God I Hate To Be That Person But Ughhhhhh I Love That Jack Fic Where They Find Out Reader Is Pregnant

𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 I chapter two

(dr. jack abbot x nurse!reader)

⤿ chapter summary: your day off opens in quiet, comforting routine. errands and small talk feel almost enough to keep the world steady. but scattered signs—disturbed spaces, cryptic messages—suggest unseen eyes on you.

⤿ warning(s): stalking

⟡ masterlist ; previous I next

✦ word count: 1.9k

Your first day off in twelve shifts begins the way small miracles do: with sunlight, silence, and the smell of good food.  

You stand in the kitchen, spatula in hand, watching thick‑cut slices of bacon curl and pop in the cast‑iron. A pot of full black beans simmers beside them, spiced with a dash of chipotle, and sourdough toasts slowly in the oven. The kettle whistles; you pour the water over loose‑leaf tea—then carry everything to the coffee table.  

You sink into the couch, remote in one hand, plate balanced carefully on your knees. The History Channel flickers to life on the TV—some World War II documentary already mid-narration. A gravelly voice drones about tank strategies and bitter winters while you dig into your breakfast: bacon, beans, toast, and two sunny-side-up eggs. When the video ends you queue another—street‑food vendors in Oaxaca—then another—an eight‑hour lo‑fi playlist you’ll never finish. Breakfast stretches into morning, warm and unhurried, crumbs gathering on your pajama pants.  

By ten you’re upright, mug refilled, windows cracked to let in crisp river air. You sweep, wipe counters, toss sheets into the washer, and chase a rogue dust bunny across the hallway with the broom. Domestic quiet feels luxurious, almost decadent.  

Suddenly, a sharp voice drifts through the open window. “Again?! Seriously?!”  

You peer through the window and down into the courtyard. Mr. Donnelly—gray beard, Steelers cap—stands by the communal trash corral, hands on hips. Black bags are shredded, cardboard flaps torn open, and yesterday’s takeout containers scatter like confetti. The mess is worst around your bin: coffee grounds, chicken bones, a tea packet glinting foil in the sun.  

You lean on the sill. “Everything okay, Mr. D?”  

He looks up, exasperation softening when he sees you. “Raccoons, maybe cats. Little bandits had themselves a buffet!”  

“Roger. I’ll be right down.”  

You pull on jeans, an old hoodie, and rubber gloves. Downstairs you and Donnelly work side by side, scooping refuse into fresh bags, tying double knots. He mutters about city pest control; you crack jokes about raccoon Michelin ratings.  

Halfway through, he wipes his brow with a sleeve. “Hey—off topic. My daughter mailed me a bottle of turmeric pills, swears they’re good for my joints. That true, or is it Facebook nonsense?”  

“Turmeric can help a little with inflammation,” you say, cinching a bag, “but it’s no substitute for your prescription NSAID—and it can mess with blood thinners, so clear it with your doc first.”  

He nods—ever since you spotted that odd, pearly mole on his temple last year, the one he thought was just an age spot until the biopsy came back melanoma, he treats your word like gospel. “Good to know. She also sent me a link about apple‑cider‑vinegar cures, but I figured that was bunk.”  

“ACV is great on salad,” you dead‑pan, hefting another sack, “and terrible for curing anything else.”  

Donnelly barks a laugh. “Knew it.”  

It’s odd that only your bin is mauled, but he chalks it up to the smell of your bacon‑grease jar and you let the theory stand. When everything’s tidy you hose the concrete, angle the spray under the bins, and he grips your shoulder in a grateful squeeze.  

“You’ve saved my hide twice now—first the cancer, now the critter fiasco.”  

“Just doing the neighborhood rounds,” you reply, stripping off your gloves.  

“Still. I owe you. If you ever need a ride anywhere, you call me.”  

“Deal.”  

You thank him again, head back upstairs for a shower, and let the steam rinse away trash‑day grime—and the faint, nagging thought that raccoons rarely prefer bacon grease to everyone else’s leftovers.  

Upstairs, you kick off your shoes and head straight for the bathroom. Steam is already fogging the mirror by the time your hoodie hits the hamper. You stand under a scalding spray until your shoulders unknot, grit swirling away in ribbons. Shampoo, coconut body wash, a quick exfoliating scrub over the calluses that surgical gloves never let your skin forget—small rituals that reset your head as much as your body.  

Fresh out, you wrap yourself in an oversized towel, pad to the bedroom, and let the day‑off uniform choose itself. You massage lotion into your hands—cuticles forever dry from incessant scrubbing—then slip your phone from the charger to check the time.  

11:58. Perfect.  

In the kitchen you pack a canvas tote: your wallet, a couple of mesh produce bags, the prescription bottle that needs refilling, and that one pair of trousers with a busted hem for the tailor. You make a quick mental note to add swing by the thrift store to the list on your phone; you’ve been meaning to hunt for a new lamp for a good month now.  

Just as you bend to lace your boots, the phone buzzes. The screen lights with a photo: Jack's hand—broad knuckles, faint surgical nicks—cradling a steaming ceramic mug. Beneath, his caption:  

4‑minute steep, no boil. 👍  

A laugh snorts out before you can stop it. Jack, with the earnest proof‑of‑completion energy of a dad texting his first selfie. You thumb a reply:  

Gold star, Doctor. Welcome to the leaf side.  

Before you hit send, another buzz stacks above Jack’s thread. The preview text looks like a cat walked across a keyboard: ahsdklfhasdklfhaskl hi.

No name. No profile pic. A number you don’t recognize.  You swiftly block the number without opening the message.  Probably just spam.

Outside, the hallway smells of floor wax and warm laundry tumbling in the communal dryer—normal, safe scents. You lock the apartment, test the knob twice, then head for the stairwell, reciting the grocery list in your head like a mantra: eggs, oranges, rice and a sweet treat, maybe two or even three.

By the time your boots hit the sidewalk, sunlight on your face and the city’s Saturday hum around you, the odd text and the midnight raccoons have folded into a corner of your mind labeled later. Today is still yours, and you intend to spend every mundane minute of it.  

. . .  

When you swing past the Riverfront Market, the parking lot looks like a disaster drill—SUVs circling like vultures, carts jammed in every corral. You mutter a tactical retreat, swing back onto the boulevard, and promise yourself groceries will be the final stop. And so, you knock out your errands with efficiency: trousers dropped at the tailor (“two centimeters, blind hem, please”), prescription refilled, and lastly, a quick victory lap through the thrift shop where you score a tiffany desk lamp for five bucks.  

An hour later, you roll into the same lot to find it blissfully tamer—maybe half‑full, the Saturday rush already migrating to lunch. Perfect. You snag a space near the cart return, grab your canvas tote, and head inside.  

The produce aisle is crisp with the scent of misted greens when a familiar voice rings out behind you. “There she is—my favorite surgical saint!”  

You turn as Dana—her sharp blonde bob swinging over her shoulders—eases her cart into yours with a playful thunk. Her niece, a round‑cheeked toddler in star‑print leggings, claps at the gentle collision, squealing when you reach out to give her belly a quick tickle, thumb and forefinger pinching her marshmallow cheeks just enough to earn a giggle.  

“Hi there!” you laugh, straightening as you look up at a beaming charge nurse. “I thought your day off was reserved for sweatpants and true‑crime podcasts.”  

“Tiny tyrant wanted blueberries,” she says, ruffling the toddler’s hair. “And my daughter wanted thirty uninterrupted minutes, so Nana came to the rescue.” She drops a pint of berries into her cart, then peers into yours. “Real vegetables? Bakery bread? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a functioning adult.”  

“Shh,” you whisper. “I have a reputation to ruin.”

You angle your cart toward the tomatoes; Dana falls in beside you, matching your lazy pace. Her niece lunges for every bright piece of produce, and Dana buys temporary peace with a steady drip of bunny‑shaped crackers. Between grabs you trade life bulletins: you ask with genuine interest about how Benji’s woodworking side hustle is faring—“He finally sold that live‑edge coffee table,” Dana crows, “and now he thinks he’s Etsy royalty”—and she fires back, wanting to know if you ever sent in that application for the citywide cook‑off. You confess you chickened out at the last minute, then admit you’ve been taking weekend pottery instead, which makes her whoop loud enough to startle the toddler. “Look at us,” she says, snagging a ripe Roma, “two adrenaline junkies pretending we have hobbies like normal people.”

Halfway through the avocado display, Dana’s tone slips to mock‑casual. “So,” she drawls, examining you like a crystal ball, “rumor is our favorite former combat medic traded sludge‑grade coffee for—” she waves at the tea section up ahead “—fancy tea.”  

Heat blooms at your ears. “Abbot can drink whatever he wants.”  

Dana’s blue eyes sparkle. “ Just Abbot, huh? Funny—heard you called him Jack on the radio last week.”  

Your mouth opens, shuts. “Slip of the tongue.”  

“Sure,” she teases, easing a grin. “There’s a betting pool, you know. Odds on why the caffeine king is suddenly brewing leaves.”  

“You people will gamble on anything.”  

Dana parks the cart and crosses her arms. “Current theories: secret detox, midlife crisis, or”—she lifts her brows—“a certain pretty surgical nurse’s influence.”  

You snort. “Please. Nothing’s going on. Just two over‑worked fossils hydrating.”  

“Nothing she says, using his first name like a lullaby.” Dana winks. “Spill it.”  

You bag a head of romaine. “He’s…nice. Listens. That’s all.”  

“Uh‑huh. Well, when Jack starts smuggling in single‑origin Darjeeling, I’m cashing out.”  

Before you can reply, Dana’s niece launches a blueberry skyward; it splats harmlessly on Dana’s sleeve and she plucks it off, unfazed.

“Speaking of chaos—yesterday in The Pitt? One guy comes in with a nail‑gun through his boot and tries to livestream it. Robby has to confiscate the phone while Collins hunts for tetanus history. And—get this—one of the med‑students faints into the sharps bin. We’re calling him Porcupine now.”  

You laugh so hard you nearly drop your lettuce. “Porcupine! That’s savage, even for you.”  

“Pitt rules: if you pass out, you earn a nickname.” She scoops animal crackers into her niece’s hands. “Anyway, enjoy your day off. And remember, the house cut on the Abbot‑tea pool is twenty percent.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, pushing your cart. “But if you win, I’m taking half and buying enough loose‑leaf to convert the whole unit.”  

Dana salutes with a blueberry. “I’ll hold you to it, Jack‑whisperer.”  

You roll your eyes, but the name lingers sweet on your tongue as you both trundle toward the bakery—two nurses off‑duty, carts bumping, hearts lighter than any official chart will ever note.  

. . .  

By late afternoon you’re back in the apartment, juggling your against your ribs while your new lamp shines prettily near the entrance. You drop everything on the kitchen table and reach for your phone to tick “groceries” off the to‑do list—only to find three new notifications from the another strange number.

The previews are nonsense again—random consonants, stray emojis, one line that looks like Morse code smashed by a cat. You thumb through, equal parts annoyed and curious, until you hit the most recent message:  

Green suits you, pretty girl.  

A pulse hammers once, hard, in your throat.  

You set the phone down very carefully, as though it might explode, and listen—really listen—to the apartment. The fridge hums. Upstairs pipes clank. No footsteps, no voices, but suddenly every shadow feels occupied.  

Groceries forgotten, you sweep the place like you would on the trauma bay: bedroom closet first (just winter coats), bathroom cabinet (towels and aspirin), hall linen closet (sheets, vacuum hose), kitchen pantry (cereal boxes, nothing human). You kneel to peer under the bed, heart pounding like you sprinted stairs, then check every window lock twice, tugging to be sure.  

Finally you drag the spare dining chair across the floor and wedge its back under the doorknob—an old trick your grandmother swore by. It won’t stop a battering ram, but it buys time. Time feels like oxygen right now.  

Only then do you remember the milk on the counter, sweating through the carton. You shove perishables into the fridge on autopilot, not taking the care to arrange it like you usually would, hands trembling just enough to clink jars together. The phone stays facedown on the table, screen black, as though eye contact might invite more.  

Night falls, the apartment settles.

You brew the strongest sleep‑blend tea you own—valerian, chamomile, skullcap—and pour it into your largest mug. Scissors from the junk drawer go onto the vanity beside your bed, blades half‑open like a steel moth. Overreacting? Maybe. Under‑reacting because you haven’t called the police? Possibly. What you know is this: control is a ladder, and tonight every rung you can hold matters.  

You sip the smooth brew, crawl beneath the duvet, and stare at the ceiling until the tea’s heaviness drags your eyelids down. The phone is silenced, the chair braces the door, scissors glint in the street‑lamp glow. It isn’t much, but it’s a perimeter—thin, improvised, yours.  

You let the darkness take you, counting breaths, willing morning to hurry.

divider credit

You Know Where You Are 1/3

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Musician!Reader Angst/Established Relationship Part II | Part III

The Pitt Playlist located here The Pitt Masterlist

Synopsis: Dr. Robby's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day started before he even made it to PTMC. He was supposed to go to Pittfest to support his girlfriend's band with Jake, but decided to flake and give his ticket to Jake's girlfriend. You are less than thrilled with his lack of communication. Word Count: 965 Content Warning: Arguing; Reader is in her 30's A/N: This will be a three-parter.

“Why is an alarm going off?” You grumbled into Robby’s warm chest as the jingle from his phone repeated itself. Robby groaned as he reached over to the nightstand to turn it off. He was silent for a few beats, his other hand coming up to rub your back gently. “Mikey?”

“I’m goin’ in today.” He mumbled into the crown of your head. 

“You’re what?” Sitting up in a hurry, you pushed yourself off him, but kept your eyes pinpointed on his. Michael was looking anywhere else in the room but at you. “No. No, Mike! You said you weren’t going to do this.”

“I know.” He responded gently, his eyes breaking from yours. 

“You know.” Scoffing, you started to get off the bed, but was stopped by his hand gently grabbing your thigh, squeezing it in a way that told you he did not want this to get blown into an argument. Not today. “What about Jake? You can’t just ditch him.”

“Giving him my pass for his girlfriend. They’ll have a blast and apparently she’s a huge fan of you guys.” He tried to soften the blow. All it did was build the irritation that was growing inside of you. 

“And me?” Your question hung in the air.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Absolutely not.” Gently prying his hand off your leg, you stood and threw on some random clothes he had in the second drawer that housed various t-shirts, jeans and leggings that you’d left over time. “Genuinely don’t know what I was expecting.” You muttered under your breath as you pulled a t-shirt over your head.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He had the nerve to sound indignant.

“It means that I am a very reasonable person who rolls with the punches when it comes to you, but god forbid something on my end -pre planned well in advance, mind you- is important to me and it gets thrown by the wayside.”

“Today is-” You held up your hand to stop him. 

“-I know what today is.” Your voice took on a somber tone. “And I am so incredibly sorry that you have to carry this with you, Mike. I am. I love you and I support you wholeheartedly, but you obviously knew you were going to do this well before this morning and you chose not to tell me. A heads up is all that I’m asking for here.”

“Had I known missing this set was going to be a huge deal-”

“It’s not about the set!” Your voice rose. “I don’t care about the set, Mike! My life is set after set. I cared about spending time with you and Jake. The set is an hour out of my day. Both of us are stupidly busy people with demanding careers who don’t get to see a whole lot of each other outside of some quick takeout and going to bed -if we’re even in the same state!” It wasn’t meant to be a jab, but Robby felt it all the same. 

“You’ve never had a problem with me having to cancel for work.” His voice was starting to get an irritated tone to it, one that you knew he knew he was wrong, but was doubling down. 

“That’s not what this is!” You snapped, “I’m not mad because you get called in to work, Mike! You did this on purpose. They didn’t call you in, you are choosing to go in on a day that you already arranged to have off for no other reason than you won’t communicate!” He winced -you don’t communicate was repeated like a broken record through just about every failed relationship he had. “I don’t understand how you don’t see why I’m frustrated with this and, quite frankly, it’s pissing me off even more than I was to begin with because I can’t tell if you know what you’re doing or if this is just a defensive reflex!”

Grabbing your phone off the nightstand on your side, you sighed when you saw how early it actually was. Deciding that removing yourself from Mike’s townhouse was the best option so you could cool off without figuratively ripping his head from his body, you grabbed your purse off his dresser. 

“Where are you going?” Mike stood from the bed, pajama pants hanging low in his hips. There was clear panic in his eyes, but he couldn’t navigate himself out of the hole he had dug himself. 

“Back to my place.” You didn’t bother to untie your sneakers as you shoved your feet into them, pulling roughly until they popped on. 

“Come on,” He said your name softly, “-please just get back into bed-”

“Why?” You snapped, “You’re getting ready for work and I don’t have a reason to be here right now.” Mike winced, then inhaled deeply before nodding -not to agree with you, but to process the words that you just said to him. 

“You don’t need a reason to be here.” He was nearly begging. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from going off the deep end. 

“Fine, I don’t want to be here.” You ground out. And truthfully, you didn’t. Anger was a rarity coming from you -life happens- but this wasn’t “life happens”. This was “Robby happens” and when Robby happens...you shook your head. 

“You coming back here tonight?” He knew it was a long shot, but he asked anyway. 

“You know, Mike…” You shrugged, exasperated, arms swinging out from your sides, “-probably not.” Done with the conversation you left the bedroom, angry that this was how the day -a day that was supposed to be fun and a distraction from the shit Mike deals with- started in a fiery blaze. 

“Don’t-” Not bothering to hear his response as you fled through the townhouse, you let the door slam closed behind you. 

Part II

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possessive - jack abbot

a/n: so i have this scenario in my head but idk if i love it or hate it, it’s up to you at this point 😭 sorry for any misspellings, english is not my first language

pairing: jack abbot x f!pediatrician!reader

summary: jack abbot is a possessive man and we love that

warnings: dr abbot being hot, myrna being inconvenient as always, medical inaccuracies, let me know if i missed something (gif not mine i just find it here)

Possessive is a word referred to ownership or a relationship of belonging between one thing and another.

Is the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Jack Abbot was a possessive man.

Not an inconvenient possessive man. He was subtle. One hand at the end of your back. Picking you up at the end of your shift when he isn’t working. Talking to you with the softest voice. Sharing coffee or a granola bar he had in his pocket for you. The glances to other men when you’re walking by.

He had nothing to fear with you. You sleep and wake up with him every day. He knew exactly how to show someone that you belonged to him without saying a word. He hasn't put a ring on your finger and yet everybody in the ED understands you’re his girl and nobody was crazy to question him.

It was supposed to be your day off. You already made plans with Emery and Parker to go out for dinner and have some drinks like you do every month. That’s your way of gossiping and keeping the bond stronger, especially working at male dominated fields. Keeping the girls together makes the job easier and better. You were even planning to invite Samara to the next dinner.

The best thing about the trio was initially to piss Jack off and because you worked so well together and a friendship naturally bloomed - and thank god it did. The funniest, dirtiest and best conversations came out so easily between you that it was impossible to keep track of the actual dialogue topic when you combined.

Unfortunately your phone vibrated in your purse during dinner with a message from Robby letting you know there was an emergency of a child that fell and the parents were asking for you. These things were pretty normal in your routine when you work with pediatrics emergencies. In less than fifteen minutes you were walking towards the ED entrance like you weren't just discussing panties over drinks.

Worst part of it? You had no time to change your clothes. So you were standing at the nursing station with the most expensive Valentino dress you own, brand new shoes and your favorite coat to protect you from the cold.

The scrubs were a protocol when you’re working and you were not. You hated to work without them and hated even more that your backup scrubs were not in your car. Jack must’ve taken them to wash and didn’t put them back.

Jack didn’t see you coming and he had no idea of the dress you chose for your girls night. Bridget was already laughing when you entered, holding you something to cover up until you have to leave again. She quickly took your overcoat and gave you a white coat, which helped a little but not too much because of your heels clicking at the floor.

“Wow doc, didn’t know you could look that hot.” You heard Garcia teased and shook your head laughing. “You should show up like this more often, as an experiment of course.”

“I appreciate your words Yoyo. Maybe next time I'll show up with your favorite color.” She blew you a kiss and walked away laughing.

“He’s going to need to be sedated when he hears you’re in his ED looking like this” Robby chuckled when he found at the nursing station. “Sorry I've called you, they insisted on being you. They are barely letting Mel work there.’

“It’s fine, Robby. I don’t like my day off anyway.” You winked and went straight to the room they were in.

The child parents came running to you the moment you entered their plain sight. Dr. King was accompanying them before you arrived, describing the situation in detail and how she dealt with them. And for her face you knew how those parents weren’t easy to deal with.

“Dr (Y/L/N), this is Jamie, 10 month old, previously healthy, fell from the crib around 9 p.m.. According to the mother, he tried to pull himself up using the crib rails, lost his balance, and fell over the side of the crib, landing directly on the floor. He cried immediately for about fifteen minutes, with no loss of consciousness and no vomiting. The mother noted only mild bruises in the right frontotemporal region, with no other signs of trauma. He remained active, fed normally, and showed no changes in consciousness or behavior. “ You heard Mel's words with attention while examining the child.

“You ordered any exams, doctor King?” She nodded and passed you the chart to look at.”

“A CT, x-ray and some labs just to make sure everything is perfectly fine.” You nodded, shaking your head.

“Excellent.” You smiled at her and turned your attention to the parents.

“Does he cry when he moves? Has he had any seizures? Allergies or something we need to know?” They kept denying. “Why don’t you bring him early? It’s almost one in the morning.” The parents kept their silence and you shrugged your shoulders, looking at them. “Alright then. Doctor King will accompany you to the CT and the x-ray.”

Something you loved about yourself was the way you’re pretty centered and rigid about your job, especially working around and with children. Fighting with parents? You do every shift. Making the little ones laugh? You did it too. You were tough and nice but at the same time the children absolutely loved you. The most common thing to see was you holding a child mid shift and laughing about it with the nurses.

He was waiting for you at the nursing station. Coffee in hand. Jaws tighten when his eyes land on you. Eyebrows raised while he analyzed your shoes. You leaned closer to him, enough to look professional and only a little mischievous so he could smell your new perfume - the one he bought you.

“Hi there, doctor Abbot.” You touched his arm and smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Peds emergency, they have to call the best.”

“This is not workplace clothing.” His hand reached yours, quickly brushing your finger.

“I had a nice time at dinner, thanks for asking, by the way.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll go home when his exams are finished. I won’t even leave this spot.” You sit in the vague chair and cross your arms.

“Nice coat, actually.” Dr. Jack Abbot. It was his coat. “You should work with this more often since you don’t want to change your last name.”

Before you can even replied you heard Myrna screaming at the other side of the room.

“Nice ass, MacDreamy.” She pointed at you.

“Been working out lately, Myrna. Do you like it?” You teased her and she giggled.

“Watch out or I’ll steal your girl, Abbot. I killed a man before and I can do it again.”

When you turned to look at Jack again, he was serious. His forehead was tense and his knuckles white from holding his coffee mug. His hair was a little messy and there was some blood in his scrubs.

Hot. Really hot.

He didn’t care when your friends, female friends, flirted with you because he knew you flirted back joking. He respected your boundaries and you respected him too. You still find it pretty amusing how he gets all possessive over small things, lucky you he didn’t see the dress you were wearing underneath the white coat.

Vintage Valentino, sheer black chiffon, off-the-shoulder neckline with the fabric draped down the arms, creating a dramatic, sophisticated look. At the bust, a large central bow, asymmetrical and flowing skirt, with soft, layered fabric and a high front slit that reveals the left leg. Jack never complained or talked badly about your clothing, he actually enjoyed seeing you wearing the clothes you liked - he enjoyed taking off more. He describes being an extension of your personality.

“Want to talk about that dress?” He lifted up the white coat a little. “Showing legs and neck like crazy, hm?”

“Nope, we’re not doing this here. You’re working.”

“Why not? I thought you like showing off a little too much.” He crossed his arms and you sigh.

“Oh my God, is this foreplay?” His eyes locked on yours. “Fuck it, I’m into it.”

“Just stay here until the boy it’s back.” He stared at you for a few seconds and you tried to control your smile.

“Are you jealous, Abbot?” You heard Shen comment and buried your face in your hands. He just gave him the nastiest look you’ve ever seen in your life and you can tell he already gave you some looks at you in the bedroom.

The exams took a while to get ready and when they returned to the emergency room, you met them again holding a tablet to explain the situation to them. Immediately the little boy was already in your arms, resting his head over your shoulder.

“The CT and the x-ray both came normal, no injury or other systemic trauma. He’s safe and sound. If you notice something is different, bring him immediately.” You hold his little hand and smile brightly. “You’re lucky to be here today, Jamie.”

The parents asked a few questions about the exams and the therapy you chose for him and after they left you stayed inside the empty room for a while before you left to grab the rest of your stuff.

Jack was talking something with Robby when you approached them, taking off the white coat that belonged to your man and putting on your warm and cozy overcoat. His eyes went straight to your almost bare chest, he had to scan the room pretty quickly for perverts watching you. One drunk guy screamed that he wanted you to talk to him, Myrna said something about your ass again and this time Mel came in complementing your legs.

“You should be grateful you weren’t there when Emery and Parker saw me, you probably be in jail now.” He helped you close the buttons of your coat.

“Remind me to put a goddamn ring on your finger.” He whispered closer to you, making you burst out laughing.

“What a romantic proposal. I’m really emotional.” Jack rolled his eyes, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I already heard some jerks talking about you and I didn’t appreciate their tone.” You passed your arms around his shoulder - ignoring the PDA rule you established for work.

“Yeah, I’m still sleeping in your bed tho.” He agreed, laughing softly. “Gotta go now. Emery is waiting for me at Five Guys and I could kill for a burger now.”

“Be careful, beautiful.”

“Try to go home in one piece.” You squeezed his shoulder and winked before walking away.

When you arrived for your next shift there was a big diamond on your finger and the biggest smirk on Jack's face when people started to talk about it.

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

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

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

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

wc: 1.3k

next

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An eating disorder doctor? He snorts at your question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh Crap

Prologue of Unexpected

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Mitchell! Reader

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and Y/N "Starling" Mitchell have been childhood friends due to their dads, but since Maverick pulled both your papers you guys were pushed back 4 years. After 4 years, you guys finally got into the Naval Academy together. During their time in the Academy, they decide to become friends with benefits, but Y/N accidentally gets pregnant by Bradley. They agreed to raise their kid together as friends, but what happens when Bradley is stationed in Virginia and you are stationed in Lemoore? 

Series Warnings: accidental pregnancy, angst, fluff, there will be NO SMUT! (I suck at writing that)

Word Count: 1935

"Oh, crap."

You were in the Naval Academy restroom looking at the positive pregnancy test in your hands. How did this happen!? 

" Hey Y/N, are you okay?" Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, knocks on the bathroom stall door you were in.

"No, not at all." You open the door and show her the pregnancy test.

Showing her the pregnancy test, you see her face go wide. "Oh shoot Y/N. Does he know?" She asks not knowing who the father is.

"No, we were using protection." You explain to Phoenix. " I can't believe this is happening! We're graduating in a couple of weeks and I'm getting stationed in Lemoore. For Heaven's Sake, He's getting stationed in Virginia!!" 

"Getting stationed in Virginia? Is Rooster the father?!" 

Nodding yes to Phoenix, she was in disbelief and put her hands on her forehead. "My goodness, Y/N. How did this happen?"

You then explain to her how this happened. You and Bradley have been childhood friends due to your dad, but since your dad pulled both your papers you guys were sent back 4 years. After 4 years, you guys finally got into the Naval Academy together. Since you guys were pushed back 4 years, you were under a lot of stress. So you both decided to let off some steam and become Friends with Benefits.

"Hey, girls, class is about to start." You hear Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia calling you two outside of the woman's bathroom. 

"Okay, we'll be there," Phoenix yells to Fanboy. "Okay, we'll talk about this later. But you need to talk to Rooster as soon as possible." You nod yes as you both leave to go to class.

As you enter class, you see Bradley in his regular seat. " Good morning Y/N." 

"Hey, we need to talk later. It's really important." You say as you sit right next to you.

Later that Day

"Hey Y/N." You hear Bradley call you in the parking lot. "You said we needed to talk?"

"Oh yeah," You say nervously, becoming quiet.

"Okay, what is it?" Bradley asks. " You said it was important."

You take a deep breath before you start to speak. " I'm pregnant and you're the father. " 

Bradley stayed quiet, he was in utter shock. You were pregnant and he was the father. 

" Bradley. Tell me how you feel?" You ask your long-time best friend.

"This is a surprise. When did you find out?" He asks you.

"I found out this morning with Phoenix in the bathroom." You start explaining to Bradley. " I haven't been feeling good and then I remembered that my period hasn't come. So I bought a test and took it in the bathroom. It came out positive."

"Oh crap!" Bradley puts his hand on his forehead in frustration. "Are you sure you're pregnant?"

" I only took that test but I was about to go to the doctor on base to confirm it." 

He puts his hand on yours in comfort. " Okay, let's go and we'll go from there." 

Navy Clinic

" Y/N Mitchell, the doctor is ready to see you." A navy nurse calls you to go in.

You and Bradley walk to the navy nurse and she guides you to the exam room. She takes regular tests on you such as blood pressure, and heartbeat, and asks you questions about how you were feeling. Once she is done, she tells you that the doctor will see them when she is done with another patient.

"Are you going to keep it?" Bradley asks you while you two are waiting for the doctor.

" I want to keep it. If you don't want this baby, I'm not forcing you to stay." 

"No, I want this baby too. I know this happened because of our friends-with-benefits deal but I still want this baby." You're so grateful that he said he wants to be in this baby's life.

You hear a knock on the door. " May I come in?" You both respond yes and she opens the door. " Good afternoon you two. I'm Lieutenant Melissa Taylor and I'll be your doctor. So what are we here for ?"

"I've been feeling sick for a while and I thought I was getting sick. But then I remembered that I haven't had my period for a while. I took a test this morning and it came out positive. So I just want to make sure it wasn't a false positive." You explain to Lieutenant Doctor Melissa.

" Well let's take a pee sample and if it comes out positive we'll do an ultrasound to see how far you are." Doctor Melissa explains to you and you both nod.

Once the doctor leaves, the nurse from earlier comes back and gives you a cup to put your pee sample. She explains that when she gets your sample it takes 15 minutes to know your results.

You take the cup and head to the bathroom. Once you put your pee in the cup you give the sample to the nurse so you can get your results. After 15 minutes the Doctor comes back to the exam room and tells you the results.

" Congratulations Ms. Mitchell. You're Pregnant." Doctor Melissa congratulates you and Bradley. " Would you like to see the baby?" You look at Bradley and see him nod yes. 

Doctor Melissa calls the nurse to bring the ultrasound machine to the room, once it's set up the Doctor tells you to lie down. " Okay Ms. Mitchell I'm going to put this on your stomach and it's going to be cold." She warns you as she puts the gel on your stomach. It was cold for a bit until she moved the scanner on your stomach.

The Doctor points to the ultrasound screen to show the baby. "So this is your baby. They're about 12 weeks old. Since your last period was May 26 they'll be due in March." Doctor Melissa explains this to you and Bradley.

"When can we find out the gender?" You ask Doctor Melissa. She explains that on week 18 you can find out what gender the baby will be.

"Do you have any more questions?" The Doctor asks you both.

" Will Y/N be grounded until the baby is born?" You look at Bradley when he asks that question.

" Unfortunately, yes. Ms. Mitchell will have to be grounded until the baby is at least a year old." She answers Bradley's question with sympathy. "This won't affect her graduation status. She'll graduate when you guys graduate and then she'll be put on the base to do on-ground assignments."

Bradley was shocked, he felt guilty that you would be grounded for almost two years because of him. “Okay thank you. We’ll see you at the next appointment.” Once you thank Doctor Melissa, you and Bradley check out and go to your car. 

“Are you sure you want to keep this baby?” Bradley asks you politely not wanting to offend you. “You’re barely graduating and now you’re going to be grounded for almost two years Y/N!”

You gently place a hand on Bradley’s hand to comfort him. “I know what I’m getting myself into and honestly I’m fine with it. This job doesn’t give us the chance to get married or start a family. Your parents had you before your dad got into the Navy. Why can’t we do the same? I don’t want to be my dad and do it at the last minute.” 

Bringing up your dad brought up some resentment in Bradley. Growing up Maverick was in and out of the picture so that left you with your mom, Penny, and later with your half-sister Amelia. You also had Aunt Carole and Bradley growing up, but there was still a place in your heart for your dad. 

Your dad was the person that inspired you to go to the Navy. But one day that came crashing down when he decided not only to pull your papers but Bradley's too. You were pissed at first,  but when he told you the reason why he did it. You forgave him eventually. 

"Don't bring up Maverick. I'm still pissed off at what he did to us." Bradley says upset. He always does this to you whenever you talk about your dad.

" Well, no matter what, he is my dad and he'll be the grandfather of our child." You remind him. " I know that what he did to us still hurts you but I've forgiven him." 

"Are you going to tell him?" 

You take a deep breath before you answer him. "Yes. He's my dad and I want him in our child's life." As you say that your phone goes off, it was your dad calling. You look at Bradley and put your pointer finger on your mouth to tell him to be quiet.

"Hey, Sweetie. How are you? Hope I'm not bothering you." Your dad says as you answer the phone.

"I'm doing okay dad. Just hanging in there right before I graduate." You tell your dad. "How are you doing dad? It's kinda early over there in Okinawa." You question your dad.

Your dad was currently stationed in Okinawa. You two called every day at a reasonable time over there and in San Diego.

" It is. I took some time off so I can visit you." Maverick tells Y/N why he's calling her at this hour. "I know your graduation is in a couple of weeks but I want to spend time with You and hopefully Bradley."

You look out at Bradley and see that he's in utter disgust. " Oh, that sounds fun."

" How's Bradley by the way? I've been trying to reach out to him but it goes straight to voicemail." 

" He's doing fine. We're both tired and ready for graduation."  You say pretending to be exhausted.

" He's still mad at me isn't he?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's sensitive whenever I bring up something about you."  You tell your father the truth. You hear your dad sigh sadly, " I know it hurts but time will heal." 

In the background of the phone call, you hear an announcement go off. "Well Sweetie, it's time for me to board the plane. I'll be in San Diego tomorrow afternoon. Do you mind picking me up?" 

"I'll pick you up tomorrow and we can have dinner at my place. I'll even bring Bradley." You say out of nowhere and Bradley looks at you. "Bye, dad. Love you." You both say goodbye to each other and hang up the phone.

" ARE YOU CRAZY!?" Bradley asks you frantically. " I'm not going to that dinner."

" Oh yes, you are." You answer back at him. "Besides, my mom and Amelia will be there. You won't be alone."

"Why do I have to be there? Your mom and Amelia will be there!!" 

" We're going to tell them together about the baby." You tell him why you want him to be there. " I know you're still mad at him but can you at least get along with our child!?"

Bradley sees how upset you are at this. It must have hurt you that your best friend and your father weren't on speaking terms. " Fine but I'm only doing this for our child." You give him a thankful smile and say goodbye to him.

On your way home, you call your mom. You ask her if she and Amelia were available tomorrow for dinner with your dad. Thank God she said yes. Once you catch up with her, you both say your goodbyes and hang up.

Tomorrow is going to be a long dinner.

A/N: Sorry for the wait!! I was supposed to post this earlier today but I was spending time with family. Hope y'all like this!

Here's to be added to the taglist

Taglist: @topguncortez @one-sweet-gubler @carsgeek24 @theliterarybeldam @sandyys-posts @merakiaes @adoringsebstan @wishingtobeforeveryoung1019 @lilmonstrjedi

A/N 2: I'M FREAKING OUT THAT @topguncortez WAS THE FIRST PERSON THAT WANTED TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!!! I love your writing @topguncortez 🥹🫶

Sunset

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Ex!Red-Cross Nurse

Summary: Luciana, a highly experienced and tough nurse (ex-Red Cross) working in a busy ER, is haunted by traumatic memories from her past humanitarian work in a war zone. One day, during a shift, she is suddenly overwhelmed by flashbacks of a deadly battlefield, reliving the chaos, pain, and loss she witnessed, which causes her to have a panic attack. Thankfully, Jack is there to pull her back.

Warnings: PTSD, panic attacks, war, injuries. Luciana is Latina, so a few words are in Spanish. English is not my main language.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: it's been a while since I wrote something but I was inspired after watching the Pitt. Also, this is my first time writing in englsih, so forgive my grammar.

Hope you like it!!!

Gif de emziess

Sometimes, the noises are enough to drag her back—ironic because she works in a place where silence is a pipe dream. If she can’t stand the noise, she shouldn’t work in an ER, but she does and now has to pay the price.

This does not always happen; after all, she’s been in The Pitt for years. What dragged her to the past today was a combination of shouting and the wind hitting the doors. She was so concentrated on looking at the board, analyzing the patients while searching for an opportunity to clear more beds, that she was startled when the wind hit the glass door.

The only thing she can hear is her heart beating strongly and her rapid breaths, but her mind isn’t in the PItt anymore. She’s back in hell, the heat of an explosion surrounding her, making it hard to breathe, bullets everywhere, and the only thing she sees is blood.

Blood in her clothes, in the sand, in her body. 

Blood pouring from a soldier’s leg

“Stay with me!” she hears herself screaming. “Don’t close your eyes!”

She acted fast, making a tourniquet with her belt and using her shirt to bandage the wound. She needs to get him out of here. They were in the open in the middle of a battle between soldiers and terrorists, so she grabbed his arms and tried to ignore his screams while she dragged him to hide behind a vehicle.

“Where the hell is our backup?!” she screams to another soldier. They needed to get the hell out of there if she wanted to save the wounded. 

From a distance, another scream, a familiar one. Miles, a senior doctor, the one who recruited her was now dead. One second, he was helping a soldier, the next he was on the sand with a bullet hole between his eyes.

This was supposed to be another humanitarian mission, like the many others they did in the past; they weren’t even soldiers. They were sent to a small village to help the women and children, the military was just there for protection.

This was supposed to be an offer of peace, but it turned out to be a deadly trap, and she was in the middle of it.

Her body was on autopilot, she couldn't stop to cry over the deaths. There were lives still to be saved. From her pocket, she grabs gauze and uses it to keep the soldier alive. She prayed for the helicopter to arrive soon, the soldier needed surgery fast. The medic looked around, her eyes settling on one of the four soldiers who were still fighting, firing his gun with his right arm while his left was bleeding from a gunshot.

“Hey, you!” she shouted, “come over here!”

The soldier, not much older than her and definitely terrified, crawled faster to her side. When his eyes landed on the man on the ground, he paled.

“Fuck, that’s Abbot, our medic” the soldier, a latin boy she figured by his accent, said barely in a whisper but she managed to hear it.

“Well right now he’s my patient” she snapped, her patience running thin. “I need you to keep his leg elevated and hold pressure on the wound” she told him while looking for more bandages to cover that gunshot wound. But the soldier didn’t answer, his eyes still on Abbot’s leg - or the lack of it.

“Soldado!” She switched to spanish and finally the soldier looked at her. “Necesito que tengas elevada su pierna y hagas presión así puedo revisar tu herida. Can you do that?!”

He gave her a nod and moved quickly to help. The adrenaline was high for him as he didn’t feel the pain when the medic started to apply pressure on his arm. She used her last roll of bandage and prayed to be enough.

“Where’s our damn helicopter?” she asked again, finally getting an answer “Two minutes!”

Two minutes, one hundred and twenty seconds. A lot can happen in that time.

“Grenade!” someone shouts, and she drops to the ground, her body covering the army medic. An explosion steals the air from her lungs, and pain erupts from her side. Something hit her.

“Shit, Abbot!” the young soldier screams, grabbing the medics attention. She didn’t have time to assess the situation, see if any of them were hurt, or determine her own pain;  Abbot was pale as a ghost and wasn’t responding. She quickly pressed two fingers to his throat. There was no pulse

“La puta madre” she cursed and started compressions. “Don’t you dare to fucking die, ¡¿me escuchaste?!”

You are not allowed to give up.

There’s ringing in her ears, and her vision is dizzy, but she only stops to breathe in his mouth and resumes compressions again. That’s when the wind started, making it hard to see anything, but she didn’t stop CPR. They had already lost so much, and the idea of Abbot dying under her hands was a thought she couldn’t conceive. She looked around, searching for something that could help her. She cursed, when did she let go of her medic bag? How could she be so dumb to let go of the most important thing- there it was.

“Somebody fucking get me that bag!” she shouted, hoping to be heard. If she could grab the epi, maybe she could save him.

A hand is on her shoulder, and someone is talking to her.

L-

Luci-

“Luciana!” someone’s shaking her by the arms, and suddenly she isn’t in the desert anymore, fighting to save a life.

No sand surrounded her, just concrete, and the wind wasn’t from a helicopter. She’s back in Pittsburgh, on the rooftop of the hospital where she works. 

How did she get here? 

“Luciana, hey, look at me” A warm hand is on her cheek, guiding her face to the person in front of her.

Brown's eyes met their mirror, and the door guarding her soul was wide open, making her feel bare under his eyes. The thought of being so vulnerable increased the panic in her veins. She’s not used to showing her feelings, always maintaining a stoic face when it comes to her problems. Luciana made empathy her armor, prioritizing other’s problems over hers. That way, her trauma keeps being deep inside and her mind would never have the time to address it.

Luciana Suarez built her personality around being a strong woman who has seen it all and doesn’t shed a single tear about it. When her eyes met Abbot’s, her walls crumbled down into tiny pieces, and her facade no longer existed, making it all worse.

“I need you to breathe,” he instructed her, as he would to any other patient, at least that was what she told herself.

But air seemed like the wrong option when her lungs were burning like a forest in the middle of the summer.

“I - I can’t” It was an impossible task, how can she calm down when everything feels like a nightmare? Her eyes might be seeing Jack in front of her, but her body is still in hell.

Suddenly she felt something cold and her mind stopped. It was unexpected, for a moment all she could feel was the heat - imaginary but nonetheless. When her eyes looked for the source, her heart stopped. A hand she’d seen too many times doing impossible procedures, had grabbed her with such gentleness and placed it on something metal.

It was a prosthetic foot. His prosthetic foot.

“Feel this?” he asked “ I’m alive, we survived”

He wanted to tell her so many things. That his moments on this very roof aren’t a debate over suicide, on the contrary, he’s grateful he’s still breathing and it’s all because of her. Because she didn’t give up on him, she fought and brought him back to the land of living. Yes, he lost his leg but that would never be her fault. Thanks to this angel - as he usually calls her in his mind -, he got to live. Fifteen extra years and plenty of opportunities. 

If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have married his wife. He wouldn’t be alive to go home, marry Isabel, and live her last years with her. He wouldn’t have met his brother in everything but blood, Robby.

If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have this job that made him feel useful without putting his life in danger. He isn’t going to lie, some shifts still took a toll on him, where the death felt like a weight he was holding.  Some nights, he was Atlas holding the sky on his shoulders and that’s why he goes back to the roof. And when the sun rise again, she appears and suddenly, the weight isn’t as heavy as before: she’s holding the sky with him, together.

God, she was barely a child when she saved his lame ass. She was twenty years old, a prodigy child who graduated early and just wanted to be a doctor and do humanitarian work he discovered after waking up in a foreign hospital.

Definitely an angel.

As soon as he opened his eyes and learned the news - learned what he’d lost -, she visited him. In his pain, he was surprised: the person who saved him was a young girl… in a wheelchair. A bullet to her back, she had to be operated on twice to get the remains off or she could risk being paralyzed for life.

She was badly hurt while saving his life and she told him all that with a little smile. In the beginning, he hated that smile. How can she be fine after all that? He lost part of his leg and already felt like his life was ending - it took him a very long time, with the help of his therapist and his wife, to make peace with this new and broken body.

It took him a few years to realize she was broken too.

He hates to see his salvation hiding the pain behind a smile, hoping nobody would notice. But he did and did nothing about it: maybe it was because Luciana was too stubborn to accept help and he didn’t know how to act on these feelings. He remembered when he saw her again, a few years ago, when she started working at The Pitt. The world stopped but his heart started beating again after a long time. Regret filled his heart at his cowardice, guilt swimming in his heart. 

Jack let himself be used to toeing between the lines: between being colleagues and something more. He already has a soft spot for her, everyone knows it. Always praising her for her good work, or consolating her when the shift was being a nightmare. He even let his fingers graze her every now and then, a small act of selfishness for his heart. But that was it. When the opportunity of doing something else, of doing something more crossed his mind, he closed the door.

Oh how Jack wished to go back in time, but that was just a fantasy. So, in return, he vowed to not be that version of himself anymore.

A hand brushing the scar on her back made her open her eyes - she didn’t know when she closed them. It took her a few seconds to remember what was happening, her mind shut down when she met the cold of-

Jack

She lifted her gaze and there he was, still looking at her like he could read her mind and maybe he could as he managed to bring her back. 

“Hey”

“Hola” Jack speaking Spanish almost makes her smile again, and he relaxed slightly. “¿Estas bien?”

When did the wind stop?

Lu took a deep breath, something that felt impossible moments ago, and cleaned her tears with her hand. “A little peachy,” she said, giving him a small smile “Sorry you had to come”.  The hate of being a burden was burning her throat.

“Don’t” he interrupted her. “You are not a burden to me, Luciana”. How did he know? She swears every time his eyes found hers, he could read her mind.

She hid her face in his chest and strong arms involved her. She’s not used to opening up about her problems, even though her therapist told her plenty of times that she shouldn’t be embarrassed about her feelings.

She protected her heart because it was too big for her own sake: she felt too much about everything, a curse rather than a gift. That’s why she hid her true feelings, she doesn’t want to suffer.

Maybe that’s why she did nothing about her feelings for Jack. He would never hurt her, she knows that, but what if they weren’t ready? What if she was too much? She would never recover from the bleeding.

“Damm my heart” she murmured, still between his arms. Her hand was still on the prosthetic, the cold metal grounding her

“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself” he rests his chin on top of her head, his fingers running small circles on her scar.

“Jack, I got a panic attack from a little wind, don’t tell me that’s normal”

A hand on her cheek brought her back to the starring contest (when she loses every time).

“You have PTSD, just like I have. You told me plenty of times that there’s nothing wrong with that”.

It’s okay to be broken sometimes.

He hugged her again, knowing she still needed the contention. They stayed like that, feeling each other heartbeat while watching the sunset. That’s when she grabbed the courage.

“I was searching for a place like this”

“A rooftop?” that made her laugh and for Jack it felt like heaven.

“No, tonto. I mean in a metaphorical sense. I was looking for a place to finally wake up and be the full version of myself”

“And where’s that?” he asks, but his eyes are shining like he knows the answer.

“Here, between your arms” there, she finally said it.

“It was time you let me hold the weight with you” he placed a kiss on her forehead and that almost made her cry again “and I intend to do it for as long as you have me”.

“¿Y si digo para siempre?” she asked in her mother language, can’t help but feel a little insecure. She just asked him forever and they haven’t even-

“Then forever it is” and he kissed all her insecurities goodbye.

Look Out For Her

Summary: 4 years later and your almost done with residency. But it feels like your relationship with Jack may be coming to an end too. That is until you’re hurt and he has to come to your rescue, that he reveals his true feelings for you.

Warnings: Established relationship, implied age gap, strong language, sexual assault, mentions of alcohol, possessiveness, mostly fluff

This is possibly a Chapter 1!

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You were half way through your 4th and final year of ER residency. Somehow still learning the ropes of being cheif resident. It wasn’t easy to have the respect of your fellow co-residents and interns when you were in a relationship with Dr. Jack Abbott, an ER attending but, he made it worth it. Most of the time at least.

Getting to this point in your relationship wasn’t always easy in anyway. What started as hook ups, turned into arguements during every shift you worked together until you cut it off. But when 3rd year came around, you guys got close again, he let you in and you let him in.

A year and a half. In your mind, this was the start of forever. At least that’s what you thought.

For the past month, Abbotts been distant and you didn’t understand why. Picking up shifts on the days you were both off, date nights were becoming a rarity, bailing on nights out with your friends.

You had a week off coming up and wanted to see if you could make it up to him, for whatever you did even though you didn’t even know where to begin.

You moved in with him 6 months into the relationship. Everyone told you it was quick but, it felt like the right decision at the time.

You woke up early while he was still at work to go pick up breakfast from his favorite spot downtown. Got home made your famous homemade peanut butter cookies that he loved. Had his favorite movies lined up, ready to play. Even put on lingerie under your clothes, ready for whatever he wanted.

You heard keys in the door and were excited for him to see what was waiting for him.

There he was. Silver curls. Black scrubs. Go-bag over one shoulder. You could look at him forever.

“There’s my favorite guy.” You ran up to him to give him a hg and kiss.

He hugged you back but, swerved his head ever so slightly when you went in to kiss him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Just had a long night. Not really in the mood for anything.”

“I planned out quite the morning for us.” You smiled at him.

“Think I’m just gonna go hop in the shower then head to bed for a little bit.” He started to walk away.

You quickly turned around to him. “Okay, no, what is your problem? Did I do something? Cause for the past month you’ve been acting cold. Blowing me off ever chance you get.”

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face you. He looked pissed. You’d only ever seen him angry like that once during a stupid fight you guys had at the beginning of the relationship.

“You left your laptop open.”

“Okay and? I’m I supposed to know what that means?”

“Were you going to tell me that you have a bunch of interviews for attending jobs at other hospitals? Or were you just going to tell me you were leaving one day?”

“Jack everyone goes to multiple interviews. You literally did the same when you were in my position.”

“One of those is across the country.”, he paused, “Were you gonna pack up and fly over there without telling me?”

“Thought maybe you could come with me and we could make a trip out of it actually.”

He put his head in his hands. “Do you want to leave?” His voice cracked.

“What? Why would I want to leave you Jack? I literally have an interview with Robby in 2 weeks for a spot here. I’m just trying to see what else is out there too.”

“But you have everything you could need right here! Why do you wanna give it all up!He raised his voice at you.”

You took a step back.

“Don’t yell at me.” You felt your breathing become faster, chest heavy.

“Why would you not tell me? This is something we should be talking about together. This isn’t just about you.”

“And it’s not just about you. It’s my future Jack. My career we’re talking about.” You said sternly.

“So where do I fit into that future then?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “You know I love you.”

“I sense a but coming here.”

You took a deep breath. “But there’s an emergency medicine research fellowship in California. They’re really interested in me Jack. Like really interested.”

“Sounds like you made up your mind already.” He walked away and went into the bedroom.

“Jack please. I didn’t say yes to anything yet. I still have to go over there and meet with them. I might end up hating it.”

He was throwing clothes into his go-bag. You grabbed his arm and he swiftly pulled away.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Where are you even going?”

He held both hands up in the air. “I just need some air.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know. I- I just can’t do this with you right now.”

“So if not now, then when. Jack. Come on we talked about this. Never leave mad at each other.”

“I’m not mad.”, he looked down at you, “Just disappointed.”

He grabbed his bag and walked out of the room. You felt the tears start to run down your face.

“Jack please.” You begged.

You heard him pick his keys up off the table and door slam closed behind him.

You broke. Tears streaming down your face. You sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. Your reached into your pocket for your phone and tried to call him.

Once. Twice. Three times with no answer. Straight to voicemail.

You laid in bed, crying. Eyes already swelling. After went felt like an eternity, you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of a text message.

Please be Jack.

It wasn’t. Just Langdon.

He knew you were planning Jacks favorites for the morning and wanted to know how it went. You typed out as much of what just happened as you could. He called immediately.

He could hear you crying again.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

“Frank, I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where he went. He turned his location off. He won’t answer my calls or texts. I just wanna know that he’s okay.” You voice broke as you tried to get the words out.

“Hey look I’m just gonna come over okay?” Gimme like 20 minutes, I’ll be right there. Please just hold on.”

“Okay.” He hung up.

You got out of bed and threw on one of Jacks sweaters. Beers of the Burgh. Him and Robby went together every year. You hated beer so you never went, just let them have their special guy time.

You went into the bathroom and saw how bloodshot your eyes had become. Splashed some water on your face and went into the living room.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later. A knock on your front door. Langdon.

You opened the door.

“Hey kid.” He always called you could since the first day you met even though he was only 4 years older.

Tears again. You almost fell to the floor. He caught you and lifted you up.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you.”

He walked you into the kitchen, had you sit at one of the bar stools and went to get you a glass of water. He knew his way around. Afterall he did help you move in and came over often for movie nights when Jack was at work.

You spent the next hour trying to explain what happened. Talking. Crying. He listened to it all.

“Have you tried to call him again?”

You sniffled. “No, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I can’t make him.”

“He has to come back eventually you know?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You wiped your eyes onto your sleeve.

“Hey, me and some of the others from work were gonna go out later for some drinks downtown. Probably do some bar hopping. Maybe you should come? Get your mind off of things for a little bit?”

“What if he comes back and I’m not here?”

“Maybe that’d be for the best. Think you both need some time to cool off.”

You agreed. “Yeah sure why the hell not. He never wants to come out with me anyway.”

“Alright, go get ready then.”

“It’s early.”

“Its 5:30 and you definitely take forever to get ready. Plus you gotta unpuff your eyes.”

You quickly turned to the clock on the kitchen wall. Shit, how long were you asleep for? How long was he gone for?

“Okay alright then. Are you gonna stay here?”

“Yeah I’ll just watch some tv or something while you get ready. I’ll drive us.”

You went into the bedroom, scavenging the closet for something to wear. Red dress. Jack picked it out one day when you two were at the mall a couple months ago. You hadn’t worn it yet. You were waiting until he finally decided to go out-out with you. Which obviously never came.

You grabbed the dress, his favorite matching bra and pantie set and went to shower. There was a part of you that wanted him to come home to see you. But at the same time you just wanted to forget about all that happened just a few hours earlier.

Out the shower. Quickly dried your hair. Threw some light curls in it. Jacks favorite hairstyle on you. You didn’t like makeup but, put some mascara and lipgloss on anyway.

You walked into the bedroom to grab your little black heels. And walked back out into the kitchen.

Langdon was laying on your couch on his phone.

“Ugh, told you you were gonna take forever. It’s time to go, everyone’s of there way to the first place.” He sat up and turned around. “Damn kid, you clean up nice.”

“Well thanks Frank.” You gave him a side eye.

“You hoping to run into him tonight or something?”

“I- don’t know, it’s just that he picked this outfit out so, I don’t know maybe I guess.”

It’s almost as if Jack knew you were talking about him. Keys jingled in the door. It’s him.

He opened the door to see you standing there in the dress he picked out.

You both stared at each other while Langdon looked back and forth, unsure if he should leave you two alone.

“You look good. Really good.” He scanned you top to bottom.

Your heart was about to jump out of your chest. “Thanks.”

You turned towards Langdon, “We gotta go.”

“Yeah sure.” He jumped up and walked towards the door. He stopped in front of Jack.

“Gimme a second with her.”

Langdon shook his head and walked passed Jack and out into the hallway.

“Can we talk?”

“Now’s clearly not the time.” You walked into the bedroom, grabbed his sweater off the bed and walked out. “I have places to be.”

“Where exactly are you going anyway?”

“Why does it matter to you? I didn’t know where you were all damn day.”

“I was at the park. The park I asked you to be my girlfriend in.”

“You just sat there in your scrubs all day?”

He looked down at his clothes. “I’m actually going back in tonight for a shift.”

You scoffed. “Typical. Anything to avoid me huh?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m clearly not Jack. Please just let me through.”

“Just be safe. Okay?” He stepped out of the doorway and out of your way.

“Always.” And you left.

Langdon was waiting in the hall for you. You walked right passed him.

“Hey.” He stopped Langdon. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” And with that you were both on your way.

At the first bar you met up with other coworkers. Nurses, coresidents, EMTs. And apparently more people were on the way.

“Didn’t realize how many people were coming tonight?” You yelled over the music.

“Yeah me either.” Shrugged Langdon.

After the first 2 drinks and tequila shot, you realized you had ate all day. And you can’t handle your liquor.

You sat alone at the bar sipping water, looking down at your phone lock screen. A picture of you and Jack at a concert together, happy. He wasn’t into live music but, if it were for you, he’d listen to anything.

“Boyfriend couldn’t make it?”said the bartender nodding down at your phone.

“Yeah something like that.”

“That’s his problem. You look good.”

You smiled. Langdon came up behind you.

“Hey we’re heading across the street. Heard it’s 90s music night over there.”

You got up and went with the group. Thought you’d feel better by now. That you’d be able to distract yourself by talking to everyone, drinking, and listening to the music while dancing. It wasn’t working well.

Here you had 2 more drinks. 2 more shots.

Onto the next bar.

By this time, well over a a dozen people were apart of the group.

Fourth bar. More drinks. More shots. And you could feel it. But the more you drank the more you thought about him.

You went to sit at the bar alone. You checked you phone to see that he turned his location back on. The hospital, of course.

One the nurses came up to you. “Come on girl! Let’s go dance!”

“Yeah I’ll be right there.”

No texts or calls from him.

You took a deep breath and another sip of water. As you got up, you saw a guy watching you from the corner of the room. He winked and nodded his head at you. You politely smiled and went to your friends.

No matter what, Jack wouldn’t leave your mind.

There he was. The guy watching you across the room.

“Hey baby, looking good tonight.”

“Haha, thanks.” You were uncomfortable with how close he was to your face but didn’t want any problems.

“You got a man?”

“Yeah I do a actually.”

He scanned the room. “Guess he’s not here tonight huh?”

“He couldn’t make it. Working.”

“Well that’s his loss.”

Langdon spotted you across the dance floor.

“Hey, you gotta go see Donnie playing darts. It’s crazy!”

“Yeah sure.” You turned to the stranger and half waved goodbye.

“See you later.” He winked at you.

“Who the hell was that?”

“No idea.”

“Come on, stay close.”

“What about the darts?”

“They don’t even have darts here.”

It was now 1AM. You head pounding. Each room spinning. One last bar. One more drink. You lost count.

“Come on, one more tequila shot girl!”

“Yeah sure whatever.” You took it hoping the alcohol would down the feelings out of you.

Everyone was dancing, having a good time. You just wanted to be in Jacks arms, in your bed, in the apartment you had shared for over a year.

You looked over at a couple of your friends. “I’ll be right back.” Those who heard you nodded their heads.

You went outside. Alone. Still carrying Jakcs sweater, you decided to put it on. Not zipping it up but, just wrapping it around your body. You stood up against the wall on the side of the bar. Out of view.

Took out your phone. Stared. And finally dialed Jack’s number. No answer. Try one more time. Nothing.

But the thrid time you left a voicemail.

“Jack, it’s me. Um you probably knew that already, you know caller ID and everything. B-but,” your words one slipping into another, “I think I just want to say I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you about leaving. I’m stupid I know. But I love you. I always have. I- always will. I don’t want to leave you. Ever. You’re it for me Jack Abbott. I don’t want anyone else, or anything else. You’re the person I’ve been looking for my whole life. You make me a better person. I want you forever. Please just pick up the god damn phone. I need to hear your voice,”

You heard the bar door open behind you. The music rushed out into the street before becoming quiet again.

The stranger. Back again.

“Hey you get lost out here?”

“Jack I gotta go, I’ll see you soon.” You hung up.

“Not lost, just needed some air.”

“Yeah, yeah. It can get so hot in there.” He stepped closer to your body. “You know when I said you looked good tonight, baby I meant it.” He licked his lips.

“Thanks again.” You tried to step around him to go back inside.

He blocked you.

“Where you rushing off to? Not like your man is here to take care of you.”

“I gotta get back to my friends.”

“It’s okay I can take care of you out here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your body now pressed against his. Heart pounding in your ears. He grabbed your waist with his other had before reaching down to cup your ass.

You tried to pull away. But his grip was tight. He pushed you against the cold brick wall, pinning you body with his. One hand on your waist. The other holding your arm against the wall. Scraping the skin on the back of your arm right off.

He leaned down into your ear. “Come on sweetheart. I can treat you better then he can.” His hand sliding to meet the bottom of that red dress. “I’ll show you want a real man looks like.” You felt his cold hand on your thigh.

This can’t be happening. Not like this. Not right in front of the bar. Where is everybody? Langdon? Oh god, where’s Jack?

All the thoughts ran through your head.

He kissed your cheek. You flinched.

“Damn sweetheart, wanna play hard to get I see. I can play along with that.”

He let go of your arm. He started to reach for your neck.

You pushed him. Hard. He stumbled back.

“You dumb bitch. You’re gonna have to pay for that.” He took a step towards you.

Pain. Throbbing pain was the next thing you remembered. Then blood. Yours? Or his?

Both.

You punched him. Right in the face.

You used to kickbox not long ago. Guess you still remember how to swing.

“Fucking bitch.”

You screamed. Loud. Loud enough for the security guards to hear you inside the bar. They came running around the corner.

Blood was pouring out of his crooked nose. Blood dripping down your arm from your knuckles.

One security guard grabbed him. “Guess you met you match huh? Come on, got some cops that are gonna love your ass.” He took him away.

“You alright? Come on let’s get you inside and get that cleaned up.” He walked you inside.

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Jack got your voicemail. Almost right after you hung up. He tried to call you back. No answer.

So he called Langdon, who was still inside the bar.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Langdon was drunk.

“Dude I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here.”

“Yeah well you should be here! It’s a great time!”

“Where is she?”

“You gotta be more specific broo”

“My girlfriend. You know the one you’re supposed to be looking out for. She called me. Left a voicemail actually. Sounded like she was talking to someone. Then hung up. Where is she?”

Langdon scanned the room. “Uh I don’t know man.”

“Can you go find her please? She sounded drunk , almost as drunk as you. I’m worried. She doesn’t handle her liquor well.”

“Yeah man, I gotchu, I’ll go find her.”

“Alright call me when you find her. I wanna talk to her.”

“Aye aye captain.”

And Langdon hung up.

He walked around the room. Asking anyone and everyone if they had seen you. No one knew where you went.

That was until you walked back in with security.

———————————————————————

Everyone immediately saw you.

Red dress with blood down the side. Blood running down your forearm. Knuckles bruised and swollen already.

You heard a murmur of “what the fucks” and “oh shits”

Langdon came running over almost immediately sobering him up seeing you like that.

“What the fuck happened?!” He reached to grab your blooded fist.

You winced in pain. Mascara running down you face. “The guy from the other bar.” Yo could barely get the words out.

He looked over your shoulder and saw the guy standing outside with security and blood running down his face.

“Oh I’m gonna go kick his ass!” He tried to get passed you.

“No, no, Langdon, stop, the police are already coming.”

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna break his nose some more.”

“Please, just go get me some ice.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“Ice, Frank, please.”

He went up to the bar for your ice. You could see the police lights shining through the window.

3 police cars. 6 police officers.

You told everyone to stay inside while you went to talk to them. Langdon begged to go with you so you gave in and let him.

At this point, the guy was already sitting in the back of one of their cars. Hands cuffed behind his back.

You told them exactly what happened as you held the ice pack against your knuckles.

Langdons eyes teared up hearing what happened. He was supposed to protect you.

“You wanna press charges?” said one of the officers.

“Of fucking course she does.” Said Langdon.

“I need to hear it from her.”

You shook your head yes.

“You can either come to the station now. Or you can come in the morning.”

“What she needs is to go to the hospital. The hand is broken. Definitely in multiple places.”

“No, it’s not, I’m fine.”

“I’m literally a doctor, how are you gonna tell me it’s not broken? Have you not looked at your own hand?”

You took the ice off. Your hand was basically twice its original size. Fuck. He was right.

“Well that guy wants to go to the hospital too. Can’t take y’all to the same place so where you wanna go so we can send him somewhere else?”

“Can you take me to Pittsburgh Trauma?”

“Yeah let’s go.” You gestured to the police cruiser and opened up the door for you.

“Can I come with?” Langdon asked him.

“Absolutely not. Get a ride or call an Uber. You’re drunk. Drive yourself and I’ll have you arrested.”

“I’ll be right there, okay? I promise you.”

He went back inside the bar.

———————————————————————

All you could think about on the ride there was Jack. How he had to see you like this.

You finally checked your cellphone.

5 unread texts messages. 7 missed phone calls. And one voicemail. All from him.

You presssed play.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you probably don’t wanna hear from me right now and even if you do it’s just the alcohol talking. But look, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. I guess I’m just scared. I don’t want you to go. I can’t afford to lose you. Of course I want you to pursue whatever career opportunities you want, but I don’t think I can live without you. You make me want to be a better man. You make everyone around here better. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want to marry you. Have a family with you. All here, all in Pittsburgh. I want whatever you’ll give me. I- I just need to to stay. Please. Look I gotta get back to work but call me back when you get this okay? Love you babygirl. See you soon.”

You didn’t know if your tears where from the throbbing pain shooting down your arm or from his words.

You got to the ambulance bay. You swung your legs out of the car. Feet killing you from the heels. The officer helped you out of the car and walked you inside barefoot.

One of your coresidents spotted you.

“What the fuck? Do I even want to know what happened here?”

“Get Jack, please.” You said practically begging.

You waited for what felt like an eternity from him to find Jack in a patients room.

“This better be important. I was in the middle of something.” Jack snapped his off into the trash.

He looked up and his eyes caught yours.

“What the fu-“ he ran over to you.

He grabbed your arm as you winced and pulled back in pain.

“Babygirl what happened to you?” He leaned down to look into your eyes.

You broke. Immediately tears poured down your face.

“Come here, come here. I got you, you’re alright. No one gonna hurt you. You’re safe with me here.”

He held you in his arms while caressing your hair. The smell of alcohol of your breath obvious. “Come on, let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around you and walked you into a room and sat you down on the bed.

Your coresident ran to get all the supplies needed to clean and bandage you up.

“Get the hell out. I got this. Close the door of your way out.”

It was now just the two of you. Alone.

“Babygirl I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there with you. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

He started to clean the now dry blood off of you.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Do you wanna tell me how this happened?”

So you told him all of it. Every single detail.

“I’m gonna find that motherfucker, I swear to god. I’m gonna break his fucking kneecaps.”

“Jack, calm down.”

“No, he hurt you. I’m gonna hurt him.”

“His nose is already broken Jack.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He’s gonna get way worse than that from me.”

“Jack.” He kept cleaning your hand.

“Jack look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head until his eyes met yours.

“I’m gonna press charges. Whichever ones I can. I want them all.”

There was a knock of the door. One of the favorite night shift nurses.

“Hey sweetie brought you a fresh pair of scrubs and our finest grippy socks. X-rays ready for you. Just come out to the hall when your ready darling.”

“Thank you.”

“You need me to help you?”

“I can get dressed myself. You have other patients anyway.”

“Those patients don’t matter to me. You’re the only one I care about here.”

“Can I just have a minute alone Jack?”

He left you to change.you looked at your fist for the first time since you got to the hospital. Looked slightly better without all the blood.

You went into the hall and the nurse walked you down to xray as Jack waited by your room. Thank god the pain meds kicked in with the alcohol because you could barely open your hand.

As you walked back, you heard yelling.

“You were supposed to be fucking watching her! Not getting filthy fucking drunk and letting her wonder off alone!” Jack was throwing his hands in the air.

Langdon stepped up to his face. “I shouldn’t have to watch her for you. You’re here fucking boyfriend. You should’ve been there yourself. Or better yet, she should’ve wanted to stay at home with you!”

“You think you can judge my relationship? Last time I checked I’m not the one in the middle of a divorce and custody battle.”

“Jack!” You yelled down the hall. “Don’t.”

You walked over and pushed him into your room.

“Frank, I don’t blame you for any of this. I need you to know that.”

“No, he’s right, I should’ve been keeping my eyes on you. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did happen. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. I’m not a kid, you don’t need to keep me on a leash. I shouldn’t have gone out there alone. No ones here to blame except the man who did this okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You hugged him and walked back into your room.

Jack was pacing back and forth.

“I’m okay Jack. You can calm down.”

Another knock on the door. “X-rays are up.”

He walked over to the computer to open them up.

“What do you see?”

“Boxers fracture.” You pointed to the obvious gap between your bones.

“Gotta go get ortho to come set it in place.”

“Can you just do it?”

“I’ve hurt you enough tonight.”

He left and came back with an ortho resident who reset your hand and put it in a brace. “Gonna need another xray in 3 weeks to see how it’s healing. In the meantime just rest, ice and elevate. You got a lot of swelling so take it easy please.”

Just you and Jack alone again.

“Jack can we talk about what you said?”

“Which part?”

“On the phone. Your voicemail.”

He knew exactly which part you were referring to but, wanted you to say it.

“The part where I said I want you to stay?”

You shook your head no.

“Then which part?”

“The part where you said you that you want to marry me. Have kids with me. Build a life with me here.”

“I meant it all. Every last part.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m going to cancel all the other interviews. I wanna stay here. With you.”

“You don’t need to do that for me. This is your career we’re talking about here. You can’t give up these opportunities. They won’t come around again.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for us. Jack you’re more important than some job. This all means a lot to me but, it won’t mean anything if I can’t come home to you every night for the rest of my life.”

He leaned in a kissed you passionately. He pulled away and looked softly into your eyes.

“So Jack Abbott wants to marry me huh?” You said jokingly.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna pull out a ring right now or anything. You gotta finish your residency first babygirl.”

“Well now I’ll be expecting a ring the day after I’m done.”

“Guess I better start working on that. But for now let’s get you and that broken hand home.”

“Your shift isn’t over for another 3 hours?”

“They’re gonna cover for me. Gotta get my lady home.”

The drive home was pretty silent. He just put your favorite Radiohead album on for you. He helped you out of his truck and lead you upstairs.

He helped you pick out your favorite pajamas and you went to take another shower. Forgot you had been wearing his favorite matching set under the dress when you left. Thought the night would be ending differently for you two.

Of course you were glad that you were on good terms now. But when he put his hand on your back as you were leaving the hospital, you flinched. And he definitely noticed.

Once the booze started to wear off, you started to realize the extent of what happening to you tonight.

You cried again in the shower. Used the hot water to wash away your tears for you. Put some drops in your eyes to hide the redness.

You took a deep breath before walking out to him in the kitchen. He was holding up the breakfast bagel you bought him that morning.

“Didn’t even see that you bought these.”

“You could always just eat it now if you want. Think I’m just gonna head to bed if that’s alright.”

He open the fridge and put the bagel back inside. “Yeah let’s go. I’m just gonna jump in the shower real quick.”

You climbed into bed. Curled yourself into a ball, facing away from where he would be laying. You were holding back tears. You wanted to be strong for him. There’s was already so much going on in your lives. The last thing he needed was to be worried about you more than he already was.

You head the bathroom door open and his footsteps coming closer. You closed you eyes and preteded to be asleep.

He peeked over to see you. Eyes closed. You felt as he crawled quietly into the bed to face you.

“Hey I know you’re not sleeping. We’ve been in the same bed for almost 2 years now. You never fall asleep that fast.”

You let out a cry.

“Hey, come here. What’s wrong?” He put his hand on your back and you squirmed away as fast as you possibly could.

“I-I’m sorry”, you whimpered out.

“Can you look at me?”

You wiped the tears flowing down your cheek and rolled over to face him.

“You wanna talk about it yet?” He knew there was more going through your mind.

You shook your head. “I need you to hold me. Bu-but I’m scared for you to touch me. It’s not you, I- I don’t know what wrong with me right now. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault, okay?”

You sat up, “Can you just put your arm out?”

“Like this?” He put right arm straight out.

You laid down so that his arm was between your head and shoulder.

“Wrap your arms around me, please Jack.”

He brought you as close as you could get to him. You cried into his chest.

“I got you, I got you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again alright?”

You nodded and lifted you head up. He wiped away your tears.

“I love you so much babygirl. So much.”

“I love you too.” You laid back down into his chest.

Jack was wrong you could fall asleep fast. But only when you were in his arms.

Things were gonna be different from now on. Cause you ever trust anyone to put their hands on you again?

———————————————————————

Probably gonna end up making this a short series! Maybe just one more part! Let know what you guys think!

Call Sign: Half Caff : Part One

(Alright I’m new to writing please don’t judge me. I HAD to start writing because of The Pitt. Mild spoilers if you haven’t finished the show)

TW: reader is attacked at the end. I had to make it dramatic sorry.

She’s putting almost all of her focus into refilling her coffee mug, she hardly notices him entering the small cafe. It isn’t until he plops his travel mug onto the counter before her that she looks up from staring at the precious coffee falling into her mug. She raises an eyebrow at him as she sets her mug down and holds her hand out for his.

“Evening Half Caff.” He smirks, using his call sign for her. Her short stature and reliance on caffeine had only caused him to double down on the nickname. When she had first protested it.

She only grunts as she fills his mug from the coffee pot sitting on the edge of the counter. She hands it off to him as she grabs a tray of various baked goods sitting on top of the espresso machine and he follows her as she moves to set them up at the folding table that’s dragged out for these meetings.

Every Thursday night the local coffee shop closes its doors to customers and opens it for the local Veteran’s Affair office. One a week, veterans of all ages and branches gather. Part of the night is devoted to mingling, friends old and new talking about their week. The second part of the night has a darker hue. Chairs are dragged to the middle of the shop and set up in a circle. It reminds y/n of an alcoholics anonymous meeting: everyone sharing the tragedies they’ve witnessed, the fellow comrades they’ve lost both overseas and at home, and the struggle of integrating back into civilian life after having been in some of the toughest conditions the world has to offer.

It’s how her and Jack met. Not that she’d ever seen combat or boot camp. Not in terms of military service at least. After struggling with her mental health, her therapist had recommended volunteer work, something routine and low stakes that wasn’t another job. She’d offered to donate her time to her local coffee shop, setting up and taking down for group activities twice a week. A book club on Tuesdays, and the veteran meetings on Thursdays. She’d often help set up and take down for special events the café held; like when the middle school’s theater club had asked to borrow the space for brainstorming set design.

Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at her, noting her usual cheery appearance gone and replaced with sharp sarcasm and deflection.

“Not enough caffeine?” He asks her, noting her usual grace being replaced with something that resembles stomping.

“You’ve got another one tonight. Blue sweatshirt on your six.” She nods over to where a newcomer has caught one of the older vets in conversation.

“Oh no. That’ll be the third one this month.” Jack groans as he notices the cocky behavior of the kid who must only be twenty. His army buzz haircut still fresh. He leans against the wall next to the table. Trying to hide his smirk behind his cup as she continues to grumble while setting out more muffins and scones next to the containers of coffee.

They referred to these kind of people as “OMBs” or ‘one-month babies’. These individuals got the wrong idea of war from obsessing over army video games as young kids and teenagers. Often coming from heavy right leaning families, these individuals joined the numerous branches of armed service not to serve their country, but to fuel their ego. These meetings had been hosts to numerous individuals who were more upset that they hadn’t had the chance to shoot someone, than they were over the small stipend they received once back on US soil.

“How bad?” Jack said, turning to her as she braces her hands on the table. She winces and sighs.

“Three weeks on a German base as custodial. I think boot camp has been the hardest thing he’s been through.” She turns and crosses her arms, glaring at the back of the kid.

“So, nothing compared to the rest of these guys.” He smiles and raises his coffee mug as a familiar army buddy of his passes to grab a seat.

“Oh, my fucking god.” She hisses though gritted teeth. Jack winces as he watches the kid toss a muffin wrapper on the floor as he continues talking, the two vets he’s dragged into conversation raise their eyebrows and share a look.

“Damn, if I didn’t work, I’d take you to dinner tonight to make up for his bullshit.” She laughs at his joke. They’ve made this joke for months; often joking about getting dinner after the meetings despite Jack working the nightshift at the hospital just down the road. Y/n gives him a once over, secretly enjoying the way Jack’s black scrubs look, his white badge a stark contrast to the rest of his outfit.

“Hit him with the one two guilt trip.” She all but sneers, causing Jack to laugh into his mug. He holds it out and she refills it.

“That bad huh?” He turns to her with a smile, she smirks up at him.

“He called me ‘coffee girl’. If you don’t take it off, I’m ripping it off and throwing it at him after a fat knuckle sandwich.”

“Alright easy Half Caff, go read your book behind the register and I’ll see what I can do.” He bumps her with his shoulder as he shoots her a smile and makes his way to gather with everyone else in the middle of the dining area.

The meeting starts as they usually do. Jeremy, a navy veteran who did two tours, opens the conversation with his usual story. How he lost three of his friends overseas to violence, and one here in the states as they succumbed to their PTSD and trauma.

Jack shoots a look over to y/n behind the register as the new kid, Ben, immediately starts a rant about how more violence is needed. Jack starts to see red as Ben goes on about using violence to thwart foreign governments and the need for additional troops to bring down resistance to US soldiers. 

Jack leans forward in his chair, rubbing at his calf. He interrupts Ben, “What’s the worst thing you saw while over there in Germany?” He doesn’t look up to see Ben’s reaction as he rolls his pant leg up slowly.

When he’s met with silence he looks up and finds the new kid staring at his leg as Jack slowly removes his prosthetic. He massages the spot where his mid-calf and the prosthetic rub, an irritant he knows will never go away. The new kid only opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

“That bad huh?” Jeremy says, covering a small laugh with a cough as he catches on to what Jack is doing. Ben clears his throat and looks away as Jack replaces the prosthetic, offering the kid a small smile. Another vet launches into a story on his struggles reintegrating into civilian life, having only been back from Iraq for two weeks. 

Jack glances back to the register where y/n offers a small smirk and mouths ‘thank you’ to him, he nods. He’s thankful for her, not many civilians understand the struggles of coming back, of facing the music. She’s dealt with OMBs almost as much as he has, something he struggles to accept. He often brings these individuals up to his therapist. How can someone who got so lucky in their overseas assignment get so angry they didn’t see the true horrors of war?

The meeting wraps up and he stands to stretch his back. He makes his way back to y/n for one last top off on his coffee mug. She fills his mug over the register and smiles.

“Be safe Lance Corporal.” She says with a smirk, he smiles. She often throws out whatever army rank she can remember when referring to him. Something he’s sure is payback for her Half Caff nickname. Something he considers her callsign.

“Always am Half Caff. See you next Thursday.” He secures the lid on his travel mug and raises it in thanks. He leaves the café and turns right, making his way towards the hospital to relieve the day shift workers.

She chuckles and shakes her head as he leaves. She begins to busy herself with clean up, gladly accepting help from Jeremy as she and the café owner, GiGi, start to put everything back into its rightful place.

Sometime later, the café is back to normal, chairs and tables back to their places, dishes washed, and coffee mugs stacked neatly and ready for the following morning rush.

“Can you grab the trash? I’ll take out the recycling in a bit before I lock up.” GiGi says, sweeping her hair out of her face as she jots down notes for the morning crew.

“On it!” Y/n calls as she grabs one of the bags and swings the other over her shoulder, backing into the back room to toss the garbage out into the dumpsters of the back alley. 

She’s too busy making a to-do list in her head to see it coming. She tosses one bag into the open dumpster from the top of the small staircase and is about to throw the other when she’s grabbed from behind and wrenched into the guardrails.

She groans as she’s thrown down the rest of the stairs, a well-aimed punch lands on her jaw, and she sees white as the pain burns through her body. She’s so out of it she barely feels the two kicks bash her ribs in, her breath becoming ragged.

She gasps on the ground, gravel digging into her side and cutting her face. Her vision swims as she sees the quickly receding footsteps as whoever attacked her runs off. She wheezes, her mouth gaping as she tries to call for help.

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

Idk, y'all want part two?

Mrs. R

Part Two

Notes: You know what anon, great point. This is gonna be a two-parter. Not beta-read.

If you read this and you haven't seen The Pitt....Come on in, the water's fine.

Warnings: Angst; fluff; all that good stuff

Summary: For as amicable as the divorce had been, the two of you had problems. When Michael was stressed, he shut you out from the source of it, determined not to bring it home. But as hard as he tried, the strain and drain of his work hung on him. You'd wanted to be a safe space for him, but as the pressures of his job mounted, he'd never allowed you to be.

"Didn't think you'd be working today."

It's the most you've said beyond your answering the basics. He hasn't said anything beyond asking the routine questions. He'd had the good grace to school his expression when he'd asked about any medications (blood pressure, cholesterol, birth control), and you'd said no to all.

“We’re slammed. All hands on deck.”

“Yeah, I know.” You wince as he takes careful hold of your wrist, lowering himself onto the stool beside your hospital bed and getting a good look at the jagged cut stretching the length of your palm. 

"So you were replacing a lightbulb in the living room?"

"Uh-huh."

"What were you standing on?"

"...A book."

He shoots you a disbelieving look from beneath his lashes.

"...On top of another book."

A further tip of his brows, and you sigh, finally conceding, "On top of a cardboard box."

He looses a soft, almost grudging laugh as he looks back down at your hand.

"Surprised you didn't stand on the coffee table."

"It's rickety."

"But the carboard box-book combo was stable? What happened to the lightbulb?"

"I lost my balance, my grip tightened and uh...The lightbulb didn't like that."

"You hit your head on the way down?"

"No."

"Alright." He fishes into his pocket for a small flashlight, leaning in to get a closer look. You hold still as he diligently examines the wound.

"It broke pretty cleanly, I don't think there are any other bits in there. I was able to piece it back together—not to use, you know. Just to check."

He hums, giving a small nod. "Couple of stitches and then we'll get you on your way."

"Not gonna summon one of the ducklings for the demonstration?" You ask, unable to stand the relative quiet. "Dana says it's their first day."

"Hm? Oh," He shakes his head with a smile. "Far as I could tell, they were all occupied when I headed back here."

“How are they doing?”

“Well, we’ve got a fainter, a nicknamer, a high-fiver—Local anesthesia—little pinch, don’t look,” He warns, and you turn your head, wincing as the needle dips into your palm. “There we go…And uh, a kid who’s wearing a different pair of scrubs every time I see him.” 

“Fashion show?” 

“Unfortunate series of fluids.”

“Yikes.” 

“Mm.” 

You tentatively glance back down, watching him draw the needle through your palm.

“How are you doing besides that?” You press. 

“...You know.” 

But you don’t know. For as amicable as the divorce had been, the two of you had problems. When Michael was stressed, he shut you out from the source of it, determined not to bring it home. But as hard as he tried, the strain and drain of his work hung on him. You'd wanted to be a safe space for him, but as the pressures of his job mounted, he'd never allowed you to be.

You sit in quiet for a few moments, allowing him to zone in on his work as you let yourself just focus on him.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him in months, though not the first time you’ve spoken. You’ve exchanged the odd texts for holidays, birthdays. The last time you’d seen one another had been brief—hauling a box of things from your car to his car. It marked the official end to your divorce, your possessions and daily lives extricated entirely from one another (save for one of his hoodies, which you'd tucked into your closet and sworn up and down that you simply couldn't find).

But that hadn’t stopped the hurt or the ache of your loss. It hadn’t sapped the warmth, the comfort of the memories of your good days together. It hadn’t lessened what you knew about him, what you could tell from a look.  

"You need a haircut." You tease, tipping your head to get a better look at him. You just manage to see the way a smile tugs at his lips. You hesitate to add anything else, to keep him in a good mood, but you just can't help yourself.

"You're not sleeping," You accuse softly. Robby draws in a slow breath as he threads the needle through your skin again. 

"No," He admits. You wait for him to set the needle aside before you reach out, gently combing your fingers through his hair. His shoulders sag, head tipping into your hand as you gently run your nails down to the nape of his neck.

"What's goin' on, Mikey?" You murmur. His chin tips up to meet your eye, and your palm slides around to gently cup his cheek, thumb smoothing across his beard.   

“…You know what today is?” He asks.

“Adamson?”

“Yeah.”

“S’why I didn’t think you’d be in today.”

“So you stood on two books and a cardboard box to change a lightbulb today, just in case you needed to go to the ER so that you wouldn’t see me?”

“No. Purely coincidental. Besides,” You lean a little closer. “I like seeing you.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, brighter and wider than the last, and your stomach flutters with his admission:

“I like seeing you, too.”

“You two sure you’re divorced?”

The sound of Evans’ voice makes the two of you reel away from one another, your hand lifting from his cheek guiltily. She casts a mischievous smile between the two of you before nodding over her shoulder.

“We’ve got incoming—pileup on the I-79.”

“Be right there.”

Evans casts you one more cursory glance and adds, “See me before you leave, Mrs. R,” before turning, tugging the curtain closed behind her. You try to get a good look at Robby after she calls you that, but he’s up and moving before you can.

“Let’s get you bandaged up and on your way,” Robby pats your knee before stepping around the bed. “We’ll need you to come in for a wound check in a couple of days, make sure it’s coming along nicely.”

“…Can’t be a home visit?” You venture, glancing back toward him. You don’t trust yourself to meet his eye; you still can’t believe you asked it. But you haven’t gotten a good enough look at him, and you just want to know what’s going on—really going on.

You’re not sure it’ll work. He didn’t trust you with those feelings when you were his wife—why should he trust you with them now? 

“We need it on the record.”

It’s a diplomatic answer, and you’re certain that it’s all you’ll get. You nod a bit, watching as he neatly wraps the bandage. 

“You’ve still got tylenol extra strength in the house?” He asks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Take that as needed, up to—”

“1500 milligrams a day, I know.” 

“Still gotta say it.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“There.” 

Robby looks up at you, his hands still wrapped warmly around yours. He draws his lower lip into his mouth, and for a moment, you’re certain that he’s going to say something else—but the curtain is drawn back again.

“Hey Robby, there’s a—Oh. Shit."

You close your eyes, fighting back your own curse before you turn your head, shooting the doctor a tight smile.

“Hey, Frank.” 

“Hey, Mrs. R. Am I interrupting—”

“Nope! I'm all set here. And you guys have incoming, so I should skedaddle.”

Robby lets go of your hand, scooching the stool back as you slide off of the bed, standing. 

“Nice to see you.” 

“Yeah, Frank, you, too.” You pat his shoulder with your good hand before turning to face Robby again. “I’m gonna head out.” 

“Take it easy with the hand. Rest it.”

“I will.”

“I mean it.” 

“Robby—” 

“I know you. You’ll get all cocky with the local anesthetic in your system and you’ll be in agony when it wears off. You drive yourself here?”

“Uber.”

“Good.” 

“Mhm.” You turn to the sandwich cart, eyeing the labels before fishing one out. “I’ll see you around.”

“You’re taking that, really?” 

“It’s for Earl,” You insist, taking a couple more steps back. "Get some rest, Robby."

“Yeah.” 

You let yourself get one last long look at him before you turn away, striding determinedly toward the exit. You just manage to skirt by Evans, taking advantage of the fact that she’s deep in conversation with one of the orderlies. You give the attendants at the front desk a quick wave before you pass down the rows of chairs, holding the sandwich out to Earl. His face splits with a wide grin as he takes it. 

“You’re the best, Mrs. R.”

“Take care’a yourself, Earl.”

“Hey, you, too!” 

-- 

You make it all the way into the parking lot before your phone buzzes with Robby’s message:  I can change that lightbulb when my shift ends

Part Two

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; 

@missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

 ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;  @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

kildare nights. undecided pairing x fem!reader

GOLD AT HAND and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

warnings . . . half canon half not, curse words, sexual innuendos, i mean… spoilers duh, no one dies everyone lives yippee!!!!!!!, im a gay kie believer so… how the show should’ve ended!!! rich pogues and calm life!!!!

genre . . . slice of life-ish, humor, romance, social media!au, big time alternative universe.

navigation.

.ᐟ.ᐟ

— [ PROFILES ]

— one. stinkin’ rich, baby

— two. rat traps

— three. daddy issues fr fr

— four. sarah routledge day

— five. should be at the club

— six. pope if u can hear us

— seven. serving face

— eight.

— nine.

— ten.

more to be added!!