breathed her in as he wrapped her up tight. He couldn't pull away from her, not yet, and he hummed appreciatively as he felt her arms and legs wrap tighter around him. Jack didn't really think about how long they had stayed there, his dick going soft inside her, the mess they made. Eventually he sniffed and breathed in deep and whispered, "I love you."

Samantha, the love of his life, smiled against his neck and pressed a kiss against his slowing pulse, "Love you too."

The ding of the oven timer startled them both and after a second they broke into soft chuckles. Jack stood up straight and dropped his head back between his shoulder blades, the darkness gone, grumbling as Sam's teeth nipped over his corotid. "Biscuits are gonna burn if you don't let me go."

He grumbled again, face back in it's normal scowl, "Only 'cause I'm starving." He bent down to kiss her a final time before he finally, slowly, stepped away from her. One hand still on her thigh as he reached for a paper towel to clean up the mess they'd made so they could eat breakfast and go to bed.

5:43pm

When he woke up later that afternoon Samantha was still sound asleep beside him, her back to him, bare because they'd gone to bed after breakfast and made love, softer a slower than in the kitchen that morning. He turned onto his back to look at the alarm clock. He could go ahead and get up.

"Go back to sleep." Her voice was soft and raspy, barely awake, like she was trying to fight it.

Jack smirked to himself as he twisted back to kiss the back of her head before he slipped out of bed for the bathroom. He'd never slept well, even before the Army, before Afghanistan and Iraq, even before med school or the switch to nightshifts. On his way back from taking a leak he stopped by the dresser and flipped the switch on the scanner. He'd go back to bed, because she was there, but he doubted he'd sleep. He would have to get up soon anyway. At first there was silence, then the radio chatter picked up.

Back in bed his wife grumbled and pulled the blanket up tighter as she turned towards him. "Sleep okay?"

Jack stretched, arms over his head, and grimaced as his bad shoulder popped, "Slept fine." He laid one arm out and she immediately moved to his side and tucked herself in, twisting her head so she could press a kiss to the scar under his clavicle. "Close your eyes," He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Go back to sleep." She didn't have to work tonight and he didn't want to ruin her night off. His own eyes slipped closed as he stroked his fingers up and down her arm. He focused on each of her breaths as they ghosted over his chest while he listened to the static and clicks as mics were keyed on and off, officers called in traffic stops, dispatch relayed reports from callers.

When he'd come back from his last deployment and they were finally able to live together longer than a few months at a time, Jack had been shocked how quiet everything was. Even in base housing, there was silence. Sam told him him he'd acclimate, he'd get used to it. She said she listened to podcasts, audiobooks, something to drown out the silence. No jets or C130s screaming ovehead and howling on the tarmac, no chop from blackhawks or chinooks at all hours of the night, no yelling, fighting or roughhousing on the other side of plywood walls.

He hadn't acclimated.

Audiobooks didn't help, he'd lay awake all night because he needed to know how it ended. Podcasts just annoyed him, even the true crime ones she seemed to favor and somehow was able to fall asleep to within the first ten minutes. It wasn't until they'd moved off base that she'd thought of it while they unpacked the den. Sam had pulled out the radio and charging dock, the one they had 'just in case', turning the knob to see if it still worked and it had. So, they'd listened as they unpacked. "Maybe this would help you sleep." She'd been right.

For a moment, with the radio chatter, the blackout curtains and her pressed close against him he thought he might fall back asleep.

A series of chirps followed by long, highpitched tone sounded through the room followed by, "Shots fired, shots fired! All units…" the unmistakable sounds of rifle rounds popped and crackled over the speaker, "Shots fired!" Screaming, distant and garbled. Louder pops, closer, the officers handgun as it rang out. He or a partner maybe as they returned fire. Bang, bang, pause, bang,bang, "We need units now, we have an active shooter at Pitt…" The thirty second emergency call cut short and then the radio chatter exploded with answering officers and dispatchers.

Jack had sat up straight, Sam did the same beside him. Together they listened. Sam combed one hand through her hair as they waited.

Pittfest.

"Jesus," Sam looked at her husband, "That'll go to you guys."

Jack was already out of bed and pulling on underwear, before Sam could finish her sentence.

Less than 10 minutes later Sam met him at the garage door wearing just a hoodie and holding a shaker bottle. "Take this." She shoved it at him as he grabbed his truck keys. "And call me. Anything, just call me."

Jack ignored the protein shake for the moment instead sinking his free hand into her mess of dirty blonde hair and pulling her into him for a kiss. When they finally pulled apart he looked her dead in the eyes. "I love you."

She didn't blink, didn't breath as she pressed a hand over the center of his chest, over his steady beating heart. "I love you."

Then he grabbed the protein shake, gave her one last kiss and climbed into his truck.

6:11pm

Jack wouldn't ever say it out loud, except maybe to Sam, but he lived for this. This, the blood, the gore, the fear and the chaos, the critical thinking all of it, this is what he'd been put to do. This was easy, this was routine. He felt alive.

"Where's Collins?"

"I need a chest tube!"

"How the hell are we out of chest tubes!"

"O pos! I need a bag of O pos over here!

"I need help with an airway!"

"Someone get me more O Neg!"

Robby appeared at his side as they worked together the slow the blood pouring out of an adomen. "Depot is running low."

Jack spared a quick glance around him, "Where are we on resupply?"

"Gloria says she's working on it."

"How long?"

Robby laughed in that self-deprecating way ER doctors specialize in, "Your guess is as good as mine. She says she's working on it."

"Fuck that." Jack mumbled as he stood up straight, "Bag him." He ripped his gloves off and dug his phone out of his pocket. God bless FirstNet, he had signal and when he hit send the call went through. "Yeah, I'm fine. Need a favor."

6:32pm

The Ambulance bay doors hissed open. Robby looked up, "Ohhh, you are the prettiest thing i've seen all day!"

Jack glanced to the side, "Back off Robinavitch, I saw her first."

Sam dodged gurneys as she approached. A duffle bag in each hand and a backpack. "I come bearing gifts!" She made a beeline for the nurses station and Dana.

"Sweetie, please tell me you didn't just pick the worst possible time for a visit?" Dana met her arms wide open.

The duffle bags dropped on the counter with a thud and Sam shrugged out of her backpack so she could return Dana's hug. "Courtesy of Pittsburg VA Medical Center." Sam unzipped one bag and then the other, "I've got chest tubes, I've got cath tubes, some of this tubing I'm not even sure what the fuck it's for, and as many bags and adapters as I could take. i've got CAT tourniquets, SOF turniquests, some surgical turniquets, hemostatic dressings, suture kits, a shit ton of gauze and tape. There's chest seals in that one and abdominal trauma kits if shit gets real western," She turned to Dana as she whipped her long ponytail up into a quick and well practiced bun, "and this," she dug in the pocket of her scrub pants and handed over a piece of paper, "Is a list of people ready and waiting to come if you need them."

For a second it looked like Dana might cry as she glanced down at the list of names and phone numbers written in all different handwriting, mismatched inks, marker, pencil. It looked like they'd all used whatever they had handy at the time. She looked up at Sam and smiled, "You're an angel. Have I told you lately that I love you?" She wrapped her up in another hug.

"Yes, but it never gets old." Sam squeezed her back. "Now, I slammed a Monster on the way here so put me to work."

Dana smiled, "Put those in behavioral, that's supply, then gown up and pick a body." she paused, "i'm glad you're here."

On her way by her husband he called out to Dana, "Tap her, she's O-Neg!"

Sam gave him a look, "What, am I just a blood bank to you?" She gave Robby a wink as she passed him.

Jack called after her, "Love you."

"You better!"

Jack and Robby exchanged a look over a patient, "She's still pissed about this morning. Thanks for that by the way."

"What are best friends for?"

With a scoff Jack stood up, "This one can go up. Bring me another red!" then turned back to Robby, "I don't have a best friend."

Robby laughed and got back to work.

Jack took a deep breath, stole a glance at his wife already helping Samira place an airway on a gunshot victim, and nodded to himself. He remembered why now. He remembered why he kept coming back. For the time being anyway.

3:58 am

The only reason Jack didn't jump, flinch or even move when he felt a hand rest on the back of his head was because he'd recognize that touch anywhere. He groaned, but did not look up from where he sat with his elbows braced on his knees and his head hanging low. Her fingers carded through his curls and she scratched her nails over his scalp in the way that he loved so fucking much. Blindly, with one hand, he grabbed the back of her knee and tugged her closer so he could rest his forehead against her stomach.

Long minutes passed while she played with his hair and he didn't realize the death grip he still had on the back of her leg until his fingers began to cramp. Jack relaxed his hold on her, but didn't let her go. DIdn't want to risk her stopping or stepping away.

"You want some of my coffee?" Her voice was so gentle, but loud in the darkness.

His gaze fell on her shoes, smeared with blood. He sat up straighter, tipped his head back to look at her. "Sure."

She handed him the cup of shitty, hospital coffee and he sipped it. Black. She must be exhausted.

"Hey," she moved her hand down to the back of his neck but continued to scratch her nails over his skin. When he met her gaze, she gave him a soft smile, "Think you should go check on Robby."

He took another sip of her coffee and rubbed his hand up and down the back ofher thigh, trying to ignore the feel of the dried, caked blood, "Where is he?"

Her pretty green eyes blinked and she nodded, fighting back tears. "GIve you one guess."

~The End ~

Hope y'all enjoyed. I love these two and have some back story that might see daylight soon so keep an eye out for that.

Also, if you saw the poll I posted yesterday you'll know that I have a second story idea that I'm working on that more focused on Jack and Robby and their not friends friendship, Sam Abbot features heavily in that one and spoiler, she has a cute nurse friend (reader) that she wants to set Robby up with!

please don’t spend your life convincing yourself that love or joy is reserved for the idealized version of you that only exists in the future

No Man's Land

Jack Abbot x f!Reader

5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.

Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.

“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana. 

She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we’re talking about Jack Abbot.”

“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible. 

“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him. 

Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”

Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore. 

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”

You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”

Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.” 

“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you. 

“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways. 

“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Saturday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.

“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.

“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.

“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”

Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”

“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?” 

It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Saturday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”

“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”

Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.

“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”

“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”

“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him. 

Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.” 

You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest. 

“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.” 

“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple. 

“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much. 

“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp. 

“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond. 

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion. 

He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you. 

“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.” 

Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”

“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”

“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.” 

Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you. 

“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away. 

“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”

It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening to him again. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack. 

“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.” 

“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm. 

“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him. 

 “I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder. 

He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”

You bite your lip and smile at him. 

“What?” He eyes you with suspicion. 

You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”

“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack spins around.

“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack. 

“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler. 

He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.

“Jack-”

“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED. 

Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby. 

Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him. 

She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse. 

“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim. 

Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”

Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you. 

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do. 

He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole. 

Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye? 

“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”

He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?  

“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby. 

There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby. 

“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”

“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled. 

“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street. 

He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.

“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”

He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.

The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening. 

It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.  

He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.

“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”

He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary. 

The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel. 

“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object. 

You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”

“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling,  but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious. 

You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee. 

“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way. 

“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says. 

‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page. 

You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”

He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”

You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him. 

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily. 

“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”

You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”

It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own. 

“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in. 

“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”

“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.  

Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.

“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable. 

“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself. 

“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands. 

It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you. 

You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once. 

Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you. 

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be. 

He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”

You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”

You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.

It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did. 

On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.

You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.

You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise. 

You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood. 

It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.

Time. You were supposed to have more time together.

“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.

Call Back Pt. 2 - Chibs Telford x Reader

It took me forever to write this shit cause my new job has me in a thousand different directions. But here she is. Part two!

“Hey baby.” Gemma says as you walk through the door. You smell the hints of bacon, French toast and of course cigarettes through out the house. “You hungry?” She asks, you kick off your shoes and plop down into the chair at the dining room table.

“I would offer help but looks like you’re done. Smells great.” You say, Gemma smiles and sits down the plate of eggs. You grab your cup, filling it with orange juice. Trying to make yourself comfortable in the chair, your legs still aching from last night.

“Don’t worry, you can help when I clean this shit up.” You both chuckle, before long Jax makes his way to the table. He sits down only for a moment to grab some French toast and devours it. He pours himself some milk and drinks it in one setting.

“Someone’s in a rush.” Gemma says, putting eggs onto her plate. Jax looks up, shaking his head. Something has happened with the club, you can tell. You can always tell.

“Fuckin’ short on guys again today. First it’s Bobby saying he’s got shit with the baby mom, then Chibs saying he can’t be there today for the gun meet. Something about he has to stay close incase the wife calls.” You drop your fork, picking it up quickly in an attempt to make the shock your feel less noticeable.

“Fiona?! What is that bitch coming back here for? Hasn’t she fucked his life up enough? Bitch should have decided on that when he was in the hospital.” Gemma asks. Hospital? How did you miss it? You question yourself. You visited him frequently after that bomb went off and you didn’t see his wife? You feel froze in place. How stupid? How stupid could you have been to believe anything that bastard said to you?

“Yep. Apparently it’s about their kid, or working out things. I don’t know I got mixed up on what he told me. I’m just pissed cause we’re two guys short now. Even Tig is more reliable right now and that’s saying a lot.” Jax gives Gemma a kiss on the head and gives you a hug before he heads to the door. Clay had already headed out early in the morning to finish up some things at the club house. You feel your hand around the knife that laid on the table, tapping it up and down. Gemma notices and decides it’s her business too of what’s going on.

“What’s with the knife?” She asks. You pause for a moment, thinking of how to get the frustration out without telling her too much.

“Well, just a hypothetical question, if you’d been seeing a man and found out he was playing you like a fucking fiddle the whole time you’d been fucking him, what would you do?” You ask, holding the knife in place now but not letting up on your grip. She lowers your hand down.

“Well baby, I’d be holding a knife just like that. What’s going on?” You sigh, tossing the knife down. Instantly you know, Gemma knows too.

“It’s nothing, just a th-“ Before you can finish your sentence she blurts out.

“Fuck me! This is about Chibs!” She blurts out. “What the hell, how long has it been going on?” You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Look, that’s not important. I’m just pissed, he told me he was done with his wife and now this?” You put your hands into your head, forcing back tears. “How could I be so fucking dumb?” You mutter out, Gemma runs her hand up and down your back.

“Listen, look at me.” She says, you look up to make eye contact with her. “Fuck him. I love Chibs. I do, but that’s a sleaze move and he knows it. The best thing I can tell you, act like you’re unbothered. You go to the club house tonight when everyone’s there, you ignore him.” You sigh, throwing your head back.

“Gem. I don’t even wan-“ She cuts you off before you can finish.

“I don’t give a damn, you’re not gonna lay at your house and sulk over this. You’re gonna get your shit together, put on a good outfit and show his ass you’re not bothered.” You look at her and know she means business. “And I won’t tell Clay if you’re worried about it. I’d like to kick Chibs ass myself right now but I still don’t want the bastard to get killed.” You nod in agreement.

“Now, eat, get your ass home and get the crying out of your system and then get ready. Make sure you wear something that shows the girls too.”

________

As horrible as you felt, you managed to drag yourself to the mirror and look at yourself. Not bad for someone who’d been sobbing for a large part of the day. Once you got to the club house, you saw Jax. He looked much more relaxed than this morning. You turn your head and meet eyes with Chibs, he doesn’t even look upset. You feel the anger flowing through your body. Feeling your fist clinch. You remember what Gemma said - unbothered. You look away and keep heading to the bar. Chibs eyes still watching you as you go. A moment passes as you decide on what to drink. Water is probably the best choice, but the booze would surely help how you feel.

“You look sad.” The young familiar face says as he sits next to you. You turn to him, examining him closer up than you had before. Juice was his name.

“I won’t lie, I am.” He smiles softly, pushing a beer toward you. “But this alcohol is gonna help me not remember that. I hope.” You say, taking a drink of the beer.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, you smile at him shaking your head.

“It’s better I don’t. What’s up with you? Most of you stay 100 feet away from me at all times.” Juice smiles, looking over to see Clay with Gemma. Since Clay had made the comment a few weeks ago to Juice about how the two of you should ‘get to know each other better’ he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Clay admired Juice, he’d always wanted a son. Jax was close enough to it, but he also knew Jax would never feel that way about him.

“Look, I think you’re a pretty girl. I don’t like seeing pretty girls sad.” You hadn’t interacted with Juice much, most time when you were at the club house he wasn’t or he was passed out inside a crow eater.

“Thanks Juice. You’re sweet. I should have known, you’re the least scary looking one here.” He giggles and rolls his eyes.

“What? The tattoos on the side of my head & the mohawk doesn’t scare you?”

You let out a chuckle, it felt good to laugh and enjoy yourself. You run your hand over the side of his head where his tattoos lay.

“No way. They’re real? I always thought it had to be temporaries you kept putting on.” You joke, he laughs softly. Before you can say anything else, you see Chibs standing behind Juice.

“Juicy boy, can I have a minute?” He asks motioning to you. Juice nods his head, silently upset that Chibs interfered with the interaction.

“I’ll see you later?” He asks, you smile and nod your head. Even blowing him a kiss as he walks away. Chibs motions for you to follow him outside. Once the two of you are outside, he’s pacing back and forth.

“What? I don’t give you attention for five minutes and you’re out with the young Buck aye? Makes a lot of sense. You just want a man to keep you occupied.” You laugh, shaking your head. You should walk away, but you don’t.

“You know what? Fuck you! Fuck. You. You’re the one who lied about your wife, you lied about what you wanted with me and your wife. You don’t get the right to drag me out of a party and try to make me feel bad.” You blurt out, surprising yourself that there aren’t tears running down your face. “Maybe next time you’re trying to play both sides with women, you shouldn’t tell the fucking girls step brother about your issues.” Your back is against the wall as he stands over top of you. His hands against the concrete wall.

“It’s complicated-“ He begins to speak, at this point you didn’t need to hear it, you didn’t even want to hear it. He instantly regrets the comments he made, but it was too late to take it back.

“No. No, Chibs it isn’t. You lied. If you wanted your wife back, all you had to do was tell me that. I’m a big girl and can handle the hurt.” You gently shove him away as he tried to get closer to you. “I’ll make it less complicated for you. I’m done with you, I’m done with this. Enjoy getting your family back. You deserve it. I hope your sorry ass goes back to Ireland and you live happily ever after.” You brush past him and head to your car. Despite the pain that ached in your chest you were proud of yourself. Realizing it was time to stop beating a dead horse. Chibs sighs deeply, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Before he lights it, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Something you need to tell me Chibby?” He feels his body go cold, turning around to meet the face of both Clay & Jax.

“Aye. Fuck me.” He says, throwing his hands up in the air.

Something Else (Perfumer Part 2)

Jack Abbot x Bratty f!Reader

6.8k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: NSFW, MDNI 18+, established relationship, dom!jack vibes, oral f receiving, mention of alcohol, biting, hickeys, manhandling, edging, stubble burn reference, spanking, unprotected PIV sex (birth control not discussed, but implied with the established relationship), age gap (reader 30ish, Jack mid/late 40s) but not mentioned, teasing, reader is a brat, like a really really big brat, no use of y/n or related, zero proofreading of any kind.

Summary: Continuation of Perfumer. Jack finally gets off shift and home to you. Bratty reader gets tamed.

AN: This feels like such an abrupt change of pace from No Man's Land which is where I have been living. It was just in my head and I needed to get it out. It's pretty much straight PWP which has historically been rare for me. I am quite nervous about posting this one because my smut writing feels so so so rusty and potentially not very great. So, I hope it's okay!

This is the look I picture him giving reader at the beginning!

Jack hears the quiet and slightly shuddery breath you take in at his words and can’t help but smirk. 

He likes this little game you guys play, likes when you’re a brat and he has to tame you and earn your submission. Likes when you start it subtly out in public.

Collins walks up to the opposite side of the desk around the same time you and Jack arrive. You share a brief moment of eye contact and then you scratch at your ear. You stop with Jack at the desk and stand close to him, close enough for your sides to touch. 

“Hey,” Collins calls your name to get your attention. You’ve become very close friends very fast. “I’m working with your man tonight, but I’m off tomorrow with some of the other girls and we were thinking of trying that new brunch place two blocks up once I’m off.” Jack’s head pops up and looks between you and Collins before settling back on you. “We figure somewhere between nine and eleven a.m. But McKay said she was happy to provide pregame mimosas at her place while you wait for me. She said she was fine with seven, good to stay on schedule.” 

 “That sounds so fun!” You nod at her, start walking over towards her, acutely aware of the way Jack tracks you as you do. “I’ve really been wanting to try that place! Probably makes the most sense for me to go over to McKay’s at seven if she’s going to be awake, just in case you actually get off on time for once.” 

Collins goes to speak again but Jack speaks first. “Don’t you already have plans?” 

You look back over at him confused. “No? Not unless I’m forgetting something.”

Subconsciously Jack moves his head towards you. “I think you are,” he nods. “Remember, we made plans.”

“Did we? When?” You go to say more but you’re interrupted by Collins laughter. “Heather!”

“I’m so sorry, the look on his face, I couldn’t help it!” She keeps laughing and it makes you laugh. 

“What?” Jack asks, clearly unamused. 

“We’re just screwing with you Jackie!” You giggle as you walk over to him. “We had a prearranged plan and signal to do this when I finally felt the time was right.” 

Jack blinks at you. “Did you now?” 

“Don’t pout.” You stick your lip out dramatically. “I have not forgotten our plans,” you assure him. You drop your voice for only the two of you to hear and run your hands over his chest, smoothing out his scrub top. “And I can assure you that I would never forget the kind of plans we have, nor would I ever take a rain check on them for some other offer.” 

“You’re a brat,” he replies lowly, an edge to his voice that makes another chill run up your spine. 

“You like it,” you whisper back to him before leaning up on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you, Heather!” You call out to her as she walks away and she just waves, still laughing to herself. “Have a great shift Dr. Abbot. Try not to have too much fun without me. Love you.” 

“Yeah, I love you too.” His eyes still track you as you walk backwards a little and wave at him before turning to walk out. “Hey,” he calls to you. You look back with your eyebrows raised in expectation. “Promises.”

You bite your lip and nod before turning again to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let yourself get some sleep while Jack works but make sure to set an alarm for 6:45 a.m. so that you can be up when he’s off. Or at least when he’s supposed to be off. Unsurprisingly, there’s no text from him at 7:00, but at 7:05 you get one. 

J – Probably going to be a few hours late.

You – No worries, me and my ankles will be here waiting patiently for your arrival home.

The next text comes at 10:07 a.m.

J – You up?

You – Of course. Just freshened up the ankles for you, loverboy.

You can practically see his eyes rolling from here, but you know he likes it. 

J – You will not like what will happen if you are not on the bed naked and waiting when I get home. 

You – That another promise, Jackie?

At that one you can just picture the way he clenched his jaw as he got in his car. You’re not surprised when you don’t get an answer. 

You do as he asks though. Kind of. 

You shut the bedroom door and strip, and then you put on what you think are one of the sexiest pairs of panties you own. 

You walk over to your shared bed and lay down, propping yourself up with a pillow just enough that you can make eye contact with anyone who walks through the door. 

You let your hand drift lower and lower until your fingers brush over your clit on top of the fabric. He hadn’t given you permission, hadn’t told you to even start getting yourself ready for him. You keep touching yourself, let your fingers rub circles over your clit, use the fabric rubbing against you as a new sensation, all the while thinking of what he’s going to do to you when he gets home. 

Your panties are noticeably wet by the time you hear the front door open, fingers sticky with your arousal despite having stayed on top of the fabric the whole time. 

Jack can feel himself starting to fill out again as he reads how you freshened up your ankles for him. You’ve pushed him today. But he needs it. He thrives on it, almost always, on taming you. On pushing you to the edge of your limits. On earning your submission.  

The drive is mercifully traffic free. He steps into your place, locks the door behind him and just drops his backpack on the floor. Doesn’t put it aside in its usual spot. Doesn’t hang his coat up on one of the hooks. Doesn’t call out for you. 

His coat lands wherever it finally falls off him as he stalks through the house towards your room. His shirt meets the same fate, landing not far from the bedroom door. He’s already fully hard by the time his hand hits the doorknob and pushes open your bedroom door. 

In retrospect he’s not sure why it wasn’t, but the sight of you on the bed, looking right at him, almost totally naked and rubbing your clit over your panties was not what he expected to see when he opened the door. He didn’t expect to hear your soft panting and the softest and most breathy moan of his name. Jack. He tries not to let you see how it gets to him, how you get to him but he knows you’ll see the clench of his jaw and flare of his nostrils. You’re a sight. The most beautiful and erotic one he’s ever seen. 

You bite your lip at him, fight to keep the smirk off your face, but don’t stop. After locking eyes with him for a moment you let your eyes move from his and trail all over his chest and abdomen and arms. And the now very prominent bulge in his scrub pants. He’s too handsome. He burns you sometimes you swear, just by standing there shirtless and silent with that stoic face of his and that jaw and those eyes that ever so slightly tell you just how affected he is. 

Wordlessly Jack steps further into the room and shuts the door before looking back at you. Silence like this always means something with him. Means he’s sexually frustrated and annoyed with you. Means he’s ready to tame. The way he cocks his head just slightly, though, is a silent challenge.  

“It’s funny, sweetheart. I don’t remember my text saying anything about you being allowed to touch yourself and distinctly remember it telling you to be naked on the bed.” His voice is too calm, too composed. He has too much control over himself, it drives you insane sometimes.

“Well,” you sigh softly, roll your hips a bit as you keep circling your clit, “the text didn’t say not to touch myself.” You take a second to let out a few more moans, another of his name, lick your lips. “And technically I’m not really touching myself. The fabric is touching me, there’s been no skin on skin, Jackie,” you smirk at him. 

Jack clenches his jaw and lets out a short hummed laugh. He doesn’t say anything though. He just takes his scrub pants off, tosses them in the corner and looks back at you in just his boxer briefs.  

He stalks closer to the bed, closer to you. “You think you’re real fuckin’ cute, don’t you?”

“Are you saying I’m not?” You pout just a little too cloyingly and he knows you’re still trying to fuck with him. 

“That’s not an answer.” A little jaw clench there. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, finally take your fingers away from yourself and up to your mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them. “Well it’s the only one you’re going to get.” 

“That so?” 

He can be so quick when he wants to be and before his question has fully hit you and you can start thinking of some bratty reply he’s leant over the center of the foot of the bed enough to grab your ankles and pull you down the bed. It’s so unexpected you yelp, but not in pain. He’s a doctor, he knows just where to grab to not pull too much on your hip or ankle. “Well that wasn’t a very bratty noise now, was it sweetheart?”

He pulls you by the hips now so that your ass is at the edge of the bed, rips your panties down and off you. Before you can wrap your legs around his waist he catches them, holds them up parallel to his body in front of him, but spread just enough for him to stand in between them. It gives him the perfect view of your pussy, glistening and on display for him. You see his eyes slip down to take you in before he drags them back to yours. He holds your eye contact as he moves his face towards one of your ankles and breaks your gaze just as the side of his face starts to brush your inner calf. 

Jack turns his face completely and you can see him hold his breath while he gives you just a little check in, a quick kiss to the inside of your ankle. And then he takes a deep breath through his nose. 

His head snaps back to look at you, pupils blown as wide as they can be, jaw clenched and rolling with the subtlest twitch under his eye for a second that only you would notice. His hands grip your legs tighter, tight enough to hurt just a little. Anyone else might think he was looking at you with controlled but raging anger. 

But you know that it’s a look of primal, possessive need, that Jack’s on fire for you, all searing skin and simmering blood and deep panting breaths. You know that his cock hurts as it strains against the fabric of his boxer briefs because he needs you so viscerally.

There’s another glance down at your pussy again as you hum saccharinely. His eyes snap back to yours. The slowest smirk pulls across your face as you hold his gaze, your eyes smoldering at him. For him. 

“Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s yours, that’s all.”

Jack’s chest heaves just a little harder at your words and his eyes narrow slightly before pulling from yours and traveling down your body to take in you, all on display for him as he decides just what it is he wants to do with you.  

His cologne. 

His cologne is what you sprayed on your ankles. His cologne with just enough of a hint of your perfume coming through behind it so that it smells like you do after sex when he’s owned you, touched you so much and held you so close and fucked you so hard and so deep that the dewy sweat of your skin has evaporated much but not quite all of your perfume away and his cologne has stuck to you, marking you as his.

He’s still silent. Not brooding like he does sometimes. He’s just thinking. Just using the silence to toy with you and make you wait. Something about that makes you shiver. 

And Jack thinks he has you at that shiver. Keeps silent. Keeps looking at your body, especially your cunt. Keeps waiting for you to be the one to break and speak first. And you will be. 

But Jack thinks he has you and you saw it in a quick sweep of his eyes over your face at your shiver and you simply can’t have that. Not yet. 

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” You break the silence and give the smallest pout before your smirk comes back. “Pussy got your tongue?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, a slow smirk matching your own pulling up. He laughs a little. It’s a little more dangerous than if he hadn’t reacted because of how controlled it is, how it shows how much control he still has left. “Cute,” he nods at you as he caresses your ankles, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’re cute when you’re a brat.” 

“I try-” You’re cut off by him suddenly bending your legs at the knee and pushing them towards you as he moves closer to the bed, drops to his knees on the carpet. He rests your feet on his shoulder, leaving your ankles right there for the fragrance to perfume the air. 

He takes in another long breath through his nose and you swear you can hear him growl before soft kisses are being placed up your inner thigh. Instead of moving inward though Jack kisses outward, along the inner line where your hip and thigh meet. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t spray anything here for me to find,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses back towards where you’re desperate for him. 

“I considered it.” The words come out a little breathless as he gets closer and closer to your center. “But decided against it because then I would’ve had to listen to you bitch about not being able to smell me.”

Jack bites your inner thigh only a few inches away from your cunt and sucks, hard. Hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth, to suck a developing bruise into your skin. As he does so his stubble rubs lightly across your lips, breath hitching and hips twitching as you fight yourself to keep them down and not give him the satisfaction. 

He releases your thigh. “I don’t bitch,” he says nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. As though he hasn’t noticed his face is an inch and a half away from your pussy. 

“Yes you-” You’re cut off with a gasp as Jack’s tongue licks up you cunt to clit. Your head falls back onto the pillow without a thought as the sensation of his tongue overwhelms you. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pulls away from you for just a second, “were you saying something?”

He renders you unable to answer by giving you another lick before using the tip of his tongue to trace lazy figure-eights around your clit. His tongue drops down again and he leans into you, sucks at as much of you as he can before going up to focus on your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking, but leaving just enough space to not get a complete seal so it doesn’t feel quite as good as it could. 

You whine softly about it because Jack’s eaten you out and sucked at your clit enough times for you to know how it normally feels, that he’s fucking insanely talented at it and that he never slips like this. So you know he’s doing it deliberately. 

He gives a little grunt against you to say fine, if you’re so unhappy with it he’ll go elsewhere, and the vibrations of it as he sucks and pulls away from your clit make your hips jolt. Jack’s hands immediately come up and hold your hips down, hands strong and warm and so big as he presses his fingertips down into your skin. 

Jack trails his tongue down, teasingly traces circles around your entrance as he basks in the little mewls you make for him. His cock throbs hard against the fabric of his boxer briefs and he gives the slightest groan about it. 

As quickly as his tongue dropped down to tease you it pushes inside of you and you moan, louder than you want to for him right now. Jack’s stubble rubs against your inner thighs as he tongue fucks you a few times and then pulls out, fingers squeezing your hips harder when you whine about it. 

His lips move back up to your clit and suck again, but this time the seal of them is tight around you, his tongue flicking little circles against you in his mouth. It steals your breath for a second as your back arches while your hips remain pinned to the bed by his hands. “Oh, Jack!” The moan is quiet, clearly slipping out of your lips unconsciously. Your hands fist the sheets hard before unclenching and starting to move down to his salt and pepper curls.

Jack isn’t looking at you, he has his eyes closed as he focuses on you and the little noises you’re making for him but that you’re trying to hide and how you taste and how you smell and how hot your pussy is on his skin, chin coated in you. But he doesn’t need to be looking to know your next move. 

He suddenly pulls his face from you. “Don’t even fucking try it or we’ll end this right here, right now and I’ll go fuck my fist in the shower.”

You freeze for a second and then pull your hands back up and twist at the sheets again, give him a huff. 

Jack takes the few seconds he’s pulled away from you to move his hands from your hips and push his boxer briefs down, freeing himself. He gives a little groan of relief when his hand wraps around him and tugs a few times. You’re already a little too fucked out to really notice.

He lets his hand stay there as he brings his face back to your cunt, starts licking and sucking again. He fucks his fist as he devours you whole, needs the relief even as a piece of him mourns the fact that it’s his hand and not your hand or your mouth or your cunt. 

Jack builds a pattern with his tongue, repeats it over and over as you writhe for him against the sheets, as you give him sweet little moan after moan until you’re finally moaning his name loudly. Pleasure courses through you and heat roils in your lower belly as your muscles contract tighter and tighter and Jack works you closer and closer. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pant out “just like that Jack, just like that, fuck!”

And then he changes his pattern. You let out a vaguely frustrated sigh, but can’t stay true to it because the new pattern is just as good. You can feel him smirk against you at your sigh, move his face just a little so that his stubble scratches into you a little harder, starts to etch into your skin. 

Jack touches himself faster and faster as he licks and sucks at you, paying attention to how close he is and how close you are. The grunts and groans he pulls from himself send shivers through you and drive you that much closer to the edge. Your mind is so pleasure hazy you don’t even think to question why he’s making them. 

Once he gets himself right to the edge he slows down, is more absentminded with himself as he doubles down on you, pushes you right up to that same ledge with his tongue and mouth. He can feel your toes curl against him as you get a second away from the point of no return. 

You already know what’s going to happen but it doesn’t help, doesn’t make it easier to weather when he rips himself away from you. “No!” You cry it out for him despite yourself, despite wanting to appear unaffected. 

Jack laughs darkly. “You know only good girls get to cum, babygirl.”

You huff slightly, lay there panting with your eyes closed as you try and ride out your almost orgasm, hear Jack stand up. He lets one of your legs fall gently and holds the other up against his chest by your calf. So you wait for him. For whatever is next.  

You don’t expect the way he runs the palm of his hand through you though, the way he curls his fingers to drag up you in a way to collect as much of the arousal he’s pulled from you on his hand as possible. “Fuck, Jack!”

Your eyes fly open at you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. The sight of him wrapping his slicked up palm and fingers around himself and starting to fuck his fist is unexpected but anything but unwelcome. 

“This could be, you know.” His voice is low, followed by a few low pants as he touches himself. “This should be you.” He lets his hand that’s holding your calf adjust your leg so that he can turn his head and breathe in through his nose at your upper ankle, let the smell of him owning you course through him. His head turns back and his eyes find yours. He stares at you with that same intensity from earlier but this time it’s glazed with an even heavier lust. “I should be in your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt,” he growls at you. “But am I?”

Though an obvious answer, it’s not a rhetorical question. He expects an answer. Expects you to acknowledge and think about how he’s not in your hand or your mouth or your cunt. You stare at him, can hear your heart beating in your ears, pussy growing wetter and mouth salivating at the thought. You just can’t help yourself though. 

“Well if you have to ask Jackie…” You give him a little shrug. 

“God, fuck!” Jack groans, voice strained as he aims his cock at you and comes all over your pussy and lower abdomen. He works himself through it, chest heaving, glistening with sweat and flushed as he slows his hand and releases himself. “You’re fucking pushing it,” he almost laughs, but it’s more an observation he happens to find entertaining. 

He stares at his cum that sticks so prettily to your skin and pussy, claiming you just for him as he lets himself come down from his orgasm. “You look so beautiful like his,” he murmurs lowly, voice huskier than normal. “Covered in me.”

Before you can say anything he looks away from you and grabs the panties you were wearing, uses them to clean you off and sits you up. It surprises you a little, that he’s so eager to wipe it away. But then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. 

He shows you again just how quick he can be, and you’re yelping again at the suddenness of finding yourself bent over his knees with his palm caressing one of your ass cheeks. There’s no build up. There doesn’t need to be. You know why you’re in this position. 

“Count.” It’s an order.

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

He does, obviously. It’s a little harder than he had been planning the first one to be just because of the extra attitude, the smacking sound a little sharper. Another one to the other cheek follows swiftly. He can feel you squirm on him and hear the softest moan that just makes it through your lips into the air despite your otherwise lack of reaction. 

There’s a pause as he waits. Waits for you to say one. Two. 

“I distinctly remember telling you to count.” His voice is still so composed even with as low in pitch as it drops.

“I am!” You huff at him. He squeezes at one of your cheeks where his hand just came down. “I am!” You repeat, doing your best to sound indignant which is difficult given the position you find yourself in. “In my head.” You feel his entire body tense. “What? You just said count. Not count out loud.”

Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He’s quite certain he hears you giggle about it. There’s some part of him that’s a little proud of you for this little display. He shifts his legs a little, spreads them just a bit and runs his hand over your cheek and under you to pinch your clit. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make you jolt and let out another pretty little moan for him. You can feel him start to get hard again against your thigh. 

“Outloud.”

Another little giggle. 

“Sir, yes sir.” 

He’s good at spanking, you have to give him that. He gives you ten in total, five to each cheek. He doesn’t alternate every time, brings his hand down in quick succession sometimes and makes you wait torturously for it to come back down at others, varies the pressure and how hard he brings his hand down against you, where he brings it down. 

By the time he’s done tears sting at your eyes as your ass throbs, burning and sore and stinging in its own right. 

“Good girl.” It’s low, breathed out more than actually spoken as he leans you back up, but you’re still able to hear it. The part of your brain that wants to be a brat feels betrayed by the part that glows at his praise and approval and sends warm happiness flowing through you. 

“Center of the bed. On your stomach.” For once this morning you actually do as he asks, crawl your way to the center of the bed and lay on your stomach as he takes his prosthetic off and crawls up in between your legs. 

You rest your head on its side, look back at him as much as you can. His eyes run over your ass as his hands grab your hips and haul you up to your knees. You go to push yourself up on your hands or elbows but all too quickly his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pushes you back down wordlessly. 

With his other hand he gets himself lined up with you and pushes inside you slowly, cognizant that while he’s already edged you and gotten you nearly dripping for him, only his tongue has been inside you, no fingers to help prep you. You whimper but Jack knows you well enough to know that its not from physical pain but rather from how slowly he’s sliding into you. 

As he bottoms out Jack closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, a little shaky because fuck do you feel good and fuck has he been waiting to be buried inside you since you showed up at the Pitt. 

He pulls out of you slowly, lets you feel every ridge and vein of him before he snaps his hips hard to get himself back inside of you. 

“Ohh,” you moan out, “Jack, fuck.” He does it again, pulls out torturously slow and snaps back in. 

“You want more baby?” He says as saccharine and teasing as you’d spoken to him when he got home. He pulls out a little faster this time, moves his hand from your neck and uses both hands to help pull you back onto him so he can fuck you even harder. 

You immediately go to get up on your elbows again. “Stay down,” Jack warns, curling over you a little and using his hand to guide you back down. It changes the angle, makes him slide deeper inside of you which draws a moan from you and an erratic buck of his hips as he chases the feeling. 

“But I can’t see you like this,” you pout, breathing heavily. 

“Brats don’t get to see,” Jack grunts out, leans back up and returns both hands to your hips so that he can return to fucking you harder. 

You take in a couple of panted breaths, tilt your head at an awkward angle for a second to see a little more of him. You know he sees you do it. Somehow you manage to smile at him. 

“You’re cute when you’re all worked up.” You mirror his words from earlier back to him and manage the smallest smirk before turning your head back to a neutral position. 

Jack lets out a quick scoff. “You’re really fucking something else today.” Jack slides his hands up a little and pushes down, forcing your ass to come up higher for him, again letting him get deeper and hit harder with the added bonus of keeping your head on the mattress. He watches your hands curl in the sheets as he rails you.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. 

He snarks a laugh at how you don’t have to be given that instruction twice, hand sliding between your legs and rubbing erratically at your clit as your brain starts to get pleasure drunk off his cock.  

Neither of you speak for a bit, not real words. It’s just the sounds of your panting and the moans and groans you pull from each other and the slap of skin on skin. You’re the first to break.

“Oh god! Jack!” You mewl as the pleasure starts to overtake you. He can hear and feel how close you are.

“Stop touching yourself.” Another order. You falter on this one, like you knew he would. So he stops, removes your hand himself.

Another orgasm ebbs away from you. 

You whine but do your damndest to remain unaffected, to try not to show how desperate you’re getting. But your whine has just enough of a desperate edge to it to let Jack know he almost has you. 

“What was it you said again?” He starts rubbing your clit. “Oh yes, I remember. The anticipation and wait makes it better.” He gives another dark laugh as he starts fucking you again, just as hard and just as intense. 

“Oh fuck Jack!” You gasp out. He hadn’t given you much come down time and so you feel your orgasm cresting again quickly. 

“Close, baby?” He asks like he doesn’t already know by the feel of your cunt around him. 

You can only nod as the pleasure grows stronger and stronger, your breaths coming harder and harder as you moan nonsense to Jack. 

“Jack!” You draw his name out in a moaned whine. “Need to come. Need to.” Your speech is a little slurred now. 

“Brats don’t get to come.” It’s nearly mocking the way he says it. Cocky. Like he knows he has you now. Because he does. He knows how close you are. His pace doesn’t relent. He speaks through the panting breaths he takes. “And what are you sweetheart?” 

“A brat.” You look back up at him with watery eyes and a real pout this time, on the verge of tears of pleasure. “Please-

“You still think you’re real fuckin’ cute?” he pants, cutting you off. 

“No, I’m sorry, please Jack, Sir, I,” a few tears slide down your face. “I want to be good for you.” You’re so ready for it, so convinced he’s going to let you have it now. 

But Jack stops and pulls out of you and you let out a little sob as more tears fall.  

“Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you softly as he flips you over so you’re on your back. “I’ve got you.”

He pushes back inside you, grabs your calves and throws one over his shoulder, takes his time with the other as he lets himself take in a deep breath through his nose at your inner ankle and lets out what sounds like a growl from the deep within his chest before settling it on him like the other. His fingers on one hand toy with your clit as he leans over you and grinds himself into you. With how worked up and sensitive you are and the sound he just made for you it’s all you need and he finally lets you have it. 

Your orgasm shatters you. You swear you lose hearing for a minute, lose the ability to breathe and that your vision goes white 

“There she is,” Jack drawls, “there’s my good girl.” He moves his hand and stills his hips, let his hands grope at your breasts, fingers gently teasing at your nipples. 

You pant hard as you try to reorient yourself, finally get your eyes back open and look up at Jack. 

“Jack,” your breathing starts to return to normal. “Please,” you breathe. 

He moves your legs off his shoulders and helps you wrap them around his waist, lowers himself down so that your chests touch. “Please gets you what you want, doesn’t it sweetheart?” He leans his head into your neck and starts kissing you there, soft teasing things. 

“Yes.” It’s just as breathless as your please and something about it drives Jack wild. You let one arm slip under his shoulder and bend up to cling to his back as much as you can, the other staying above his shoulder so that your hand can find his hair, let your fingers run through it.

Jack starts fucking you again, hard. He puts his whole body into it, arching his back and using his knees for leverage to help his thighs and hips drive into you over and over. He keeps kissing your neck, sucks at it, nibbles at the spots he knows are most sensitive. 

“Oh Jack!” You arch up into him. “Jack, Jack, Jack.” He feels too good, fucks you too good. It’s unreal. 

You hear him grunt low from deep in his chest and it makes you shiver, let out a whine. “I love the way you say my name when you’re like this. Fucked out and cock drunk.” 

Jack’s voice reveals he’s just as drunk on your pussy as you are his cock.

It rips through you out of seemingly nowhere at his words, your second orgasm, just as good as your first but deeper, more intense in the way it feels like your muscles contract so hard all your bones will snap before they release with a rush of pleasure that makes you arch into Jack again. 

His name slips off your tongue in a moaned prayer again. “Jack, Jack, Jack.”

“You sound so pretty when you come for me.” He kisses at your jaw, down your neck, sucks at your collarbone while he fucks you through it.

Jack moves his hand, slows his hips to give you a little bit of time to recover. You whimper through your tears of pleasure. He’s not chasing his own release. 

Because he’s not done with you yet.

He picks the pace of his hips back up and you moan for him, claw at his back and scalp. He knows it’s not going to take much to get you there a third time with how sensitive you are, right on the border of pleasurable and painful overstimulation.

“You’ve got one more in you for me, sweetheart, I know you do.”

You shake your head at him. “I can’t.” You sniffle and he leans in to kiss away your tears. You say that you can’t but you trust Jack to know your body more in this moment than you do, trust that he won’t push you too far, only right to your limit before bringing you back. “It’s too much Jack!” You keen as his fingers return to rub tight circles over your clit again.

“No babygirl,” Jack finally kisses you, licks into your mouth possessively and moans just as loud for you as you do for him, breaks the kiss but hovers his lips over yours so they brush against each other when he speaks, “it’s just enough.” 

Your orgasm crashes over you just as he finishes his sentence, white hot and searing. Your hands tug hard at his salt and pepper curls as you go soundless from how hard your coming, almost holding your breath as the pleasure completely takes over. Your ability to speak suddenly comes back and you let out the most erotic moan of Jack’s name that he’s ever heard.

Your cunt clenching around him, the sharp burst of pleasured pain from how hard you tug on his hair and that moan of his name are all Jack needs. He follows you, coming with a groan of your name that’s so choked and even more gravelly than his usual voice that you think for a second it might make you come again. He keeps moving his hips somehow, fucking himself through it to try and keep the feeling from ending.

“Fucking christ,” Jack groans as his hips still, propping himself up on his elbows and panting as he looks down at you. “You okay?” You’re smiling at him, eyes completely glazed over, but you nod. He knows that right now you are. It makes him smile back at you. He takes another couple of seconds to even his breathing out before kissing your cheeks and nose and forehead and chin and then your lips to bring you back down. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Perfect.” He punctuates each word with a kiss.  

You blink at him, eyes a bit clearer. So he asks again. “Hi beautiful,” he smiles down at you amusedly, “you okay?”

You come back to yourself a little more and that’s when the trembling starts as you reconnect your mind and body enough for the dump of hormones and adrenaline to hit you, your body struggling to figure out what to do with all the pleasure. “Ohhh,” you sigh out, voice a a bit shaky, “I am so much more than okay, Jack. I’m trying to figure out what layer of the fucking stratosphere you just sent me to and how I get back down,” you laugh softly. 

Jack returns the soft laugh. “Good. Water now?” You shake your head, not ready for it yet. He gives you another kiss that you return and then lowers himself on top of you. He knows his body weight and the skin on skin helps with the trembling and reorientation. You wrap your arms around him, let one hand play in his curls while the other rubs up and down his back absentmindedly. Jack feels when you stop trembling and relax.

“You did amazing sweetheart, I’m proud of you. That was a lot.” He leans back up for another kiss and you beam at him, glowing in the warmth of his body and praise. 

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips. A beat passes. “I really got you twice there with the ankles, once at work and once with the cologne.” 

Jack snorts a laugh and buries his face in your chest. “You really are something else, you know that?” He peers up at you and the only thing you see is a man hopelessly in love with you and not afraid to show you. 

“I do.” You nod with a smirk, almost smug about it. “But I’m your something else.” You grin at him. 

Jack laughs. In a few moments he’ll ask you if you’re okay again, pull a pair of pajama pants on, put on his prosthetic and walk around shirtless to get you water without asking and probably a snack. He’ll ask if you want a bath or shower and when you say no this time he’ll rub some of the salve you have on your ass to help soothe where he spanked you. And then after his twelve plus a few hours shift followed by fucking you out of your mind he’ll ask if you’re okay if he grabs some sleep, as if you’d ever say no and won’t be half asleep yourself from the fucking he just gave you when he asks. But for now he just agrees with you. “You’re correct sweetheart,” he nods, “you’re my something else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hopefully it was okay?

Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know your thoughts, comments etc! Liking, replying and reblogging is so so appreciated! Requests are open and I love chatting!

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The beginning of the end.

Poly! Abbot x FormerBAU!F!Reader x Robby. <3

Sum: An average day at works takes a turn for the worst, as Pittfest comes to greet you with a gun. OneShot!

(This story is separate from my other BAU x Pitt works and features my attempt at my Asks for BadassBAU!Reader! I hope it was worth the wait and please read the warnings my duckies! <3)

CW: TGun violence against you and the pitt shooter, talks of killing and saving people by killing them. M/M/F, Pittfest, you're a second year resident so agegap relationships and power dynamics. A small bit of smut, daddy kink, and descriptions of body parts at the end. Very brief mentions of overdosing, a hand in a blender, Myrna. Implications of your tricking the unsub by agreeing to said crazy talk. F!Reader - mentions of you being smart, kid as a nickname by our two men. MDNI

As you're getting ready for your shift, you can't help but think about how different your life is now.

The Pitt, as Robby affectionately called it, was grueling. On your first day, you had seen two people overdosing, someone's hand stuck in a blender, and met Myrna, who decided you'd your pretty face was worth switching sides for a night or two.

Sighing, you couldn't help but laugh as you thought about how being a second-year resident was no different from being in the BAU.

Least I don't have to worry about serial killers with too much time on their hands planing their revenge on me, you think with a snort.

While you still kept in close touch with everyone back at Quantico, even offering advice and help when needed, you wouldn't go back unless you absolutely had to. Sides, what would your favorite grumpy attendings do with you? You giggle, thinking about Dr. Abbot and Dr. Robby.

You had grown close to them, finding comfort in his presence. They reminded you of the best parts of Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, and Derek. When your feelings had turned romantic for the both of them, you really didn't know what to do, confiding in Spencer and Penelope. They encouraged you to try, but fear stops you, not wanting to ruin what you had.

It was enough, knowing they shared little laughs with you in rare downtimes, how they took turns being your coffee or secretly walking you to and from work. If they asked for more, you'd give it to them immediately.

But nothing goes on the Pitt without Perlah and Princess knowing, so you can only imagine what the betting sheet looks like. Most of the day shift argued you'll end up with Robby, while the night shift was rooting for Abbot.

——

As you head in, you can already sense this was going to be a tough day shift. Sailing you up to the roof, spot your favorite old man duo.

"Room for one more?" You ask, joining them.

"For you, baby? Always," Abbot smirks out, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, the sadness in his eyes.

You quietly move in between them as Abbot grabs you firmly. Face buried into your hair, taking in your sweet scent, before passing you to Robby. Giggling lightly, you hang off Robby as he gives you a squeeze.

"Everything okay?" You ask, glancing at the two and noting the letter in Robby's hand.

"Just your usual existential crisis. Let's go, kid."

——

The three of you head down as you take note of the already drowning patient board, and group of new doctors in front of the nurses' station.

"We've got new students," Robby informs you as he leads you to them, leaving Abbot behind to chart. Your hand carefully brushes against his as you walk away, a silent goodbye.

"God help them," you snort out, making Robby huff.

"Alright, welcome to the Pitt. I'm your attending Dr. Robinavitch, but you can call me Dr. Robby. Over here, we have our charge nurse, Dana; she's the one really in charge and will be your best friend here if you want to make it. Your senior residents are Dr. Langdon and Dr. Collins. If you can't find me, you can go to them. If you can't find any of us, you go to Dr.L/N here, or honestly, just go to her anyways," he informs them, placing a large hand on your shoulder, giving it a playful squeeze.

You give a little wave and smile to the new team.

"Careful, Robby. Your favoritism is showing," Dana jokes, watching the two of you and shaking her head.

"Walking HR violations, those two." Collin joins her as they share a teasing look.

Sticking your tongue out, you sigh, glancing at the patient board. "Let's do this, yeah?"

--

Patient after patient, you barely had a second to breathe. You can tell the day's getting to Robby, as last night had to Abbot. You follow him to the bathroom, pushing him back in when he tries to come out.

"Jesus y/n. What the fuck.” he breaths out as you lock the door, blocking it with your body. "Talk to me, Robby."

He glares at you, unwilling to talk. "Move. Now. I don't have time for this."

"Hey. Please. Don't hide from me." You whisper as you move closer to him.

He drags his hands over his face. "Today, of all days, is fucking shit."

Closing the gap fully, you drag him into your arms. His body shakes as he burrows his head into your neck, arms wrapped around you. His scruff tickles you, just for a second, as his signature scent warms you.

Sighing, he unwillingly lets you go. "Walking HR violation, you know."

Smirking, you watch his brown eyes darken as he takes you in once more. The three of you have been playing this dance for a while, and you wondered once again when the dam will finally break.

——

"So, are they dating?" Santos asks Garcia, Perlah, and Langdon as they work on the same patient. She caught the two leaving the bathroom together, looking a little.. disgruntled to say the least.

"Honestly? That's the running bet. Either him or the night shift attending," Garcia answers, passing her a scalpel.

"Minimum bids $20," Perlah chimes in as Santos asks to be put down for Robby.

——

At some point, you help Whitaker get new scrubs, feeling bad for the kid.

"It's fucking shit day, kid, but you're showing up and trying. We can't ask for more." You say, giving him a clap on the shoulder before walking away.

"She's so cool," he whispers as he joins Mel, Mateo, and Javadi.

"Dr. L/n? She's the coolest and like hella smart. Used to be a therapist, I think, for Quantico or something before coming here." Mateo informs them, nodding your way.

"I feel like I know her from somewhere; I just don't know where," Javadi says as she watches you move with confidence.

"Dude has like five degrees. She's smart like you," Mateo adds, making Javadi blush and stutter.

"She really is cool," Mel adds. She likes you. You and Langdon have easily become her favorites here.

But of course, It was near the end of your shift when everything went wrong.

—-

"Where a MASH unite now. Old school. That means no fancy X-rays, electronic charting, EKGs, or anything," Abbot orders out, putting on his orange vest.

"How will we chart them then?" McKay asks, raising her hand. Abbot nods her way. "Great question. Everyone gets a patient chart attached to their wrist. Write as you go, and if you run out of room, write on their foreheads."

"Seriously?" Javadi says as Abbot smirks, "Seriously."

“Alright.” Robby claps his hands, getting everyone's attention. "You know your zones, and remember to listen to your zone leaders. Abbot, L/N with me for a second. Everyone else, go."

The group breaks up into their colored zones, tensions running high as they wait. It would be any second now.

Nodding, you join Abbot and Robby, giving the former a hug. "Thank god for you, your crazy scanner, and go bag of like everything."

"Even got your favorite protein bars, kid," making you smile. "Marry me?"

But before either can respond — The ambulance sirens ring loud and true. heart pounding and palms sweating. It was time.

——

It was a fucking mess.

So many victims as you look around. You feel pulled in twenty different directions, but it has to be done. Jake's girlfriend is dead, and Robby is missing. You don't get a second to breathe as you go to help Abbot.

"How do you know so much when you're only a second year?" Santos asks, helping with the red zone as the pink calms down.

"Kids a certified genius," Abbot answers for her, as he performs a tracheostomy. "Call Walsh. This one's ready for surgery."

"Seriously?" She asks. Langdon chimes in as he works next to you guys. "L/Ns got like 4 degrees"

You can't help but smirk "and a nice rack," getting a deep chuck from Abbot.

The two of you notice Robby's back, pulling Whittaker with him. You share a look with Abbot, knowing you'll all be talking soon.

"I've got the next one. Go help Mohan," you tell him as the next victim rolls in.

"Bullet wound in the arm," Shen tells you as you take over.

The guy's lanky with a large black sweater and jeans on. You can tell he's covered in blood despite it bleeding in with the fabric. The hair on the back of your neck stands. You note that the armed police are only outside.

"You with me sir?" you ask as you look his arm over, taking over the pressure.

"Yeah, the guy got me good," he says, avoiding eye contact with you.

"I got you." You carefully let go of the pressure, only to notice it's just a graze. A graze that's way too light to have been from whatever gun was used on everyone else here. You don't stop your movements, eyes traveling to his hands and waist.

"Did you see what happened?" You ask slowly, taking in his jittery frame. Fuck, you think. Your far from the police outside, and he's in perfect range to hurt the most amount of people possible.

"Yeah, I got to see it all." You still for just a second, and it happens.

He grabs you in a headlock, gun out, and presses it to the side of your head in a matter of seconds.

"Nobody move!"

Screams fill the air as you watch your team cover patients with their own bodies, Abbot and Robby rushing towards the center before stopping. Fear. That's the only thing they know now as they watch. Abbot's hands are clenched, knowing that trying anything would put you in a worse position.

The armed guards rush in from the ambulance entrance as the man holding you screams at them to stop.

He's frantic, head whipping from the crowd to the police. His grip on you firm, squeezing you tightly to the gun.

"Move, and I'll blow her fucking brains out," he orders, panting heavily. You can feel his body shake.

"Who the fucks in charge," the shooter continues. As Robby slowly raises his hand, Abbot beside him.

"Let's talk. It's alright, nobodys gonna move," holding eye contact with him.

"How many"

"How many what." Robby demands.

"How many did I fucking kill" the shooter spits out.

Robby swallows, not wanting to answer, so you answer for him.

"Six," you whisper as he looks down at you, moving the gun to your temple.

Whimpers fill the room as everyone watches in horror. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Abbot take a step closer before the shooter starts laughing hysterically.

"Six? All those fucking guns. All that time planning. Shooting myself in the arm to kill fucking six?? You were all supposed to die. I was supposed to save everyone, but you ruined it," he screams out at the end, and you can tell he's losing control rapidly.

You needed to act fast. You needed him to loosen his grip, just for a second.

"I know they did", you whisper calmly to him as he stares you down again. His eyes are wild, wide, and blown.

"You were going to save all of us? Weren't you?" You continue softly. He nods, looking unsure for the first time.

"You can still save us. I see you. You're who we needed, who I needed all along," you say, turning fully into his embrace. Your hand creeps slowly up his chest, trying not to spook him.

You hear terrified gasps in the background but ignore them, focusing solely on the unsub.

"That's right, that's right," he whispers. "You see me?"

You smile innocently at him, pushing your head further against the gun for just a second.

"I see you."

There.

His hold loosens as his mind wanders, but you got him.

Quickly, you move, stomping on his foot as your hands grand the gun and his wrist, twisting it harshly like Hotch taught you.

The shooter screams in pain as you rip the gun out and pistol whip him before dropping the gun and kicking it to Abbot -- Who quickly dismantles it.

"Unsub down!" You call out.

The police run in as you back away from the shooter arms up in the air.

——

You're silent. The police chief, someone you had worked with before, just finished interviewing you as you manage to avoid everyone. Up on the roof, you finally breathe. You feel the adrenaline leaving your body as you lean against the rail.

"Room for two more?"

Looking back, you see Abbot and Robby. Their eyes rimmed red, exhaustion deep in their bones. The three of you pause before Abbot breaks the spell, striding to you.

His hands grasp your heads, forcing you to make eye contact. "You ever try to do that again? I'll fucking hog tie you down. Fuck, I'm so mad and proud," your eyes teary as you stare into his.

"Can you hog tie me anyways?"

"This girl," you hear Robby laugh out as Abbot buries his head onto the top of your head. Robby moves to join you two as your squished between them. It feels like hours have passed.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Robby asks, after making sure you're actually okay.

"Remember I used to work for the FBI?"

They give you a blank stare.

"You were a therapist?"

Snorting, you shake your head. "You guys just assumed I was! I was with the BAU for a long time."

The blank stares continue.

Robby opens his mouth and then stops. "So… not a therapist."

"No!, you sexist old men!," laughing as Abbot pushes you.

"I'll show you old," he continues, grabbing you by the waist. He shares a look with Robby over your head, getting a nod back before leaning down to do something he's been waiting months for.

His kiss shocks you to the core. Lips warm, a little chapped but it's perfect, like him. Controlled and demanding obedience. You whimper into it as it feels, his fingers digging into your side and hardening cock against your tummy.

Letting go, you look at him and then Robby before he finally moves. He leans down, kissing you in a way that's fully Robby. Moments later, he lets you go.

The men stare at each other, you in between them again. You watch as their heads tilt towards each other, sharing their first passionate kiss. Another whimper escapes you as your core heats up. They're fucking perfect, you think.

Abbot clears his throat. "We should go home together." He stares you both down in a way that only Abbot does.

Giggling, you agree, as Robby's ears and neck turn red. "Let's close shop first? Then mine, Yeah?"

——

To your embarrassment, claps fill the air as you reenter the ED. Dana hugs you first. "Don't ever do that again."

Smiling, you feel relieved. "Don't really plan on it."

Your heart swells at how worried everyone was, a part of you was nervous they would have taken your crazy words to the shooter for real.

Javadi is the first to put it together.

"Holy fuck your y/n l/n!!! The Y/N L/N from the freaking BAU!! You work with David Rossi and the FBI!!!" She's in shock, having been a fan of the team, and couldn't believe she didn't put it together sooner. You looked different t in your cute scrubs, having usually seen you heels and power suits.

"I thought you were a therapist!!" Landon questions before you raise your hands in defense.

"You guys just assumed! I'm retired BAU!"

"You're too young to be retired from anything!!" He argues back, giving you a hug. "I will bite you!!!" You growl back as you both laugh. He hugs you firmly, thanking you quietly.

The two of you have always had a brother-sister relationship, and you're glad it's not going anywhere, even with his current problems.

“Alright, alright, let my girl breathe," Robby

"My girl," Princess whispers to Perla's in Tagalog excitedly! But Perlah shakes her head as she points out the way Abbot is looking at you.

"But we have questions!!,” someone calls out.

Laughing, you agree to answer a few.

"What's David Rossi like!" Victoria blushes out as you giggle.

"As charming as you think but way too old for you," you smirked at her.

"How did you stop him, the shooter?" Whittaker asks.

"It's something I'm trained for, so for the love of god, please never try that on anyone for any reason." You look at your coworkers firmly.

A sigh escapes you as you answer a few more questions about your time at the BAU. Yes, you know how to use a gun and caught some bad guys. Finally, Abbot called it quits for you and drags you back to the locker with Robby.

He grabs your bag for you, and you smile gratefully. As you leave the building, it's almost shocking how normal it is again. A room full of new patients waiting, with Myrna asking to see Abbot biblically later.

Giggling, you follow the two men home.

——

Robby's place is a quick walk. It's spacious, for just him. Neat, cozy, and almost exactly what you pictured. Photos of him, Jake, his family, and your nights out with the rest of the staff. You try not to analyze him, a part of you that's hard to stop.

You're unsure of what this means for the three of you, but you're willing to try.

"Shower?" Robby grunts out before he nods. He leads the three of you to a bathroom with a large walk-in shower.

Abbot swallows as he notices a shower bench and wall handles, his heart squeezing. "Those?…" he nods towards it.

"Yeah" Robby smiles gently, "Got crutches and Y/Ns favorite soaps too" and for once, Abbot is stunned silent. He places a soft kiss on Robby's lips, before stripping his shirt off.

You watch them, heart swelling with love and need. Their bodies are still hard from the demands of your profession. Their shirts are off before they help you with yours.

"Arms up, baby", Abbot commands as Robby removes your shirt. Your bra, pants, and undies are next. Their eyes dark with desire as they take you in.

"Fucking beautiful baby," Abbot groans, his fingers ghosting over you.

"Could watch you all day pretty girl" Robby's brown eyes taking in every inch, as he tries to ignore his rapidly growing cock.

"Shower first, please." you tiredly laugh out.

You help Abbot with his leg as he settles on the bench. You try not to stare at his salt-and-pepper happy trail, large thighs, or swelling cock.

Robby turns on the water as you help each other bathe. The water and soap feels cleansing, like a new beginning for the three of you.

——

Making your way into Robby's bedroom, the three of you lay on his bed. It's a tight fit, but its perfect.

Kisses are traded as fingers continue to feel, group, and touch. It's all so new and overwhelming, but you refused to stop. You need them now.

Abbot sits up, leaning against the headboard, and settles you into his lap. You can't help but whine and grind your ass against his cock. It's large and thick at the base, while Robby's is just a little longer.

"Naughty little girl, wanting us to take care of that perfect wet pussy huh?" He whispers in your ear as Robby spreads your legs open, kissing his way down from your thighs.

"Please, Daddy," you whimper out, having to stop yourself from humping the air. Their groans fill the room as your words sink in.

"We got you, baby, we got you. Gonna fill you all night long, we promise.”

The night was the first of many in your unconventional relationship and one the three of you would never forget.

Patchwork

Jack Abbott x F!Reader

[Plus Size!Reader friendly] [POC!Reader friendly]

Warnings: blood, injuries, vague (likely incorrect) medical talk, car crash, pining, Jack being self deprecating, whump, hurt comfort, a smidge of angst, fluff, uh I think that’s it? (Let me know if I missed any)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Reader runs a small coffee shop a few blocks down from PTMC, after closing she brings any leftover pastries to the ED for the workers there.

Masterlist

"Are you sure you're fine finishing up here on your own?" Sadie's soft voice called out to you as she finished emptying the dustpan into the trashcan. "I really don't mind staying if you need me to."

The soft clicking of the pastry case sounded before you spoke, "Yep! All that's left to do is get these pastries packed up to drop off at the hospital and clean out the case." You reached forward into the glass case and began grabbing the various baked goods with your gloved hands, "and I'm more than capable of handling a few dozen danishes and scones on my own." Each sugar-dusted pastry you pulled from the case was carefully set inside a cardboard box resting on the counter to your right.

Sadie nodded and tied the trash bag up before hoisting it up behind her on her broad shoulders. "Alrighty! Well, I will see you Monday morning then!" She smiled at you and started walking toward the back of the café. "I'll drop this off out back and then head out—be safe walking home."

You smiled and nodded while placing the last of the cheese danishes into the box. "You too! G'night, Sadie!" You gently folded the lid of the box over itself and secured it, making sure it wouldn't pop open as you placed it inside the wheeled bag sitting on the floor.

Turning on your heel you walked to the counter along the back wall which was lined with various espresso machines and cups, a small cardboard box with a smiley face sticker on the lid sitting in front of them. Inside the box sat an half dozen apple turnovers you had made especially to bring with you to the hospital for a certain someone.

For the last five years you had managed to follow your dreams and open up a small coffee shop in your hometown of Pittsburgh. You’d saved for most of your working life in order to be able to afford a small spot down town—the spot in question having been a major fixer upper which was the only reason you had been able to afford it. So for months, you worked tirelessly along with your parents and a few friends until you were able to open up Street Brews. The first year was slow, but after a particularly good review on a local food blog, business had picked up and you had been able to hire a handful of employees.

For the last six months at the end of most days after closing, you packed up any leftover baked goods that hadn’t been bought and took them to the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and gave them to the ED workers. The idea had come to you after a mass shooting took place at a music festival, while you hadn’t been there yourself you knew several people who had and saw the effect it had on the community. So, as a thank you to the doctors and nurses who had saved so many lives that day, you and your two employees who had been working that day closed the shop early and packed up all the food you had to take to the hospital.

Ever since then this had become a kind of routine for you, a few days out of the week whenever you were working until closing, you would pack up leftover food and take it with you to the Emergency Department. On days when you weren’t there for closing and were there for the opening shift, you would take coffee to drop off on your way home since the hospital was on your route.

Over the months you had gotten to know a lot of the people who worked in the ED, forming friendships with many of them outside of the walls of the hospital. You learned what some of the doctors liked and disliked and sometimes made sure to bring them any pastries you knew they preferred, a certain doctor had an affinity for the apple turnovers you had brought in a handful of times.

The doctor in question was Jack Abbott, one of the attending physicians who typically worked the night shift in the ED. He intrigued you from the moment you met him, the stoic face and friendly demeanor earning your interest and drawing you back to the hospital night after night with offerings of pastries in hand. Whenever you stopped by to drop off food, you found yourself scanning the brightly lit department looking for the head of tousled salt and pepper curls that belonged to the handsome man.

You wanted nothing more than to get to know him, learn what made him tick.

You would be lying to everyone, yourself included if you said you didn’t have a bit of a crush on the doctor.

Which is why you had made sure to make extra apple turnovers that morning in order to have some to bring in for him when you planned on making a bold move and asking him out to dinner or a cup of coffee sometime.

“Good luck with doctor hottie tonight boss!” Sadie pulled you back to the present and away from your thoughts of said doctor hottie, you waved goodbye to your friend and ignoring the knowing grin she aimed your way as she headed out the front door.

The bell above the door rang as it swung open and closed, the familiar sound ringing in your ears as you placed both of the boxes of pastries into wheeled bag ensuring they were safely tucked inside the carrier for the trip down the street.

The sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet space.

There was a dull ache in your back just behind your shoulders as you stood and grabbed your heavy patchwork cardigan, quickly throwing it over your shoulders. You knew it was from your terrible posture as you worked the register all day, no matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t slouch or hunch your back, you still found your shoulders slumping and your neck craning whenever you worked the register.

Now alone in the shop, you hurried to pull all of the trays out of the pastry case and get them washed so they could be loaded up with fresh baked goods when the opening shift came in. Soon enough you were finished and ready to head out, so you switched all of the lights off and pulled up the handle on your wheeled bag while swinging your purse onto your shoulder. The only light in the shop came from the setting sun which flowed in through the front window, it cast an orange glow on the floor in front of you as you pulled open the front door and the bell chimed.

The wheels of the bag rumbled against the cracked sidewalk as you began making your way in the direction of the hospital and your apartment.

Even though it was rather late in the evening, there was still plenty of traffic, the buzzing of traffic and honking of horns being a background noise you found comfort in as you walked. In the distance you could hear sirens, either from ambulances, police, or fire trucks you weren’t quite sure.

Up ahead was a cross walk where you would normally cross, the sign hanging on the opposite side of the street showing a red hand which signaled it wasn’t yet your turn to cross, so you came to a slow stop at the edge of the sidewalk and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You scrolled through social media as you waited for the ding which would signal for you to cross the street, absentmindedly liking and reposting pictures as you came across them and smiling to yourself at some.

A rhythmic chime sounded from the sign across the street, alerting you that it was now safe to cross, so without looking you stepped off the sidewalk and began moving across the street with your eyes still on your phone screen.

That had been your mistake.

With your attention on the device in your hand, you didn’t notice the car that ran a red light and was speeding down the road until it was far too late.

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦

“You’re here early, again.” Dana piped up from the nurses station in the middle of the room as Jack strolled into the ED with his bag slung over his shoulder, “that’s what? The third time this week?”

Jack glanced over toward the charge nurse who was giving him a knowing grin as he passed by.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Dana.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Whatever you say Doc.”

Jack ignored her and continued his journey to the back of the ED where the lockers sat. He scanned the rooms as he passed looking to get any kind of read on how busy the shift would be. Once he reached the lockers he blindly put in the code, his body working on auto pilot as he put his things inside the small space. He swung his stethoscope around his neck letting it hang loose over his chest and blew out a long breath making his cheeks puff up.

Absentmindedly his eyes went to the watch around his left wrist, checking for the time.

It was nearly seven.

Against his will, the first thought that came to mind upon seeing the time, was the small coffee shop three blocks down that closed at six.

He wondered if you would be coming by today or not.

A small part of him hoped you were.

With a heavy sigh, jacks hand went up to grip the sides of his stethoscope and let his arms hang down as he walked back out into the Pitt to begin the night.

“Abbott! We’ve got a MVC coming in!” Dana called to him from in front of the ambulance bay doors, “one minute out!”

Jack closed his eyes and allowed himself a second of preparation but was pulled out of his mind by a pat on the arm.

“No rest for the wicked brother.” Robby shot him a tight smile and hurried off toward the automatic doors to wait on the incoming trauma.

Jack fell into step behind Robby and within a few seconds was pulling on a gown and gloves.

“What do we know?” He asked no one in particular while stepping to tie the back of Robby’s gown.

“Female, age unknown, struck while crossing the street by a car running a red light. Bystander called 911, said she was conscious but was unresponsive by the time responders arrived on scene.” Someone began relaying the information they had received from dispatch as Robby moved to tie Jack’s gown in the back.

“Are you sure you wanna stick around for this one?” Jack asked his friend, “Your shift’s nearly over.”

Robby shrugged and stared off in the direction of the ambulance sirens that were quickly approaching, “Not like I have anything else to do, so what’s one more patient?”

The flashing lights could be seen bouncing off of the buildings as the ambulance came into view.

Jack immediately started mentally cataloging all of the possible injuries that could be heading their way; head trauma, spinal injury, broken bones, internal bleeding, the list was long but he was prepared for nearly anything.

Nearly.

The one thing he was not prepared for was who would be on the gurney that was pulled out of the back of the ambulance.

The second the doors opened the EMTs were calling out vitals while moving to pull the gurney out, the doctors moving to begin assessing the patient.

All accept for Jack who stood frozen staring at the familiar patchwork cardigan he had been waiting to see since he arrived. Not like this though, not torn and covered in blood from the deep laceration on your head.

Five seconds.

That was all the time Jack allowed himself to freeze before jumping into action and moving to hurry inside along with the gurney, falling back on his training.

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦

“BP dropping!”

Doctors moved in perfect sync with one another, circling the gurney holding the motionless body of the woman Jack had been quietly yearning for. Some sick voice in the back of his head told him that this was the result of that small hint of attachment he had allowed himself to harbor for the kind woman. To him, it was the universes way of getting back at him for daring to think someone like him—someone with so many demons in his head and oceans of blood on his hands that would never wash clean—could ever deserve someone as sweet and caring as her.

His mind was shut off as he worked, his hands and body working entirely on instinct and training as they worked desperately to stabilize you alongside Robby and some of the med students.

He forced himself to send his mind elsewhere, to think of anything but the way you looked lying lifeless in that bed. The first thing he thought of was the moment he realized that he had allowed you to work your way into his heart.

It was a weekend, far later than any of your other visits to drop off baked goods to the Pitt, that was what piqued Jack’s interest.

He had been standing outside in the ambulance bay, getting some air after a tough loss. He wasn’t sure what had made him walk out there instead of to the roof, but looking back on it he was thankful for whatever it was. While he was standing outside staring up at the dark and starless sky watching his breath float up into the air, he had been so in his head at that moment that he hadn’t even heard you walking up behind him until you spoke.

“Dr Abbott!”

The voice pulled his eyes off of the sky and toward it, locking eyes with its owner.

Jack greeted you and put on a smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants, “Is everything alright? You’re here awfully late.” He quickly scanned your tired looking form for any injuries that could have brought you here at such a late hour.

His eyes lingered on that same chunky patchwork sweater you always wore before dropping to the small wheeled cart you pulled behind you.

You shook your head and moved a hand to rub along the back of your neck, “Oh, don’t worry nothings wrong!” You quickly assfumbling slightly over your words as you came to a stop in front of him, “I was testing out some new pastry recipes for the shop and needed some taste testers.”

The wheels of your cart rumbled against the smooth pavement as you pulled it between the two of you and reached for the zipper.

“I didn’t realize I was at the shop so late until I was done, so I figured I’d stop by and drop these off on my way home.” Inside the cart sat three boxes, each of which contained a different pastry that you had baked, “There’s apple turnovers, some toasted almond croissants, and brown butter chocolate chip cookies!” You stood and held out the boxes to Jack.

“Apple turnovers huh?” Jack’s lips turned up as he accepted the boxes from you, “how’d you know I love apples?”

Your eyes went wide, “I didn’t! I had no idea actually.” You looked anywhere but at him, “I swear I didn’t know that, the recipe was just in a book I got from my grandmother and I had really been wanting to try them out and I-“

“Take a breath.” Jack cut you off with a quiet chuckle, your frantic rambling dying on your tongue at the sound, “I’m only teasing. I do love apples though.”

Finally your eyes went to him, still avoiding his gaze as you watched him lift the lid of the box labeled ‘Apple’ with a smiley face scribbled next to it.

“Well, uh let me know what you think of those then! I’m hoping to add some of those to the menu I just need some feedback.” Your smile returned as you briefly met his eyes and then moved to zip the top of the bag back up, “I really need to get going though.”

Jack’s eyes shot back up, “You sure you don’t wanna come in and say hi to everyone? I’m sure they’d love to thank you for the treats.” He balanced the boxes in one hand while pointing over his shoulder toward the door with a thumb.

You quickly shook your head, “I’ve got a little boy who’s home alone and probably driving my neighbors insane since I’m late for his dinner.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up as he opened his mouth to speak only to be immediately cut off by you yelling.

“He’s a cat! Oh my word he’s a cat!” Jack could practically see you panicking over your choice of words, he did his best to bite back a laugh, “I swear I do not have a human child at home not being fed oh my word.” You ran your palms over your face and groaned, “I’m not starving my cat either! He’s got a timer feeder, he just refuses to eat unless someone watches him. Gosh I could not have worded that any worse.”

A loud laugh broke you out of your embarrassed rambling.

You stared wide eyed at the usually stoic man in front of you, you had never seen him laugh like he currently was, it made you smile.

“I uh-“ You started, “are you okay, Dr Abbott?”

Jack was nearly doubling over from how hard he was laughing, his eyes squeezed shut which made his crowd feet stand out more.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of them.

Off of him.

“That-“ Jack started, his laughter dying down, “I haven’t had a laugh like that in a long time.” With one final shake of his chest from a breathy chuckle he straightened his posture and looked over at you, “I needed that.”

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan, “and *I* haven’t been that embarrassed in a long time.” You cringed, once again pulling your eyes away from his intense gaze.

The air between the two of you felt lighter, less loaded.

“You had better get home to that little boy.” He fixed his hold on the boxes in his arms, “I’m sure he misses his mamma.”

The bottom of your cardigan stretched down as you pushed your hands further into the pockets, “He most definitely does.” You pulled a hand out of your pocket and grabbed hold of the handle on the cart, “Again I am so sorry about my horrible, horrible wording there, Dr Abbott.”

“Just Jack, please. Dr Abbott makes me feel like you're one of my patients.” He shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling awkward in front of you, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you’re never one of my patients.”

“Me neither.”

Jack smiled a genuine smile at you, his eyes softening, “Be careful walking home alright?”

“I will, and make sure to let me know what you think of those turnovers yeah?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hurried off down the side walk, teeth clamping down on the insides of your cheeks to stop the smile that was forming on your face as heat rose to the tips of your ears.

The next visit you made to the hospital bearing gifts, Jack was sure to tell you that he loved the apple turnovers.

They were added to the menu the next week.

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦

“She has a cat, make sure someone gets ahold of her emergency contact so they can go take care of him.” Jack muttered aloud as he watched the gurney holding your barely stable body was wheeled off toward the elevator, there was an OR ready and waiting for your arrival.

“You okay?”

Jack ignored Robby’s question and ripped his gown and gloves off, stepping over the smeared puddle of crimson on the white tiled floor. He chucked the bloodied objects into the bin and began moving toward the open glass doors of the trauma room.

“I’ll call them myself.” He didn't know who he was telling, Robby or himself.

“Abbott.” Robby spoke a bit louder this time, his footsteps following behind his colleague, “Jack!”

The only thing that halted Jack’s march to the nurses station was Robby’s hand clamping down on his arm to force him to stop.

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Robby folded his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heels, “Your jaw has been clenched so hard for the last thirty minutes I’m surprised you haven’t cracked any teeth yet,”

Jack avoided Robby’s eyes, his gaze instead falling on the blood covering the floor in trauma one, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem being pulled off her case.”

Jack’s eyes snapped to Robby’s, “What?”

“You’re too close to this, too close to her. You know the rules.” Robby’s eyes softened, “You care for her, I know, and there’s nothing wrong with that but I can’t have you working on her with that in mind.”

Jack wanted to protest, to tell Robby that he was wrong and he had no idea what he was talking about.

But that would be a lie.

And they both knew it.

He cursed and turned away from Robby, one hand going up to rake through his hair.

“You’ve been coming in early for nearly every shift in the last three months, you come in to see her. I’ve seen how your mood changes when she comes in to drop off food,” Robby continued even as Jack walked away from him, “hell, I never see you in a better mood than when she’s been by. And I know it’s not because of any pastries.”

Jack stopped, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Let me know when she’s out of surgery. Please.” His last word was quieter, barely a whisper.

He walked away.

“She’s in good hands, you know that.”

Jack stayed silent as he walked toward the nurses station.

“Take a break after you call.” Robby called after him, Jack’s only response was a thumbs up over his shoulder.

He already craved the cool wind on the roof.

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦

Everything hurt.

So much.

You couldn’t breathe.

You felt like you were being choked.

It felt like it took every muscle in your body just to muster up enough strength to open your eyes. Even barely cracking them open you couldn’t stand the dim lights that were shining down on you. You coughed, the sound garbled and strained as you began choking on something and hyperventilating.

There was an odd sound, like metal scraping against the floor, followed by a loud curse and then you felt hands on you.

Your eyes shot open all the way, panic beginning to take hold of your mind and body.

You only squinted for a second before locking eyes with the person standing beside you. A familiar head of salt and pepper curls, and brown eyes that were bouncing from your face to something off to the side.

There was a tube down your throat.

“Hey hey hey-“ Jack spoke slowly and calmly, his voice not quite matching the emotions reflected in his eyes as he spoke your name, “just take a slow breath for me, in through your nose. Can you do that?”

Pain bloomed throughout your chest and down your arm, you barely even noticed that your right arm was restrained by a sling through the panic and blinding pain you felt.

Jack’s hands went up to your shoulders, the one on your right side barely even touching you as he gently pushed you back down onto the pillows, “You’ve got a tube in your throat that’s been helping you breathe,” he leaned over you and made eye contact, “I know it’s scary and it doesn’t feel good but you need to calm down alright? Can you do that for me?”

Your breathing was rapid and you felt like your whole body was shaking.

Your eyes bounced around the dimly lit room, the white walls and fluorescent lighting bleeding in through the glass door. You were in the ED.

“You’re in the hospital, you were in an accident.” Jack leaned his head to the side to put himself in your line of sight, eyes locked on yours, “take another deep breath for me, Robby is on his way in and we’ll get this tube out.”

One of his hands moved, his thumb brushing across your cheek to gently wipe away something wet.

Were you crying?

There was a rapid beeping coming from something behind you, it was so loud.

“There we go, heart rate’s coming down, good job.”

You focused on the man in front of you as you tried your best to calm down, to push down the fear that was rushing through you.

The door to the room slid open and two people walked in, Robby and Perlah.

“Look who’s awake.” Robby said with a smile.

Jack spoke up and you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing in on the beeping that was gradually slowing down. It was your monitor, the rapid beeping was your heart rate, you were panicking thus your heart rate was through the roof and the monitor was alerting the doctors of that.

Dr Robby stepped into your view while Jack leaned out of it and away from the bed, you stopped him from moving away completely by shooting your hand out and grabbing onto his arm. He said nothing and moved back, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing it tight.

Perlah turned the lights up, you knew it was so th

Your head was pounding.

Robby said your name, pulling your attention toward him, “Can you hear me alright?” You nodded slowly, cringing at the feeling of the tube moving in your throat as you moved, “Okay that’s good. Now I see you’ve got a good strong grip on Dr Abbott’s hand there and that’s good, that’s exactly what we wanna see.” You were in too much pain to care that you were clinging desperately to his hand to ground yourself, “Now, can you follow my finger here with your eyes?”

Another nod, another cringe.

Robby held up his pointer finger and began moving it around in your line of sight

“Okay now just bear with me while I bring in a bright light so I can check your pupils, I’ll be quick.”

Robby stuck to his word and was as quick as he could be with the bright light, it still made you wince though. Robby nodded and said something to Perlah but you didn't quite catch what it was.

“What do you say we get this tube out of your throat?” Robby asked, pulling on a pair of gloves.

You looked over at him and nodded quickly, wincing at the harsh movement.

Jack stood and moved to begin helping Robby with the extubation but stopped short, you noticed a Robby give him a pointed glare.

“Just sit with her Jack, keep her calm while we do this.” You were thankful for Robby’s words, holding his hand was indeed helping you calm down.

Jack looked down at you and sat back in the chair pulled up beside your bed. You squeezed his hand again, this time involuntarily as you watched Robby and Perlah move around the bed.

“Are you in any pain?” Jack asked you, his thumb gently moving along the back of your hand.

You nodded quickly.

Jack nodded to Perlah who was already moving toward you to push pain meds through your IV.

Robby explained the process to you slowly, telling you each thing that would happen; they would lean the bed up a bit which might be a little uncomfortable, then make sure your air way was clear before having you take a deep breath so they could remove the tube when you exhaled.

“Feel free to squeeze Abbott’s hand as hard as you need to, he’s a tough boy he can take it.” Robby joked.

While you appreciated the attempt at lightening the mood, you didn’t laugh.

Even though Robby was only joking, you still squeezed Jack’s hand with what little strength you could muster as they pulled the tube from your throat. The second it was out you started coughing, the pain in your arm and chest flaring up as you leaned forward and coughed again, the rush of cool air into your dry mouth feeling nauseating and amazing all at once.

Jack moved away from the bed leaving your hand cold and clenching in on itself as you coughed and your breathing slowly evened out. Robby placed an oxygen mask over your face and spoke something to the Perlah who then excused herself from the room, dimming the lights on her way out.

You watched her disappear out into the busy ED.

Jack appeared at your side again with a small plastic cup of water, popping a bendy straw into the liquid, “Thirsty?” He questioned and looked down at you.

You nodded, “Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse and strained, but it felt good to talk again.

Robby worked silently at the computer as Jack lifted the mask from your face and held the straw up to your mouth.

“Drink it slowly alright? That way you don’t choke.”

Another nod.

The feeling of the water going down your dry, sore throat was quite possibly the best feeling you could think of in that moment. Jack had to pull the cup away from you to stop you from gulping down the entire cup in one go, you didn’t miss the slight upward twitch at the corner of his lips.

“How’re you feeling?” Jack set the cup on the small table that was pushed up against the wall.

You breathed in slowly, relishing in the feeling of not having a tube down your throat, “What-what happened?” You blinked and watched Jack carefully.

There was a silent conversation between the two doctors in the room before Robby excused himself.

Jack began speaking, “You were in an accident, from what we know a driver ran a red light and hit you while you in a crosswalk.” Jack shifted in the chair as he leaned forward and cautiously grabbed your hand again, his calloused fingers fidgeting with your own, “someone saw the whole thing and called 911, you were rushed here. You were unconscious when you arrived.”

It was only then that you fully realized the state of your body; your right arm was in a sling which was secured over your chest, you could feel a bandage on the side of your face and there was a horrible pain in your right hip that was only slightly dulled by the pain meds.

“My arm?” You cleared your throat after speaking, glancing back up at Jack.

“You had a broken collarbone, and a fractured ulna—which is this bone here on the outside of your arm.” He ran a finger along the outside of your good arm to show you which bone, “clavicle was fixed with surgery and a plate and so was the arm. On top of that, you’ve got a pretty sizable head lac, bruised kidney, bruised liver, some pretty bad blood loss from internal bleeding but that’s all under control now thanks to the surgical team. And your head should heal with minimal scarring thanks to plastics.”

You stared at him silently taking in all of the information, “that’s a lot,” you breathed, a sudden realization hitting you and causing you to move and start searching the bed, “My phone, I need my phone I need to call-“

“Hey, easy. Take it easy.” Jack stood again and once again moved to get you to sit still, clearly afraid that you would hurt yourself or bust your sutures, “Your emergency contact has been called and your phone and stuff are over here.” He gestured to a white plastic bag sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, a blue cord leading to your phone charging it, “Your little boy at home is being taken care of, don’t worry”

Stilling and settling back against the bed you watched jack carefully as he sat back down, “My little boy?”

“Your cat.”

Your lips turned up, “Yeah, I know.”

You laughed.

“You’re laughing, which is a good sign.” Jack smiled.

“You remembered my cat?”

He nodded, “Kinda hard to forget about the little boy after the conversation we had in the ambulance bay.”

You dropped your head back against the pillows and your hand came up to the bandage on the side of your head, “Is that my sweater?” Your eyes fell to the chair Jack was sitting, your sweater was folded over the side of the arm partially laying across his lap.

You could have swore you saw Jack’s cheeks turn pink, “Uh yeah it is.” He reached down and grabbed it before setting it on your lap, “You’re always wearing it and I figured it has some kind of special meaning to you, so I did my best to fix it up.” He turned the heavy knitted garment over to show the all but nonexistent blood stains and the rips that had been carefully stitched back up, “I’m no tailor, but I do know how to remove blood stains and stitch up a wound, besides I usually have a mending kit in my bag and I had a few too many free hours to kill today…”

With your good arm, you clutched the fabric right and ran your fingers over the stitches, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared down at it, “Dr Abbott…”

“Jack.”

You laughed, a hearty light laugh that hurt way too much but you didn’t care.

“What? The idea of me sewing that funny?”

Shaking your head you pulled your lips between your teeth for a second before speaking, “I was bringing you apple turnovers.” You leaned your head back and up, staring at the ceiling tiles, “I had a whole plan, rehearsed it with Sadie while we cleaned up after closing.”

“Rehearsed?” He blinked.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime with an offering of apple turnovers.”

Jack froze, “Coffee with me?” The lines on his forehead deepened as his brows went up.

Another laugh from you, this time a nervous one, “I know, it’s stupid. Why would you wanna go out with me huh?”

“How ‘bout dinner?”

“What?”

“I mean after you’re discharged of course, there’s a new Italian place that opened up a few blocks away that I’ve been dying to try.”

“I guess I have something to look forward to when I get out of here huh?”

Abbot x F!Reader!

Cw: angst, misunderstandings but happy ending! Age gap mentioned but not specific

While you and Abbot hadn’t exactly put a name on it, you had felt pretty secure in your place in his life.

Did it still hurt he wouldn’t put a name on it or meet the people in your life? Or let you meet his?

Yes — but you knew it was for a reason. He needed time, time to realize it was okay to move on after his late wife. The age-gap was also a small part on his hesitation but it seemed less and less noticeable with each passing day.

There was a drawer of your things at his, and his twelve days off were always with you. You knew him, inside and out after a year of, whatever this was. He needed time to be ready, and call it what it was; a relationship and you knew the wait would be worth it for a man like Abbot.

So when you see his phone light up when he was in the bathroom after dinner, you were surprised to see a text that knocked the wind out of you.

“I had a wonderful time yesterday Jack! I’m thinking that wine bar I told you about for our second date? ;)”

Date?? A date?? What.. you can’t help but think as your hands shake. You open the text and see a profile photo of a beautiful women. She was older, around his age for sure but elegant. She was the type of woman no one would bat an eye at if they were together.

You quicky tossed the phone down, unable to bring your self to read their texts.

So he was ready to date.. just not with you, you think as bile comes up your throat. You rush to gather your things as tears threaten to spill, unable to take being in his home any longer.

You hear him come out as your getting your to leave.

“Sweetheart? Where you going? What’s going on” Abbot can see your shoulders shaking, concerns downs him as he realizes your in tears.

“Love, slow down, what’s going on”

He reaches for you and you can’t help but flinch away, making him pause and step back.

“Sweethea..”

You cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore lies.

“Cindy seems pretty excited about your second date. Funny, didn’t realize you were single. You should probably respond”, you barely manage to get out, as you rush out.

“Y/n” you hear him calling for you but you refuse to listen.

You were so stupid. So so stupid to believe his lies.

——

Jack rests his head in his hands, unsure of what to do next. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he can’t help but think.

His life was complicated, after his wife died. He thought he died with her, even with therapy, Robby, and his friends. The nights and ER were his only comforts, until he met you.

You. Who made him want to see the day again. Made him want to try again and boy did that make him feel guilty. Even more so with how kind, understanding and sweet you were. Never caring about his leg, his hesitation, or age gap.

He didn’t cheat on you nor think he was single. Dana had wanted to meet for lunch, probably to tell him to put himself out there again and instead it was her friend, Cindy, who showed up.

He stayed to be kind and now he’s mentally kicking himself for doing it, for not telling the people in his life about you, his sweet girl.

She had gotten his number through Dana and Jack can only imagine what you were thinking and going through. He had put you through more than you deserved and now he had to fix this fast, before he lost you too.

——

Running back to your place might have been cowardly but you didn’t care. You had spent a year of your life with Jack Abbot and now it’s was all falling apart.

You curl up in your bed, unable to stop the tears as you feel like hours go by. No contact from Jack, no Abbot, which hurts you more. Tears roll down as you sniffle, when suddenly you feel a large hand on your body, making you still.

“Oh sweetheart please, please I’m sorry for breaking in but please. Let me explain, please baby” his voice sings to you, as he gently rubs your back to soothes you. Coaxing you up to look at his handsome face.

Your eyes red, teary and wet. Jacks heart squeezes as he gazes at you.

“What do you want.” You bite out, anger rushing through you.

“It’s not what you think” Jack says as he gently holds your hands in his, “please just listen to me”.

He explains everything, how Dana set it up thinking she was helping, how he stayed to be polite and regrets it, even more so as she got his number later. How he should have told you immediately and regrets his actions, how they’ve hurt you and him.

You stare at him, as he opens his heart to you. A part of you wants to forget and forgive but another, wants to know what this really means for you.

“What am I to you jack? I’m tired. I’m tired of being a secret and I don’t want to pressure you. So please, where do we go from here” you tearfully sniffle out.

Jack moves closer to you in the bed, and takes your face into his hand. His lips brush softly against yours, as he whispers “no more hiding, you’re mine and I love you”, before going in to deepen the kiss.

“I love you too”

——

“Wait a minute, did you break my door locks???”