Throuple It

Champion. Goddess. Empress.

She's been driving Roy Kent mad from afar for a while now. But once they finally cross paths, they're both in danger of crashing into love.

Roy Kent x F1 Driver! Reader

A collab with @agentstarkid ❤️

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10- Coming Soon!

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Moodboards by @agentstarkid

Patchwork

Jack Abbott x F!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 6k

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet space.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That had been your mistake.

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

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

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

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

He knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Whatever you say Doc.”

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

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

It was nearly seven.

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

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

A small part of him hoped you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nearly.

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

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

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

Five seconds.

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

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“BP dropping!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Dr Abbott!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A loud laugh broke you out of your embarrassed rambling.

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

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

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

You couldn’t take your eyes off of them.

Off of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.”

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

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

“Yes ma’am.”

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

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

They were added to the menu the next week.

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that would be a lie.

And they both knew it.

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

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

Jack stopped, hands balling into fists at his sides.

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

He walked away.

“She’s in good hands, you know that.”

Jack stayed silent as he walked toward the nurses station.

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

He already craved the cool wind on the roof.

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Everything hurt.

So much.

You couldn’t breathe.

You felt like you were being choked.

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

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

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

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

There was a tube down your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you crying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head was pounding.

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

Another nod, another cringe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched her disappear out into the busy ED.

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

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

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

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

Another nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your cat.”

Your lips turned up, “Yeah, I know.”

You laughed.

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

“You remembered my cat?”

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

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

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

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

“Jack.”

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

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

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

“Rehearsed?” He blinked.

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

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

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

“How ‘bout dinner?”

“What?”

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

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

SOA MASTERLIST!

In this list you´ll find all my stories. I'm currently working on four stories [you can find more on Wattpad], all of them Sons of Anarchy fanfictions called SKIN AND BONES, SUMMER NIGHTS, GONE WITH THE SIN and A LITTLE LOST. English is not my main language! So please, if you see any mistakes that bother you, just let me know. I'm not a proffesional author so my stories are far from perfect. I do this because it's fun and relaxing and because I love writing. You can also find my stories on Wattpad under the same username, there are a lot more fanfics of mine online than on here.

Disclaimer for SKIN AND BONES, SUMMER NIGHTS, GONE WITH THE SIN and A LITTLE LOST; I don't own any of the SOA characters nor the original storyline. All the rights go to Kurt Sutter and the other producers of the show. I do, however, own my original characters and the added storylines I come up with.

Warning⚠️; 18+ only! All stories will have mature content in it, which means that there will be detailed sexual content, violence, blood and gore, domestic violence, sensitive topics, mental health issues etc. If any of these topics will be mentioned or written out in detail, there will be an extra trigger warning in this particular chapter.

SKIN AND BONES

Happy Lowman x fem! oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

A LITTLE LOST

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

SUMMER NIGHTS

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

GONE WITH THE SIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

TRAIN WRECK

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

Jax Teller x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

SOA HALLOWEEN AND CHRISTMAS

Happy Lowman and Jax Teller One Shots

MASTERLIST HERE!

masterlist header and divider by; @saradika-graphics

Trail cam catching a deer fawn with the zoomies

Masterlist

The Pitt

On Call

Characters - Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x OFC , Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, Frank Langdon, Dana Evans, Jack Abbot Summary - Rose Reilly is a surgical resident specializing in trauma medicine under Drs Robinavitch and Abbot. A series of scenes involving Robby and Rose. Tags: Angst, Mutual Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Tension, , Sex, Mutual Pining, Suicidal Ideation, Comfort/Hurt, Where the comfort also hurts One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Spotify playlist

Miscellaneous

*= NSFW/NSFW(ish)

Sons of Anarchy

Strip that Down - by @recklesslonelyblond ~ Chibs

Half-Ass - by @basickassandra ~ Tig

* Dirty Talk - by @underratedcharactersimagines ~ Preference

Crush - ^^^ ~ Chibs

Pregnant - ^^^ ~ Chibs

Your Daughter Calls Tig Dad For the First Time - by @samcroimagine ~ Tig (I know it’s 2 years old but I have a weakness)

Dating Tig - by @imagine-samcro ~ Tig (Again 2 years old but It’s too cute)

Little Avocado - by @wombatwrites ~ Happy

How He Kisses You - by @differentandrebel ~ Preference

NCIS

A Bath Shared is A Problem Solved - by @spaceemonkeyyxd ~ Gibbs

Game of Thrones

Tormund Imagine - by @thranduilsperkybutt ~ Tormund

Failed Proposal … Times Three - by @megsironthrone ~ Jaime

Star Trek

Jumping to Conclusions - by @writingwithadinosaur ~ Bones

Plan Z - by @mybullshitsensesaretingling ~ Spock

Sleeping Preference - by @lots-of-character-imagines

Trouble Sleeping - iguess-theyre-mymess ~ Jim

Knew I Loved You Then - by @kaitymccoy123 ~ Scotty

Criminal Minds

Risky Actions by @readyreadywriteywritey ~ Hotch

Training Day - by @reidbyers ~ JJ

* Shower Sex - by @of-badges-and-guns ~ Hotch

I Needed to Hear Your Voice - by @lucifersagents ~ Morgan

Supernatural

* Sinful Sunday Drabble - by @kittenofdoomage ~ Gadreel

* Sinful Sunday Drabble - ^^^ ~ Benny

My Lords and Ladies - ^^^ ~ Charlie

Drabble - by @girl-next-door-writes ~ Crowley

* Bliss - by @atari-writes ~ Benny

Other

* NSFW Alphabet - by @atari-writes ~ Grady Travis (Fury)

Previous Lists: Marvel | Miscellaneous | Star Trek (Now part of Miscellaneous)

The Worst Kinda Day: Donnie Donahue x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989

It’s been a day. The worst kinda day and somehow Donnie is still standing, still managing to put one foot in front of the other despite the exhaustion that envelops his bones when he enters into the apartment.

Gregory Porter plays from the Alexa in the bedroom, serenading him over the sound of running water from the shower you’re taking. He sheds his clothes with every step, his jacket, his t-shirt, his jeans until he’s standing gloriously naked on the opposite side of the glass listening to your perfectly pitched voice, the one he fell in love with before he even laid eyes on you.

It’s an age old story, man walks into a bar, falls in love with that first song.

Three years down the line he marries the singer and they live happily ever after.

That’s the way it’s supposed to go but his love story it nearly ended tonight because some asshole decided to shoot up Pittfest while you were on stage. He’s lucky you weren’t hurt, that you aren’t dead.

That’s the thought he takes into the shower with him after he removes his glasses.

How he can’t imagine a world without you in it.

You smile when he steps inside the wet room with you, the hot water soaking his aching muscles as he steps under the stream, his hands coming to rest on your waist, his mouth claiming yours.

There are no words in this moment only the intense want that comes with almost losing the one you love.

Your hand wraps around his cock guiding it to just the right place and  he moans into your mouth as he breeches you, filling you slowly. Your fingers chase up his back, cupping the nape of his neck keeping him close and he pulls out and thrusts again, harder this time, faster. You bite his lower lip in response, signalling you’re in the mood to play a little rough and he gets the message loud and clear.

His palms rove over your skin as he drives into you. Grasping, squeezing, kneading all the right places until your tightening around his dick, gripping him so tight he sees stars as he comes in hot white spurts, pumping them deep.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “When people started flooding in I thought…”

He trails off unable to say anything else as your hands caress his shoulders, sweeping over the broad muscles.

“I’m ok.” You promise him, your thumb tracing over his bearded jaw. “Nothing happened to me, I’m right here.”

“I know, the whole thing just fucked me up a bit.” He admits, his mouth ghosting over yours. “It’s better now I’ve seen you for myself.”

“Well I think it’ll be even better once you get yourself onto that bed so I can use that massage oil on your shoulders, help you relieve a little tension…” You have that look in your eyes, the one that gets him hard all over again because the massaging always leads to slick hands somewhere else, to burying himself deep within that perfect pussy.

“Go get it warmed up.” He smiles, slapping your ass lightly as you reach for your towel. “I’ll be finished up in here in a sec.”

Love Donnie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

rusty

jack abbot x female reader

summary: after a dry spell in his sex life, jack would’ve never imagined the next women he’d have naked in his bed would be his favorite first year resident.

content: nsfw, 18+, mdni, resident!reader, touch starved!jack, established relationship, a little bit of fluff smushed in there, but mostly smut, jack being nervous to have sex for the first time in years, but then ofc something in him snaps and he gets a little freaky with it, jack uses the nickname kid for the reader (1) time, also uses the nickname sweetheart, fingering, handjob (if you blink you’ll miss it), p in v sex, dirty talk, condom use and the crowd boos (sorry had to keep it realistic! if i’m having sex with someone for the first time and they’re not wrapping it….questionable)

word count: 4.5k

author’s note: wanted to write something about big tough jack abbot being a little nervy to see you naked but i also wanted to write something about him having an inappropriate relationship with his resident…. so alas this was born. enjoy!

“I haven’t done this in a while.” 

The words stumble from Jack’s lips in an exasperated sigh. It nearly gets lost between kisses, the confession hidden amidst the steamy exchange as your bodies barrel through his front door. 

Reaching up to thread your fingertips through the curls at the nape of his neck, your forearms rest on his shoulders to steady yourself as he maneuvers you into his bedroom. 

You don’t reply to his admission, just smile into the kiss as your hands trail down his torso finding the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips carefully tracing his skin underneath the material. 

He wanted to tell you it had been years since he’d been with a woman like this— wanted to apologize in advance for being a bit rusty, but the light touch of your hands exploring the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, had him losing his previous train of thought. 

He couldn’t think about how long it’d been since he’d brought a woman back to his place, couldn’t even think about how insanely wrong it was to be kissing you in his bedroom.

With that being said, he should be proud of himself for holding out this long.

It had been months of having you on his shift.

Week after week of watching you prance around the ER with that cute little smile on your face, following every last one of his orders. Always meeting his sarcastic remarks with witty comments of your own, the two of you working effortlessly together like there was some sort of magnetic field between you that pulled him to every case you worked on. 

It was so innocent at first, shared inside jokes and granola bars in the breakroom. Him giving you a hard time for your absurd coffee intake through the night, making comments about how the quad shot of espresso you walked in with was going to send you into cardiac arrest. 

But then, there was the time he put his hand on your lower back to squeeze behind you at the triage desk. The second his touch met the polyester of your scrubs, applying just enough pressure to seep through the thin fabric, your head turned in his direction. 

You didn’t mean to look at him, but you couldn’t help it. His fingers stayed splayed out on your back for one second too long, and your eyes shot to his, the electric current running through your body impossible to ignore. 

A sudden tension emerged in the small space between you, his stare raking down your body to where his hand sat, just above your waist, taking their time trailing back up with a knowing smirk on his lips. 

The moment was fleeting but it played out in slow motion before his hand was gone and he was breezing past you into the trauma bay. After that it became a game of cat and mouse, both of you sensing a pull of desire toward the other but almost too afraid to do anything about it. 

For Jack, it was because you were his intern, just a first-year resident looking to him for guidance and education. His apprentice. It felt wrong to look at you in any other way. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he took advantage of the obvious power imbalance at play in the situation. 

Not to mention he was off his game. 

He had no problem coming across abundantly confident at work, but as far as dating went, Jack hadn’t waded into those waters for years. There was a part of him that gave up on his love life. Maybe that’s why he threw himself into work, to avoid the loneliness that found him in his lack of companionship. 

You could sense his apprehension. The way he would subtly flirt with you and then walk away from the conversation like nothing happened. He was trying to avoid the guilt of getting too familiar, but it left you confused about his intentions. 

It wasn’t until one morning that you decided to rip off the band aid entirely, asking him to join you for breakfast after your shift. 

It was a simple invitation, one that could’ve been strictly friendly, but the way he smiled when you asked, looking around to see if anyone else heard, told you it was the start of something else entirely. 

And it was.

The two of you went to breakfast, talking for hours in a corner booth over a stack of pancakes and a few slices of bacon. 

It was the first time you saw each other outside of the hospital. Everyone else in that restaurant could see the two of you for what you were; happy. Finding joy in each other’s presence through constant laughs and affectionate smiles. But Jack couldn’t see it that way— couldn’t shake the conflicting feelings of guilt. It wasn’t until you reached over him to dip your bacon in a pool of syrup on his plate that he finally relaxed. He soaked it in, sitting with you like that, because when the nagging thoughts of how inappropriate it was began to cloud his mind, the gentle touch of your hand brushing his thigh chased them away. Fingertips curling just above his knee as you continued telling him a story, making him forget why he was even worried about saying yes to your invitation in the first place. 

That was the first time he crossed a boundary with you. Allowing himself to get lost in your voice with the two of you hidden away in some diner down the street from the hospital. But it didn’t stop there. 

The next time was when he walked you home after work, only three days after your shared breakfast date. 

He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but you parted ways outside the sliding hospital doors and he watched as you walked down the street, all by yourself. For a split second he could imagine what his frame would look like walking next to you, and so he followed. Catching up to your stride with satisfaction running through his veins at your surprised smile to see him standing at your shoulder. You lived in an apartment building a block away, he knew because you mentioned it one time, and even though his leg was killing him after such a brutal shift, he walked next to you all the way to the front door of your complex. Your bodies lingered on the sidewalk, palpable tension bouncing between them through prolonged goodbyes. 

That was the first time your gaze fell to his lips. 

The curiously hopeful look in your eyes made his mouth go completely dry because Surely you weren’t going to kiss him in broad daylight. The world spun around him while your eyes stayed fixed on the straight line of his mouth, until they fluttered back up, meeting his line of sight and smiling brightly.

“Goodnight Jack.” Your hand met his bicep, squeezing lightly as you swiftly walked into the building with a small wave. 

Goodnight, even though it was nearly eight in the morning. 

It was something you said to everyone after each shift, bidding your coworkers a good stretch of sleep, knowing you all shared a fucked-up sleep schedule due to working the night shift. 

Jack found the greeting endearing. Smiling wide every time he heard the sing-song chime of your voice wishing everyone a restful day before leaving work in the morning. 

His days were hardly restful though, he never got much sleep when he went home, because you were always on his mind. 

After that day in front of your apartment building, he went out of his way to walk you home nearly every morning. If only  for a few extra minutes of hearing your voice, and a small hope that you would look at his lips like that again. 

When you finally did kiss him, it was well worth the wait. 

It happened on the roof. 

An especially hard call landed you outside for some fresh air, overlooking the city as you tried your best to clear your mind. 

Jack came up to check on you. 

Avoiding him entirely, your apathetic stare stayed plastered on the lights of the city. He stood next to you in silence for a while before placing a gentle hand on your cheek in reassurance, bringing your gaze to his and searching your eyes to make sure you were okay. 

It was emotionally charged, the way you crashed your lips into his. He held your face delicately in his hands, using his jaw to dive into the kiss, hungry and sloppy and undeniably passionate. 

More than anything he wanted to explore every inch of you— to let his hands travel your entire body, but instead his palms stayed strictly on your face, careful not to push things too far. 

In fact, weeks of suppression followed while Jack tried to respect the unknown undercurrents of your relationship. 

A few more kisses were shared, even some heated make out sessions and heavy petting in the on-call room at work, but nothing more. 

He’d be lying if he said his trepidation wasn’t slightly due to the rather lengthy sexual hiatus taking place in his life. But he could only deny his urges for so long, and this morning after breakfast, instead of walking you back to your apartment, he invited you over to his place for the first time. An unspoken agreement hung in the air the whole way home, one laced with heavy sexual tension. 

That’s what landed you here— barely two feet past the threshold of his bedroom with your hands dangerously close to the waistband of his pants and Jack couldn’t dare to think straight. 

The only thoughts he could muster revolved around how much he fucking liked you. This other worldly figure standing before him, toying with the ties on his pants, fingertips brushing his abdomen and fuck- he was on another planet. Your touch was sending a vaguely familiar heat rushing through his body and he wanted more— needed it. 

Something about the situation sent him on a power trip. His cock pushing against the lose restraint of his scrubs, the sudden realization that he finally had you right where he wanted you after all this time tainting his thoughts. Months of getting to know each other and countless dates ending in polite kisses and lingering goodbyes— all of it leading to this moment with his fingertips curling into your waist. 

But there was still a little sliver of him that felt nervous, slightly unsure of venturing into this unknown territory with you. 

He was still trying to convince himself that you were genuinely interested in him, because when he looked at you he saw this beautiful woman, all radiant and self-assured on the arm of some guy nearly twice her age who rarely smiled and always had a grumpy wise-ass remark on his tongue. 

His hands went rigid at the thought, the doubts taking him out of the moment for a few seconds, and you could sense his sudden uneasiness.

Pulling away from the kiss, you searched his expression, his lips parted to make way for fast shallow breaths as he stared back at you, his eyes hooded with desire but swimming with hesitation. 

“We don’t have to do anything Jack.” Your words were sincere as you continued looking for any sign of regret in the hazel of his eyes.

“No, I want this.” His brows furrowed as the winded confession fell from his lips. His hands grasped at your hips, holding firm while his thumbs rubbed into your sides. 

“You sure?” Voice changing slightly, you moved into a more playful state, fingers coming to the tie on his pants as you kept your eyes trained on his face. 

“We could just talk.” 

A playful whisper slid between your lips as you undid the drawstring between your fingertips.

“Or maybe watch a movie.” 

Then, your hand slid into the waistband of his underwear, only a few inches, just enough to make his breath hitch. 

He tries to cover his surprise at your touch, now dangerously close to the base of his cock. He’s mustering enough self-control to speak, his words coming out calm and collected despite the dizzying effect of your hand down his pants.

“You’re funny, kid. You know that?” 

Kid. 

A nickname he'd been calling you since the day you were assigned to his shift. You were just an intern; young, hungry and passionate. Had he known you’d end up with your hands halfway down his pants in the middle of his bedroom, he might've opted for a different title of endearment.

“Seriously Jack, we can take things slow-“

A low chuckle interrupts your attempt to comfort him, trying to give him a chance to back out. 

He guides you back to sit on the edge of his bed, smirking and shaking his head from side to side.

“Stop talking.” The words are rushed. A deep rasp from his lips as he leans in to kiss you, pushing your body until your back meets his mattress.

“I don’t think you realize how long I’ve thought about this.” It was apparent that Jack was hungry— starving even— to see more of you. His hands working quickly to get your pants down your legs and onto his bedroom floor. 

“What do you think about Jack?” He’d never heard that tone in your voice before, low and sultry while you leaned up on your elbows to look up at him. 

“Jesus- I’ve thought about having you on my bed like this,” There was nothing subtle about the way his eyes scraped over your as he paused between words. Eyes drifting to your lower half, legs parted slightly, a pair of black panties acting as the only barrier between his eyes and your naked body. “all spread out for me like this.”

At his words, your legs open further, sending a muffled growl straight to Jack’s closed mouth as he lets his hand fall on your inner thigh. Trailing upwards, his fingertips come in contact with the hem of your underwear. 

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about pulling you into the on-call room after our shift.” He’s leaning above you, eyes glued to your clothed core, fingers toying with the thin material of your panties at the inside of your thighs. 

“How badly I’ve wanted to fuck you on one of those shitty beds, or maybe even against the wall…” 

“But you deserve better. To be treated right, on a real bed.” Suddenly the smooth cotton of his comforter feels much warmer underneath you, your hands splaying over the pillowy fabric on your palms. 

Jack watches the way your shoulders relax, and your head falls an inch to the side at his words, your body melting into the moment of shared desire. 

“Want to take my time with you. Make you feel good. Watch you fall apart.” He leans in to kiss you, right as one of his fingertip’s dip below the fabric of your panties to run along your slit. You gasp into the kiss, and he takes the opportunity to pull away.

“To hear the little noises you make for me.” His lips are only inches from yours as his breathless whisper fills the space between them, his hand now fully pushing your panties to the side, his touch light as a feather, and lingering at your core.

“Bet you sound so pretty when you cum.”

Your mouth falls open and you’re not sure what triggered it, his words, or the way he pushes a single finger into you. The movement is slow and precise as he watches your eyes flutter in pleasure. 

For someone who’s sex life was currently non-existent, Jack didn’t miss a beat when it came to the rhythm of your gratification. The moan dripping from your tongue coming right on cue as he slipped another finger in with the first, stroking with purpose and dedication as his name came floating from your lips. 

“Jack.”

The word was foggy and desperate as his touch subdued you, his fingers curling at the sweet call of his name, hooking at just the right spot. 

“Fuck that’s it.” A whine of pleasure rippled through you at the pressure of his fingers against your walls. With one stroke after another, the building tension in your abdomen threatened to overflow. 

Jack’s stare falls on his fingers as they work you open. 

He can hardly handle how responsive you are to his touch; your hips bucking into his palm, little pleas falling from your lips— It’s enough to make him cum right there in his damn pants. 

“God- you sound gorgeous.” The compliment is almost primal, his voice nearing a growl as he looks down at your body writhing on the simple motion of his fingers inside you, a slave to his touch.

He lets himself get lost in the noises flowing from your mouth, allowing each moan to act as a signal, showing him exactly where and how you want him. 

“Even better than I could’ve imagined.” He finishes his thought and brings his stare back to yours, the fucked-out expression in your eyes telling him just how close you are. 

His words send you reeling, acting as a catalyst for the strain pulling in your abdomen. 

He can feel your body preparing to tumble over the edge, walls clenching around his fingers, and thighs flexing.

“There you go sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. That’s new. 

It surprises you both the second it leaves his lips. But the surprise of it barely registers, instead the word unleashes a flutter in your chest and a warmth between your legs. You’re obsessed with the way it sounds in the rasp of Jack’s voice. In fact, you like it so much your body trembles and whimpers fill the air as you come undone on Jack’s fingers.

His eyes watch as his movements slow, his digits coated in your slick and pushing into you continuously even after your body finishes shuddering.

It’s almost sadistic the small smirk he’s wearing on his lips as he fixates on his fingers sliding in and out of your body. 

He was starved. Starved of touch— the warmth of another’s body. Feeling how much you ached for him drove him crazy. The way you pulled him in with each thrust of his fingers made him want to stay there all night, making you cum over and over again to feed his craving of your body at his mercy. 

If it weren’t for your delicate hands gripping at his forearm forcing him back to reality, he would’ve kept going, would’ve seen just how much more you could take. 

“Jack.” Your voice breaks him from his trance, hand wrapping around his arm and pulling him back to hover parallel over your body. 

An unsolicited grunt erupts from deep in his throat as your hands once again slide into his underwear, only this time they fall far enough to envelop his cock in your soft touch. 

His hand comes down forcefully next to your head, palm flat against the mattress to hold himself steady as pleasure washes over him.

You’d only pumped over his length once and he was already squeezing his eyes shut in focus, trying not to spill into your hand. 

“Sweetheart.”

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have used that nickname again, not right now when he was seconds away from having an embarrassingly quick orgasm. 

Your grip tightened slightly at the word, hand working a little faster and paying extra close attention to his overly sensitive tip when he has to put a hand over yours to stop your efforts. 

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up.” His brows raise at your smug expression, your hand still stroking him despite his attempt to stop you. 

“I’m serious.” A breathless snarl meets your ear as his head falls lower, nearly resting in the crook of your neck.

You hum in response, one hand continuing its work between his legs, the other pushing at the pants still around his hips.

He was quick to oblige your unspoken request, bringing his own hand down to rid himself of his pants and underwear. His hands are then at your hips yanking your underwear down your legs.

In a heated frenzy both of you took a few seconds to take off any remaining clothes. Sitting up to swiftly pull off shirts, and while you’re reaching to take off your bra, Jack stretches to his bedside table, fishing out a condom from its box that’s been sitting untouched in his drawer for far too long.

Then, you’re back to square one, his body hovering over yours, and his lips kissing down your neck.

Your hand finds him again, palm encircling his member as he freezes under your touch.

“You sure you wanna do this?” His voice is lost in the skin of your chest, his lips melting against your collarbone.

“You’re asking me? I thought you were the one who needed convincing.” The giggle in your voice has Jack nipping playfully at your skin, his hand confidently fitting between your legs.

“What can I say, you’ve persuaded me.” A teasing tone slips through his lust clouded whisper, his fingers collecting the slick at your core with a groan on his tongue.

You grab the condom out of his hand, tearing it open and rolling it onto him with ease, the feeling causing him to lean further into your touch. 

This was one of the reasons Jack was so drawn to you.

You held such discreet authority, taking charge with a charming smile and a sweet command in your voice.

He couldn’t have imagined that same power he witnessed at work would roll over into the bedroom. Your captivating ability to take quiet control was suddenly so obvious in the way you were guiding his now protected length to line up with your entrance, body shimmying down the bed to coerce him into you. 

When the head of his cock finally pushes into you, you both let out noises of relief.

The placated gasp from your lips, and the profound groan on his, proves that you’d both been longing for this exact moment for weeks.

He took his time. Learning the hug of your body. Savoring every inch of pure bliss, as he filled you at a painstaking pace. Your hands shot to his back, fingertips digging into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades just enough to encourage his movement until he entered you completely, pushed in to the hilt.

His eyes stay on yours, watching the way your lids almost closed while you adjusted to him, your mouth parted slightly at the stretch.

Then he’s pulling out and thrusting back in, moaning at the way you feel wrapped around him. Your head tilts back into his comforter at the sweet friction of his strokes, and the sight beneath him has another moan bubbling up Jack’s throat. 

It was exactly how he’d dreamt this moment— your back on his bed, with your head thrown back in pleasure. Getting to watch your body respond to him his perch above you, your naked figure far more beautiful than anything he could’ve imagined. It was all so perfect. You were perfect. 

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, not too fast, but perfectly timed with the squeeze of your fingers on his back. He knew he must be hitting something right in the way you were gripping his shoulders and crying out for him. Crying out for him. Your voice was strained and winded as his name fell from your lips in a chant. 

His self-control must’ve been at an all-time high as he closed his eyes for a moment, gaining his bearings and talking himself down from cumming at the sounds of your whines.

Instead, he collects whatever composure is left in his body and brings a hand down between the two of you, fingertips finding that sensitive spot just above where his cock is driving into you.

He rubs steady circles into your clit, and judging by the way his name jumps from you an octave higher than before, he knows he’ll get to watch you cum again. 

He makes it his goal. Setting his thrusts at a fixed pace, as his fingers deliberately stroke your bundle of nerves. He focuses completely on your pleasure to distract himself from the pulsing pressure running through his veins.

He needs to see you let go for him one more time before he lets himself finish. An easy task given the way your back was arching off his bed, sending your hips further into him. 

“I’m gonna-“ The words are hardly coherent as they slip between your gasps and moans. Wanting to tell him you were close but unable to string together more than two words. 

“Come on sweetheart.” His words were directed straight to your core, eyes back down and watching between your bodies as he slides into you. His mind growing hazy at the sight of you taking his cock so well. 

His encouragement was all you needed to let go.

Your release washes over you in waves of bliss.

Jack’s eyes make the journey back to your face, watching in awe at your expression taking on a state of utter relief as your head falls even deeper into the blanket underneath you.

That image is what finally makes him succumb to the persistent chase of his release.

He’s groaning and panting, one of his hands coming to grip your hips, the other balancing himself on the mattress, pressed flat on the space next to your face.

He’s grunting profanities as he spills through his orgasm, allowing his elbow to bend so he can rest his forehead against yours. Both of you breathing heavy, eyes meeting in a moment of vulnerability and understanding as you bring a hand up to lace through his hair. Almost petting his grey curls, you lazily smile through the puffs of breath on your lips.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over seeing you like this, an angel laid out on his bedspread— just for him.

He felt himself getting hard again, already hungry for another round.

His cock getting hard again, that fast after sex, was something he hadn’t experienced in over a decade. These days Jack needed plenty of time between orgasms to even think about getting another erection, but in this moment, still buried in you and hearing the tiny gasps of breath coming from your heaving chest, he wanted more. He could feel his addiction to you growing stronger, reminding him of the forbidden nature of your budding relationship.

“What are we getting ourselves into.” As if he were speaking his thoughts aloud, his voice filled the room.

He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about what the future held for your relationship, his forehead still pressed against yours. 

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Abbot x F!Reader!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love, slow down, what’s going on”

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

“Sweethea..”

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

You. Who made him want to see the day again. Made him want to try again and boy did that make him feel guilty. Even more so with how kind, understanding and sweet you were. Never caring about his leg, his hesitation, or age gap.

He didn’t cheat on you nor think he was single. Dana had wanted to meet for lunch, probably to tell him to put himself out there again and instead it was her friend, Cindy, who showed up.

He stayed to be kind and now he’s mentally kicking himself for doing it, for not telling the people in his life about you, his sweet girl.

She had gotten his number through Dana and Jack can only imagine what you were thinking and going through. He had put you through more than you deserved and now he had to fix this fast, before he lost you too.

——

Running back to your place might have been cowardly but you didn’t care. You had spent a year of your life with Jack Abbot and now it’s was all falling apart.

You curl up in your bed, unable to stop the tears as you feel like hours go by. No contact from Jack, no Abbot, which hurts you more. Tears roll down as you sniffle, when suddenly you feel a large hand on your body, making you still.

“Oh sweetheart please, please I’m sorry for breaking in but please. Let me explain, please baby” his voice sings to you, as he gently rubs your back to soothes you. Coaxing you up to look at his handsome face.

Your eyes red, teary and wet. Jacks heart squeezes as he gazes at you.

“What do you want.” You bite out, anger rushing through you.

“It’s not what you think” Jack says as he gently holds your hands in his, “please just listen to me”.

He explains everything, how Dana set it up thinking she was helping, how he stayed to be polite and regrets it, even more so as she got his number later. How he should have told you immediately and regrets his actions, how they’ve hurt you and him.

You stare at him, as he opens his heart to you. A part of you wants to forget and forgive but another, wants to know what this really means for you.

“What am I to you jack? I’m tired. I’m tired of being a secret and I don’t want to pressure you. So please, where do we go from here” you tearfully sniffle out.

Jack moves closer to you in the bed, and takes your face into his hand. His lips brush softly against yours, as he whispers “no more hiding, you’re mine and I love you”, before going in to deepen the kiss.

“I love you too”

——

“Wait a minute, did you break my door locks???”

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

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

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

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

wc: 1.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An eating disorder doctor? He snorts at your question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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