ÎĄÏÏÏ ÎŽÎčαÎČÎŹÏÎ”Ï ÏÏα ÏÏÎ”ÎœÎŹ αΜ Î”ÎŻÎŽÎ±Îœ ÎŒÎŹÏÎčα ÎșαÏÏÎ±ÎœÎŹ ÏαΜ Ïα ÎŽÎčÎșÎŹ ÏÎżÏ ..
ÎίλÏÎżÏ Î Î±ÏÏαλίΎηÏ-΀ο ÎșαÏηλΔÎčÏ

Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
wallacepolsom
dirt enthusiast

shark vs the universe

romaâ
Acquired Stardust
trying on a metaphor
d e v o n

â
Xuebing Du

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation

izzy's playlists!

oozey mess
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
YOU ARE THE REASON
taylor price

seen from United States

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seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from United Kingdom
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@dancingtruffle
ÎĄÏÏÏ ÎŽÎčαÎČÎŹÏÎ”Ï ÏÏα ÏÏÎ”ÎœÎŹ αΜ Î”ÎŻÎŽÎ±Îœ ÎŒÎŹÏÎčα ÎșαÏÏÎ±ÎœÎŹ ÏαΜ Ïα ÎŽÎčÎșÎŹ ÏÎżÏ ..
ÎίλÏÎżÏ Î Î±ÏÏαλίΎηÏ-΀ο ÎșαÏηλΔÎčÏ

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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quitting my job to be a full time upstairs neighbor. bowling balls are in the mail as we speak
the intensity of my desires are normal. (âlying)
fuckâŠ
if u are reading this i am pouring positive vibes on u from a lil watering can

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I cherish the creature
I have drawn your beast
A very important snippet from Shawn Hatosy's Variety Interview about The Pitt
Part of the reason he didnât see the interview was because heâs taken a step away from social media â something that felt necessary this season as some of the commentary became too intense. âIâve had to kind of step back. Because sometimes it goes into these weird places where if fans disagree about a character, they start to turn on each other. That is not what this is supposed to be,â he says. âAll through my career, Iâve had a pretty good relationship with social media, but now, seeing how all this is unfolding, Iâm kind of reevaluating what that looks like.â
So-called "fans" need to read this over and over until it's burned into the backs of their eyelids, and then fucking reevaluate themselves.
TOY STORY 2 (1999) Dir. John Lasseter
jackson âJAXâ teller sons of anarchy: season 4, episode 7 | fruit for the crows
S4 Jax was such a bad boy. I need him bad â€ïžâđ„đ @hunnamandhoney
S4 Jax was absolutely lethal, babe đźâđšđ„”đ«
Happy 55th birthday to Noah Wyle (June 4, 1971), the wearer of many hats đ© đ§ą đ

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opened up my instagram to this and i almost diedâŠohhuudijssjd i need him
oh, i see
"slut era" i say as i rot and decay in my bedroom and watch the years pass me by as i miss out on core experiences other people my age are having while i think about the past
jack abbot x shy!reader
summary: the new nurse in the pitt has caught jacks attention.
content: fluff, hurt/comfort, yearning, protective jack, age gap, miscommunication, slow burn, he snaps at you, descriptions of reader injury/blood, mentions of abuse (patient)
wc: 10.5k
note: this is my first fic, enjoy :))
masterlists
You desperately wanted to make a good first impression on your first shift at PTMC.Â
The universe had a different idea, with your plan actively unravelling.Â
Youâre new to Pittsburgh, and unfamiliar with the notorious unreliability of the public transport system, causing you to be 45 minutes late and frantically running from the nearest bus stop into the emergency department.
This is your worst nightmare. You picture everyone looking at you as you walk in, silently judging. Hating the feeling of eyes on you. Youâre definitely flushed red in the face, your bag being packed to the brim with items you certainly do not need weighing you down, cursing yourself for packing so heavy.
While running through the entrance of the ER, youâre barely looking where youâre going and end up colliding with a chest, solid and unmoving you almost mistake him for a wall. You stumble a little, losing your footing and almost fall backwards over your own feet.
Warm hands on your shoulder steady you, preventing the horrific embarrassment.
âOh fuck, Iâm so sorryâ I didnât even see you,â your voice is frantic and apologetic, worried youâve already made an enemy and you hadnât even started your shift.Â
A deep, gravelly voice cuts through to you, grounding your panicked state.
âHey, kidâ easy, easy. Youâre okay.â His voice is instantly calming. âYou our new nurse?â he asks gently, while his hands slip to your arms, fully stabilising you.Â
You settle down quickly, gathering yourself and finally looking up at him, nodding after a while realising he asked you a question.Â
Heâs incredibly attractive.
The first thing that you notice about him is how big he is. Heâs taller than you and so broad, forming a literal wall between you and the ER in this moment, no wonder you crashed into him. He stands so close to you that you have to lift your head to look up at him as he towers over you with a gentle, concerned look. Butterflies twist in your stomach.
You swallow thickly, nerves returning as you realise you probably fucked this impression up by remaining silent and gawking at this man.Â
Collecting yourself, âUhâ yes! Thatâs meââ you stumble over your words internally cringing, âIâm so sorry about being late, it won't happen again.â
He chuckles quietly, finding your flustered state incredibly cute, and extends a hand to you.Â
You notice the size of his arms, his veins, his handsâ oh, youâve got to stop thinking like this. Youâre so fucked.Â
âDr. Abbot, nice to meet ya, kid.â His voice is low and gravelly, stirring your stomach. âBut donât let it happen again.â His voice is firm, making your insides flip and guilt rises within you.
âNo, no of course not. I promise. Iâll be 45 minutes early every day!â Your voice is laced with guilt and you avoid his eyes, whilst shaking his hand, feeling like youâve already failed before starting.
âJesus, kid, breathe.â He chuckles, mouth twitching in amusement. âYouâre apologising like you hit me with your car.â He soothes, smirking a little at how easily his teasing had gotten to you.Â
He watches your face fall in relief, and you let out a small, shy laugh. Still holding onto your hand a second longer, it's hard for him not to notice how incredibly soft your hands are in his, how untouched by cruelty, unlike his rough, calloused hands. Something protective stirs in Jack, confusing him, but a drive to keep you safe, keep you soft takes root in him. He needs to ensure this place doesnât ruin you, doesnât cause you to burn out like he's seen time-and-time again with nurses and doctors.Â
âIâm really not usually this much of a disasterâ well, most of the time.â You laugh shakily.
You notice his intense stare, like heâs studying you, makes you squirm under his gaze. Your eyes flick down where your hands are still joined, you notice the sheer size difference, how his hand completely engulfs yours. You go to pull away, when he brings a second hand to cup your hand, completely engulfing it, before he pulls away entirely. Your breath hitches, trying to stave off any completely inappropriate thoughts,
Dr. Abbot tilts his head towards central, signalling to meet him there once youâre settled.
âOhâ and, kid?â He drawls, eying your bag as you head towards the lockers.
âWe do have supplies here, I promise.â he teases, but his voice is soft and amused, referring to your massively overpacked bag, watching heat flood your face and you nod, completely embarrassed.Â
Jack watches you scuttle away, shaking his head and chuckling to himself, but his mind is elsewhere, how you were looking at him so shyly, your wide doe eyes ingrained in his mind. Imagining your eyes after kissing you, those eyes looking up at him whenâ Fuck. This is so unlike him.
Approaching central, he sees Lena and Shen talking in hushed voices. He chooses not to entertain their shenanigans, just crossing his arms and staring up at the patient board, but he catches Lenaâs fierce stare in his periphery, alongside Shenâs smirk.
âStay away from my nurses, Abbot. Sheâs clearly a good kid.â She scolds, her tone firm and motherly. He can feel her eyes shooting daggers at him.Â
Jack doesnât look away from the board, smirking a little.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â His voice is low and equally amused, shaking his head gently. âJust being friendly.â
Shen scoffs, âYeah? Friendly? You look like you wanted to eat her.â
Jack tenses a little going to defend himself before Lenaâs sweet voice interrupts him. She walks past Jack making her way towards you where you had emerged from the lockers and placing a protective hand on your shoulder.
âThere ya are, honey. Iâm Lena, your charge nurse. Câmon, let us give ya a tour, get a lay of the land, yeah?â
During the tour, you notice Abbot seems to never stray too far from you. Always directly behind you, his hand hovering over the small of your back whenever the halls get crowded, ready to move you if needed.
Surely it's just friendly, you tell yourself.
You hope otherwise.
âââââââ
True to your words, youâre never late again.Â
Always early to every shift, settled down and working by the time Jack clocks in. But he notices since youâre starting to be early, you get closer and closer with Robby, and it wouldnât bother him, if youâd at least show the same fondness for him.
Every shift, you avoid interacting with Dr. Abbot at all. You tell yourself it's necessary, you canât let yourself fall for an attending, despite how flustered, frankly, just warm all over, he makes you feel. You love watching him work, his competency and confidence as he works allures you. Especially in trauma cases, when he barks orders to his residents, you imagine him telling you what to do, when to do it, how to do it, guiding you.
However, during a particular trauma, you were meant to be in the background, watching and learning. But you couldnât stop watching Abbotâs hands work with such fine precision, the way they flex, the veins popping out. You get lost in your head staring at how big they are, how theyâd feel cupping your face, your neck, inside youâ
Thatâs when you decided, for your own well being, but most importantly your work, you couldnât be around him.
From then on, if you needed anything, you went to anyone and everyone, to avoid speaking to Abbot. Even if he was right there, and asking if you needed anything, youâd go quiet, and your quiet, meek voice dismisses him, âOh, uh, Iâm okay, thank you.â Before you turn and scuttle off in the complete opposite direction, towards Shen.
It bugs him.
How you avoid him, how easily you laugh and joke with Robby, or how you always go to Shen for questions or help.
Jack watches right now, as you laugh freely with Robby, gazing up at him as if youâre hanging on to every word. Gazing at him like he hung the moon. He feels an ugly feeling crawling up his throat, and doesn't want to admit jealousy. Heâs not jealous. Heâs not. He simply wishes you'd talk to him, with those wide, round doe eyes, smiling shyly and getting you to fall apart with the simplest of words and touches.Â
Heâs so lost in his own head, he doesnât notice Robby walking by ready to leave for the day.
âYou got a good one there, brother, might steal her from the dark side if youâre not careful.â Robby jokes in passing, leaving Jack completely stunned. His eye twitches and his breath stops.
No.
His gaze flickers up to you across the ER, your sweet laugh cutting through the air.
Youâre his.
âââââââ
Admittedly, youâre making it very hard to make you his.
Youâre almost too polite with him. A small, âgood evening,â greeting when he comes in, a simple, âsee you tomorrow, boss,â whenever you head out. Youâre impossible to get time alone with.
Every time he catches you walking down the hall, jogging to catch up to you, asking you how your night is, you get all quiet. You donât even look at him beyond a polite glance, your smile is tight and professional. Nodding before dipping into the closest room to get away.
He sighs, thinking you could be so focused on your work you may not want to entertain small talk. But he knows thatâs not it, seeing how you laugh every time Shen or Ellis make jokes as you walk with them in the hallway.
So he tries to talk to you when youâre not as busy, just charting.
Jackâs leaning against the counter at central, pretending to be looking at the patient board, but his eyes keep drifting over to you, thinking of ways to get you to talk to him.Â
He watches the way you pout while charting, your brows pulled tight in concentration, and has the sudden urge to smooth the crease between them with his thumb. He wants to gently scold you for mindlessly chewing at the tip of your pen whilst you work, to take his hand and brush the hair covering your face behind your earâ
His body takes him over to your desk before his mind catches up with him, a seemingly magnetic pull driving him to your side.
He slots himself beside you, a hand over the back of your chair, leaning down to look at your screen.Â
âOhâ Dr. Abbot!â you startle, being caught off guard.Â
Your mouth dries and your heart rate ticks like a rabbit, having him so close. His face is so close to yours, you donât turn your head, you canât. You can hear his breathing, can smell his cologne at this distance. Your mind reels.
He can smell you too. Caramel and vanilla.
The proximity alone has your stomach flipping, his hand behind you becoming an oddly domestic, claiming gesture. Placing a hand on your back, his voice is gentle, low when he speaks.
âThis is good stuff, kid, keep it up.â
His praise sends a jolt down your spine and your face reddens instantly. He can feel you twitch under his hand.
You dip your head, hiding your red face and mumble a quick, breathless, âUhâ thank you, Dr. Abbot.â
He watches you fidget, uncomfortable from the praise. Laughing quietly, before removing his hand.Â
Youâre so shy. Shy with him. Oh.
But then you flee, almost running in the opposite direction, and his mind reels. Maybe heâs read this all wrong.
âââââââ
He concludes after a few more nights of avoidance that maybe you just want nothing to do with him at all.Â
He keeps his distance, returning your polite greetings, but he hates it. The night shift is supposed to flow, be light and less stressful. Jack's spent so long cultivating an environment where people feel free to laugh, ask questions, not be afraid of getting things wrong.
Now youâre here and heâs all confused. He wants you to enter the stream but it feels like wading against a river trying to figure out what to do differently for you.
He decides to just ask. He approaches you during your break one night.
Youâre sat in the break room scrolling mindlessly whilst poking at your food.Â
His quiet, tired voice cuts through.Â
âSâalright if I join ya?â
Youâd been too tired, too into your phone you hadnât noticed him come in. Nodding fervently you allow him to sit opposite you, his tone of voice sounding different than it does most nights, almost resigned. You actually look at him properly, concerned.
âListen, kid. I just wanna apologise if Iâve ever done anything to make ya uncomfortable, yeah?â His eyes meet yours, intense and serious.
You pause.Â
Uncomfortable?
Fuck.Â
You were avoiding him so much he thought you didn't like him, made you uncomfortable. Your eyes widen in panic, head shaking rapidly putting your phone and fork down immediately.
âNo, god, no. Youâve neverâ thatâs not itââ Stop rambling, you tell yourself. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, you realise you need to get over yourself. âMâsorry for the way Iâve been acting. It's not you.â Your voice is quiet, avoiding his eyes.
He tilts his head down to try and meet yours again, concern on his face. His voice is so soft, when he says,
âYou sure, kid? You can tell meââ
You shake your head again, cutting him off.
âYou make me nervous.â You blurt out in one panicked breath. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and literally bring your head to the table, groaning.Â
Abbot lets out a quiet chuckle, amused.
âHoney, hey, look at me.â He coaxes trying to get you to stop wallowing in embarrassment. âPlease?âÂ
You lift your head slightly, hands covering your face, peeking at him through your fingers. Heâs smiling, like this is funny to him, like you didnât completely ruin everythingâ
âSâokay.â His expression softens, voice gentler now. âYou never gotta be nervous around me, you hear me?â
Oh.
He misunderstood, thinking you mean nervous of his authority. You can work with that, you havenât entirely humiliated yourself.
Your hands drop from your face, blush still evident on your cheeks and a shy smile creeps up. You nod in affirmation to his words letting out a deep breath.
âI want you to come to me as well, for anything. Not just Shen, Lena, or Robby. Me.â His inflection on Robbyâs name confuses you and makes you giggle a little.
The sound awakens something within Jack, without thinking, he leans over placing a hand over yours where it rests on the table.
âI mean it. Anything.â
âââââââ
He notices how you donât run from him anymore, donât push him away, let him exist within your space.Â
Youâre still nervous most of the time, but you push it away, and heâs proud. He wants you to come out of your shell with him.
One evening, Lena calls you into North 7 for a debridement, knowing how much you love mindless, repetitive tasks. It unwinds your brain, picking out thousands of tiny pieces of gravel and debris from a patient's leg, letting you let go and not have to worry about doing something wrong.
Youâre about halfway through, the only thing heard in the room is the slow hum of the patient's monitor, and Lena tidying up a cart nearby, when you hear the door open.
You frown, not enjoying having been disturbed and the loud, chaos sound of the ER filters through the door. You keep your attention laser focused onto the patient, until you hear his familiar, gentle voice, checking in.
âAll good in here?âÂ
You hesitate, stopping your motions for the first time since you started, before lifting your head up and looking at Dr. Abbot, leaning against the doorframe. Your breath hitches as you make eye contact, his focus entirely on you, not the patient. His head is tilted, and his eye contact is intense, making you nervous.
Lena scoffs to herself. Checking in, my ass.Â
âMhm.â Your sweet voice hums in affirmation, the only thing you can manage to verbalise at the moment.
Lena pauses from tidying up the cart, turning raising an eyebrow at you, oh god not you too.
âGood. Can always count on ya to keep things moving smoothly, canât I, sweetheart?â His voice is sweet, almost cooing.
Youâre starstruck. Sweetheart.Â
You blink, unable to respond, but heâs already leaving with a smug, self-assured smile like he accomplished his goal. You swallow, unable to stop the smile spreading on your face, ducking your head to hide your flushed, red face from Lena.
Walking down the hall, he recalls how much the praise got to you when he complimented your charting, and watching you now?Â
The knowledge that praise gets to you so much?
Wrecks him.Â
He feels a sense of power, knowing how much he can get you to fall apart from a few words.
âââââââ
The closer he gets, the more he observes your interactions with everyone else. Youâre just as shy and nervous with everyone too. A quiet little thing.
During shift change over one morning, a few night shift and day shift nurses and doctors are gathered gossiping about a particularly rowdy patient you had that night.Â
Youâre off to the side, included, but just about. He notices that's always the position you take, included just enough, but never in the centre, never leading, and never actively involved. He thinks maybe you just like to listen, observe, feeling more comfortable for you like that knowing how shy you are.
He frowns, because the rowdy patient theyâre on about? You were the only nurse working with him. He wasnât dangerous by any means, he was strapped to the bed. Jack would never let you in a room with a patient thatâs a danger to your safety.Â
But the group were already feeding the rumour mill, exaggerating the patients words and actions. He watches you from the corner of his eye where heâs leaning against the counter with a pen in hand, stopping his writing to watch.Â
He wants you to speak up, correct them, and join in.
He watches your eyes dart around the group, you lick your lips, breathing becoming shallower. Youâre assessing for the right time to jump in. Youâre so nervous to speak up, his heart aches.
And when you try? Youâre so quiet, no one even noticed. Immediately you were cut off.
He watches you blink, swallowing in embarrassment before collecting yourself as if you hadnât even spoken, smiling along.Â
His heart breaks.
Youâre used to this, being spoken over always happens, youâre just too quiet sometimes, better at one-on-one interactions, not groups. Though youâre a little stung, you push it away, familiar with the feeling. Sighing, you slip into your coat before silently taking your leave.Â
Just before you can head through the exit doors, he catches up with you.
âHold up, kid.â You hear him jogging slowly behind you.Â
You turn, smiling at him, he can see the tiredness and hurt in your eyes even if youâre trying to hide it.
âYou leaving without saying goodbye?â he teases lightly, his expression incredibly soft.
You dip your head shyly,Â
âDidnât think anyone would notice.â You mumble, trying to laugh it off.
His brows scrunch, a displeased look on his face, almost offended.
âI notice.â
His words are so final, so real. You just stare at him with a vulnerable expression. His words heal something deep, knowing someone cares about your presence. Youâre speechless.
He places a hand on your back guiding you outside, noticing your hesitance.
âCâmon. Let me walk ya to your bus stop, you can tell me about the rowdy patient, yeah?âÂ
You nod shyly, trying not to let your eyes well up from his care. Itâs a short distance, the sky brightening as you both walk. Heâs silent and attentive, actively listening to every word you tell him, like theyâre the most important words ever.
When you reach the stop you turn to thank him, but before you can he speaks first.
âHey. Mâproud of ya, for speaking up in there.â
You give him a little confused look shaking your head.Â
âIt didnât really feel like I did.â You laugh awkwardly, embarrassed to revisit the moment knowing he was watching.
âYou did. Iâll always listen, whatever you wanna talk about, yeah?â Your chest tightens painfully at the sincerity in his voice. You can only nod, suddenly too affected to trust your own voice.
âGânight, sweetheartâ He drapes an arm around your shoulder squeezing you before letting you board.
On the way home, your head mulls over his words, settling on one detail.
Heâs proud.
âââââââ
Being around Abbot so much recently is fucking with you, to say the least.Â
His constant praise at your actions, you begin expecting and waiting for it. Every time heâs within your vicinity, you wait for his gentle but ragged voice ushering praise.
âGood catch, sweetheart.â
âDonât know what Iâd do without ya.â
âJesus, you really make my life easier, yâknow that?â
And he always delivers.Â
Aside from the praise, heâs incredibly attentive and observant, knowing what you need exactly when you need it. Encouraging breaks any time he sees you get overwhelmed during the night, telling you to drink water, take a breather.Â
But heâs also so patient with you, like no one's ever been. With him, you begin to unlearn your fear of being judged for saying the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, because he never judges.Â
Tonight is no different.
Youâre in central 7 with Dr. Ellis, with a very panicked, frantic mother and her daughter. Her child is only around 6 years old, clearly withdrawn and quiet. Her mother explains to Dr. Ellis how sheâd been bathing her daughter that evening, when she found a large bruise on the daughterâs back and legs, suspecting her husbandâs abusing her.
You immediately make eye contact with Ellis, silently signalling that youâll call Kiara, the hospital social worker. But before you can step out to do so, a large, loud and drunk man barges through the door, angry.Â
Heâs unsteady on his feet, eyes directly narrowing onto his wife, before pushing past you and immediately going to yell at her.
âYou bitch! You have NO right bringing our daughter here without my permissionââ He yells spit flying out of his mouth, alcohol clearly on his breath
âSirââ Ellis tries to calm him down, placing a hand on his shoulder which he shrugs off.Â
âNo!â He shrugs her off
âYour permission?â The mother yells back, cutting him off in disbelief. âYouâre laying your fucking hands on my kid and you think Iâm gonna let you be near her?â Sheâs defensive, shrill, adrenaline thrumming through her.
The yelling gets to you admittedly, youâre never good whenever patients of their families raise their voices. They carry on, Ellis begging for them to keep it civil or he will be removed by security
The door opens swiftly with Dr. Abbot and a night shift security guard filtering through to de-escalate.Â
Drowning it all out, trying to not let it affect you, you turn your attention to the little girl on the bed, all hunched up scared of her parents yelling. You turn her towards you telling her to focus on you. You just try to distract her in any way possible, asking her questions about school, her friends, her hobbies. It works a little, her tiny voice whispering over her parents yells.
The father is finally removed, and the air to the room returns, silence taking over.Â
âItâs alright, youâre okay.â You comfort the girl placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, testing it beforehand to see if she pulls away.
Jack turns to you then, really looking at you. The way youâre so gentle with the girl, how your focus was on her comfort during her parents screaming match. God, he admires you. But he also picks up on your tense shoulders, the way your breathing is unsettled, your face is tighter than normal.
You step back once the mother sits by the daughterâs side comforting her, you don't realise you walk back into Jackâs hand, which now rests on the small of your back. He leans closer to you dipping down to speak into your ear,
âGo take a breather, yeah?â His voice is soft, gentle.
You look up at him to convince him youâre fine, you donât need a break. But the look in his eyes is stern, pleading: do not fight me on this.Â
âââ
Jack finds you around 5 minutes later in the stairwell, you seem to just be sitting there lost in your own head.
He approaches slowly, groaning as he sits next to you on the stairs, your shoulders touching. He speaks first,
âYou did really well there â with the girl.â He nudges your leg with his as he praises you, trying to cheer you up. You can tell heâs looking at you from the corner of your eye but you keep your eyes on your lap. Pedes cases always got to you.
âShe shouldnât have had to hear that.â Your voice is quiet, unsteady. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, but the tears build in your eyes anyways. You dip your head down further trying to hide.
âHey, sweetheart.â His voice softens, his hand settling on your knee. âTalk to me?â His voice is begging.
You lift your head to look at him, drying your eyes. âItâs stupid, really.â You shake your head quickly, trying to laugh through it. âI just donât handle yelling very well.â
âYeah. I thought so, honey.â His thumb rubs back and forth over your knee, comforting you. âThatâs not on you.â His voice is gentler now.
âI feel ridiculous.â You wipe quickly under your eyes. âI should be able to handle it better by now.â Insecurity laces your words at breaking down like this in front of an attending.
âNo.â His response is immediate, firm but gentle. âDonât start thinkinâ the answer is makinâ yourself colder.â He aches at the prospect of you removing the brightest parts of yourself, to dim your light to handle the harshness of the world. Absolutely not. He wants to shield you, be the barrier between people's cruelty and your soft, gentle heart.
Your shiny eyes meet his, vulnerability flashing through them. Without even thinking he brings his thumb to brush a stray tear from your cheek. He watches your eyes flutter close and your breath hitching at the gesture, his heart leaping.
âTake as much time as ya need. Come find me at the end of the day, Iâll take you home, yeah?â His voice grumbles, sending a jolt through you.
Your eyes open ready to protest, you canât possible accept a ride from him, thats asking too muchâ
âAh, ah, Iâm not taking no for an answer.â He smirks before standing and heading back out to the ER.
âââ
Before your shift ended that same day, you had asked Lena to show you how to work the medicine cabinet as youâd had trouble returning a vial earlier in your shift.
The day shift starts to filter through whilst Lena is describing the steps to take, making you distracted.
You see Dr. Abbot in your periphery down the hall, talking to another nurse, one you had never seen before, most likely on the day shift.
Sheâs gorgeous.
She stands tall, confident and makes him laugh. Nothing like you.Â
Your heart aches, as you stare unapologetically, completely drowning out Lenaâs voice. You watch as he also dips his head to catch her eyes, how he touches her arm, how charming he is.
It feels like your heart gave out and fell into an endless pit. Eyes flickering away slowly, realising your hope that the way he treated you was special, is just his charm. His naturally flirtatious personality.
God youâre so stupid.
Lena sighs, shaking her head before closing the cabinet and turning to you, sensing your distraction and sadness.
âHun, you donât wanna go down that route.â Her voice is firm, but motherly. Like sheâs truly trying to protect you, not wanting you to get hurt.
Your head snaps over to her wide eyed and panicked having been caught.
âOhâ no itâs not like that.â you laugh awkwardly, embarrassed but your excuse is weak and she sees through it instantly. Placing a hand on your back and directing you away from the hallway before you get in your head any longer.
âTrust me, hun. Iâve been around long enough to know, men like him donât realise the effect they have on girls like you.â
Your brows furrow at her words, girls like me? You reach the lockers before she hits the final blow.
âYouâre young, go on dates. Donât pine over old men like him, youâll only get hurt.â
She walks off, leaving you speechless. You gather your things, mulling over her words. Is she right? Have you been misreading everything, pining over a man whoâs naturally charming and kind to everyone?Â
Youâd completely forgotten Dr. Abbots offer to take you home by the time youâre walking out of the doors. Your mind is only repeating her words and reevaluating all of Abbotâs actions towards you, trying to search for when youâd started to misinterpret things.
Jack frowns watching your hunched up form walking out of the ER from where he stands and talks to Ruby. He excuses himself from the conversation, trying to catch up with you before you leave, but youâre already down the street by the time heâs at the door.
âââââââ
Just as he thought he was making progress, the rug is pulled from under him, and youâre colder than ever.Â
Youâre distant with everyone, clipped greetings and polite words the only things you mutter during your shifts. He watches how you avoid groups, but more importantly, how much harder youâve been working.
Youâve doubled your workload, trying to forget your feelings by distracting yourself. Always with a patient, never sitting down and charting, avoiding your colleagues asking you whatâs wrong. Or, avoiding where Dr. Abbot could find you and make you fall for him all over again.Â
He notices how youâre no longer early to your shifts, just right on time, jumping straight into cases. Whenever he tries to coax you into slowing down and taking breaks, you brush him off, refusing to admit you need them. But he notices the bags under your eyes, youâre pushing yourself too much and he hates it, he canât help and itâs hurting him.
But he also notices how late you stay. As you no longer chart during the day, you spend 3 to 4 hours overtime during the day shift charting. Robby allows it, sensing something going on with you but doesnât want to overstep. Occasionally, you ask to work doubles, staying to around 1-3pm during the day shifts. Itâs completely wrecking your body, but you donât want to think about anything else except work.
One evening, during shift change before you got to work, Robby pulls Jack aside.
âHey, brother, I gotta ask.â Robby glances over his shoulder towards the door, checking you hadnât arrived yet, before lowering his voice. âSomethinâ going on with her lately?â
Jackâs brows furrow instantly, worry clenching at his heart. âWhy?â
âSheâs running herself into the ground, to put it mildly.â Robby sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. âSheâs working through till the afternoon, then coming back to do it all again at night. Girl canât be getting more than a couple hours of sleep.â His expression tightens. âMâworried about her.â
Jack goes still, his stomach dropping.
He noticed, of course he noticed. He just hadnât realised how bad itâd gotten.
His jaw tightens, hand dragging tiredly across it as he sighs.
âFuck.â The word leaves him quietly.
âIâll talk to her.â
âââ
Later that night, Jack came to find you during a particularly quiet lull around 11pm. He assumes youâd be with a patient, checking with Lena before heading towards south 16. Heâs rehearsing his speech to you, over and over.
When he approaches the room, his body stops. He hears you laugh. Itâs beautiful, and he doesnât realise how much it hurt him not hearing you laugh recently.
Rounding the corner he sees you through the glass stitching up a manâs forehead, and youâre blushing. You have that bashed, shy smile as you work, the type that was reserved for Jack. You're standing close to the man from where he sits on the edge of the bed, and heâs looking up at you with desire in his eyes, clearly flirting with you. Â
He shouldnât feel jealous, but he does, insecurity clawing at his heart. The man youâre stitching up, heâs definitely closer in age to you than Jack is. He hates the way that fact digs under his skin, the sudden awareness of the years between you two. Youâre still soft, bright, and untouched by the world in ways he hasnât been for too long. He canât take his eyes off the easy smile you give the man, bitterness twisting low in his chest.
He knows he should leave, but he canât bring himself to move. Which is why when you turn, putting down the sutures, you see him outside watching you, and your body stills. He watches your face fall, and it hurts him how youâre no longer happy to be around him.
Jack sighs ready to turn and leave, but you excuse yourself from your patient and head outside to catch him.
âHeyââ Your voice is gentle and cautious, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously at Abbotâs expression. âDid you need something?âÂ
Jackâs jaw tightens as he hears your voice, trying to steady himself. This is the first time youâve chosen to speak to him in ages, and he hates how relieved and conflicted he is right now.Â
His eyes flicker behind you, to the man in the room sprawled out on the bed scrolling through his phone, and his chest tightens. Possessiveness and insecurity battle within his heart, and he doesnât even think when he blurts out a cold comment to you.
âDidnât realise we were entertaininâ patients now.â His voice is clipped, and he regrets it as soon as he says it.
He watches your face fall. Fuck.Â
Your head shakes rapidly, apologetically.Â
âI-Iâm sorryââ Your voice is meek, he canât bear that he caused this.
âJust donât let it happen again.â Jackâs voice is firm, as he walks off. He needs to leave, clearly not in his right mind, heâs hurting you and heâs completely out of line.
âââ
The way he spoke to you eats him all night, distracting him. Heâs completely unfocused during cases, Shen telling him to take a breather during a trauma, get his head right. How is he supposed to make sure youâre okay if heâs also driving you away.
He decides to start small. Around 1am he watches you exit a patient's room, pausing outside leaning against the wall. He can tell youâre exhausted by the way you hold yourself.
He slows as he approaches you, wanting to get you to slow down, take a break. Up close he can see the way your shoulders sag like the weight of the wall is the only thing keeping you together, your undereyes heavy with exhaustion. He canât remember the last time you sat down.
âHeyâ hold up.â His tone is softer, contrasting the way he spoke to you earlier. âYou eaten yet?
Your eyes flick towards him briefly, before looking away again.Â
âMâfine.â Youâre short, a little dismissive.
Jack nods awkwardly, he knows he doesnât deserve your kindness right now.
âItâs quiet, you should take your breakââ He tries but you cut him off.
âI said Iâm okay.â Though your tone has little real bite behind it, itâs still harsher than heâs ever heard it.Â
He stills, letting out a deep sigh. The silence between you both hangs in the air thickly. You wonât look at him.
Jack nods, accepting his defeat watching you walk off.Â
What he doesnât see is the guilt flooding your face.
âââ
You need to apologise. Heâs your attending and it was extremely unprofessional of you, a nurse, to speak to him that way. Guilt is clawing at your throat and you canât get rid of it.
You decide that after you finish organising the supply room with Lena, youâll find him. Explain yourself.Â
Youâre standing on a stepping stool as Lena passes you supplies to restock the shelves with.
âThat guyâ from earlier? He was a real hottie, hun.â She says while passing you a box of nitrile gloves. Your face scrunches in amusement as you let out a breathy laugh
âThat guy who got his head smashed with a beer bottle? Yeah, right. Like I need that kind of trouble in my life right now.â You joke back with Lena about the flirty guy.
âCâmon, youâre young. Live a little! Heâs insanely hot, god knows if I was 20 years younger Iâd jump his bonesââ you cut her off with a real, chesty laugh.
âLena! Youâre married!â You turn towards her with a wide smile.Â
âI can appreciate beauty when I see it, hun.â She smirks before continuing. âWhatâs the harm? Heâs still here isnât he? Go get his number, go on dates, have mind blowing sexâ just do something to get you outta this slump, yâhear me?âÂ
You sigh whilst organising the top shelf. You donât want that guy. You want Abbot.Â
What you didnât realise was Jack was walking past and heard snippets of the conversation, well, particularly Lenaâs grand speech about having mind-blowing sex with the man. He falters in his steps, realising who sheâs talking to, who sheâs talking about. The ugly, possessive feeling rears within him again. He peeks through the door, watching your face. Youâre smiling, like youâre considering it. He canât handle it. He storms off, childishly slamming the door of the next room he enters, blaming it on the draft.
You jolt at the sudden noise and frown before continuing. âI dunno, Lena.â Your voice is almost sad. âHeâs not who I want.â
âYouâre still hung up on him, arenât you, honey?â Her voice is soft, pitying. She watches your sad smile when you nod in affirmation. âMâsorry, hun. Itâll pass, I promise.â
You donât want it to pass.Â
âââ
You canât seem to find Abbot for the rest of the night, until a trauma comes in around 5:30am forcing you both into the room together.
The EMTs roll the patient in on a gurney as you jog over to Trauma 1, reading off his vitals. Fuck, itâs a kid.
âPediatric MVC, eight-year-old male, unrestrained passenger. Vehicle rolled twice after being T-boned at a high speed. Drunk driver.â The EMT scoffs.
You begin to glove up as you walk alongside the stretcher, Jack on the other side, his eyes land on you as he actively listens to the EMT, his gaze feels as if he was assessing you.Â
âInitial GCS was 10 on scene, refrained from intubation. BP 80/52, heart rate 145, satting 92 percent on non-rebreather.â
You watch Abbot nod, cutting through the patient's clothes as Ellis and Shen check current vitals and assess internal injuries. You end up stationed directly behind him, ready to hand him what he needs. But him in action is making you nervous, like he doesnât want you here.
The EMT cuts in. âFather pronounced dead on scene, mother inbound, no obvious injuries.âÂ
âDecreased breath sounds on the left side, significant bruising across the abdomen and chest. Patient increasingly lethargic.â Abbot begins his assessment. But is being drowned out by an increasingly loud scream from the floor outside the room, his mother arriving.Â
She rushes to the doors, doctors encourage her to wait outside but she barges in regardless. Her sobs and yells for the doctors to save her son cut through the room, loud and distracting. You take a deep breath at the sound trying to focus, remain unaffected by the scene, present.
Abbotâs jaw tightens as the room erupts around him. The motherâs wailing to his right, monitors beeping rapidly as the boy gets worse, the blood coating his gloves as he presses harder against the kidâs abdomen.
âPressureâs dropping.â
âBP 78/40.â
âWeâre losing him, Abbot.â
Fuck. Each sound and sensation cramming for dominance within his skull, overriding his focus.
And then he glances behind at you, where the station is set up ready for you to hand him things. But youâre spaced out, wide-eyed and pale, clearly overwhelmed by the sounds of the boy crying in pain and grief for his father, the motherâs wailing. Jackâs chest twitches violently. One thing at a time. Save the boy.
âGet her out!â He yells across the room, his voice loud and booming, a couple nurses urge for the mother to wait outside.
But he canât focus with you standing there looking wrecked, your hands shaking. His focus should be on the boy, not you.
âGauze.â He commands, a hand outstretched towards you.
Nothing.
The gauze finally hits his hand, a few seconds delayed.
His pulse spikes, the room suddenly feeling too loud. Your presence pressing against the back of his skull.
He snaps.
âI canât afford hesitation right now.â Jackâs voice cuts sharply across the room, eyes snapping to yours. âIf you canât keep up, leave.âÂ
You feel like youâve stopped breathing. The room goes painfully quiet, heat rushing to your face instantly at the humiliation.
Your chest feels like itâs caving, shame burning beneath your skin. You swallow hard, blinking rapidly, staving off tears.
You nod once, unable to trust your voice, before stripping off your gloves with trembling fingers backing away from the table.
Another nurse takes over flawlessly, the room continuing like normal around you. You exit the room, tears burning your eyes and threatening to fall.
Lena sees your shaken state from across the room, beginning to make her way over to you. But you duck, scuttling away to lock yourself in the toilet. Needing to break down in private.
You sink against the wall, sliding down until your head rests on your knees.
You know heâs right, you shouldnât have hesitated. Your throat tightens.
The boy couldâve died because you froze. He still might. For what? Because Abbot didnât want you near him anymore? Because the sounds of the boysâ mother screaming cracked something open inside of you?
Abbotâs words replay over and over in your head as self-punishment, as you sob into your hands.
 âââ
Jack regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.Â
He watches your face crumple in devastation and it almost knocks the breath from his lungs.
Your teary eyes flicker away, avoiding his fiery gaze. He hates that heâs the one who put those tears there, made you cry. He never wants to be the reason for your pain.Â
He watches you nod, so meekly it hurts his heart, the tremble in your hands when you pull off your gloves. Every instinct in him screams to go after you. He canât. He turns back to the table, continuing to work on the boy even more distracted than he was before.
âââ
You manage to gather yourself not long after, exiting the bathroom and ignoring Lenaâs concerned looks, just searching for a simple case to get your mind off what happened. You can hear the chaos continuing in Trauma 1, still working on the boy.
Lena assigns you to a wound debridement, a simple task to recalibrate and gather your thoughts.Â
You set up your tool table beside you, and youâre lucky your patient isnât a chatty one. His arm rests on the bed, skin burnt red and white.Â
Youâre utterly exhausted, emotionally spent. Too in your own head to notice how cramped your fingers get around the scalpel.
You try to reposition your grip, but the blade unexpectedly slips from your grasp, falling and slicing a clean gash from your hand down your arm. Pain slices hot and immediate.Â
âShitââ
The scalpel clatters into the tray as blood begins to well. Your vision blurs for half a second, before you jerk back sharply, hissing from the sudden pain
âOh shit you okay, lady?â You hear the patient ask, but youâre already halfway out the room, asking Matteo to finish your case before entering an empty room to sort yourself out.
âGod fucking damn it, piece of shitââ You curse violently, voice breaking, trying to hold back tears yet again, whilst setting up the equipment you need to clean your cut.
Your heart beats violently, embarrassed at fucking up yet another thing. Abbot cannot know, he cannot have another thing to chew you out over.
Youâre not that lucky.
âHey, listen, I wanted to say thatâ what the fuck?â Jackâs voice is shocked when he glances down at your bleeding arm from where he stands at the door.
Your head whips around immediately, eyes wide and panicked but you donât speak or move. Fear wraps around your heart knowing youâre going to get scolded for being distracted, getting yourself hurt, or creating unnecessary paperwork for the hospital.
The sight of your bleeding arm disturbs him. But what hurts more is the way you look at him, wrecked and terrified, like a child that just got caught for doing something wrong, more worried about his reaction than the fact youâre hurt. He shakes his head stepping inside fully making his way to you.
âSit.â He commands, his voice tight, clipped.
Your breath hitches at his tone, interpreting it as annoyance for having to deal with this, but you do as he says, not wanting to make things worse.
âYou donât have toââ You attempt to say youâre fine, you donât need help, itâs a small cut. But when you look into his eyes, you pause, thereâs something softer behind them, concern.Â
âYeah. I do.â His voice is gentle and strained like it pains him youâre trying to hide your hurt.
You watch his face as he washes out your cut and stops the bleeding. You canât read him. He avoids your eyes, focusing solely on your injury, you watch as he clenches his jaw and swallows.
He canât look into your eyes again, the broken teary look youâre adorning right now would completely break him. He feels your pulse thrumming from where he holds your wrist, shaky breaths like youâre trying not to cry in front of him.
âThisâll stingââ He warns gently before bringing a cold disinfectant wipe to your cut. He cleans it so gently, so carefully, you realise how much youâve missed him. His touch, his care, his smell.
You hiss slightly at the alcohol stinging, and he quickly retracts, gaze flicking to meet yours worried.
âIâve got you.â He coos, rubbing a thumb back and forth against your hand, avoiding your injury. âYouâre alright, sweetheart.â
His soft tone breaks the flood gate, tears flowing freely and you sob. Hard.
âMâso sorry.â Your voice breaks, blurting out apologies, as you try to catch your breath. âIâm sorry, pleaseââ
His heart shatters at the sound, immediately setting the wipes down and cupping your face.
âHeyâ No. No, honey. Donât.â His warm hands ground you, wiping the tears as they fall. He canât stand the sight of you falling apart in front of him.
You shake your head. âI keep fucking upââ you whisper brokenly, your expression apologetic.
âGod, câmere.â He coos bringing your head to his chest rubbing his hand on your back. âYou got nothinâ to apologise for, yâhear me?Â
His chest aches at your cries, knowing he led you to this, knowing he hurt such a sweet girl. His sweet girl.Â
âI shoulda never yelled at ya, it werenât right.â His voice vibrates through your body against him, sniffling into his chest. âYou get that? You did nothing wrong, baby.â
Baby.
He pulls back cupping your face again, eyes intense and searching. Searching for something in your eyes that tells him you understand him, that you know you didnât do anything wrong.
âIs heâ is the kidââ You choke out, genuinely terrified that your slip-up had cost the kid his life, and had cost the mother losing both loves of her lives on the same night.
Jack shakes his head quickly, dismissing your worry. âHeâs good, heâs stable. Dontcha worry about that. I let shit get to me, yeah? Not on you.â
You sniffle, breathing jagged as you settle down. The kid will be okay. Abbot isnât mad at you. His hand lifts from your cheek to smooth down your hair on your forehead, tucking it backwards. Looking at you like you're precious.Â
Unexpectedly, he brings his forehead to rest on yours, whispering:
âI never wanna make you feel like that.â His voice wavers slightly, but you notice. âNever again.â
You stop breathing at his proximity. Realisation crashing down at how stupid youâd been to avoid him all this time, to let insecurity overrun your thoughts. His lips are so close to yours.
âJackââ You practically whimper his name.Â
His breath hitches, searching your eyes before leaning in slowly.Â
He presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, testing.
Instinctively, you turn your head towards his lips.
You both pause, staring at each other and breathing heavily. He watches as you dart your tongue out, licking your lips nervously, and he breaks.
He crashes his lips to yours.
Itâs hungry, full of apology, and devotion. He brings a hand to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Electric sparks fly down your spine, your mind turning to mush. The emotional toll of the day mixing with the high of finally kissing Jack, you melt.Â
He finally pulls away, after needing to catch his breath, not because he wants to stop kissing you. Heâd kiss you for the rest of the night, if he could.Â
He takes in your flushed state, catching your breath and looking at him with so much trust. Your red cheeks, dazed and glossy eyes, and plump red lips and he lets a sound akin to a growl out. The look wrecks him.Â
He shakes his head, pressing a short, quick kiss to your hair before physically stepping back before going too far with you.Â
âI didnâtâ I convinced myself you didnât want me like that.â Your whisper breaks the silence. âI couldnât be around you, it hurt too much.âÂ
Oh.Â
He swallows the lump in his throat before nodding. He understands. Why you avoided him all this time, you must have been going crazy. Hell, youâd affected him so much tonight he snapped. He canât imagine what living like that for so long would do to you.
âYou donât gotta explain, sweetheart.â He brings the chair to sit in front of you on the bed, and he takes your hands in his, bringing a small kiss to your knuckles. âBut you scared me, doll. You gotta take care of yourself.âÂ
Your gaze flickers downwards a little embarrassed, nodding
He turns your injured hand over in his, nodding his head towards it before gently asking.
âHowâd this happen?â He refocuses on cleaning and assessing if itâs deep enough for a bandage or stitches.Â
âWasnâtââ You pause, recalling how he scolded you last time for being distracted, shaking off your fear, you continue. âWasnât paying attention, cutting off patients' dead skin. Hand cramped nâ tried to fix it, blade slipped.â
He takes in a deep breath hearing your shaky explanation.Â
âWhy didnât ya tell someone, hmm?â He speaks softly, his attention focused on placing small little butterfly bandages along the cut.
You shrug. âWasnât thinking straight. Was overwhelmed, on the verge of crying again. Just needed to be alone.âÂ
Crying, again. He hates the recollection that he made you cry that night. That after you had left the trauma room, youâd broken down alone.
He places the last bandage on, setting down the equipment and turning to you once more, placing a hand on your thigh.
âYou always come to me when youâre hurting, yeah? I hate that I didnât know, baby. Hate you were hurt and you tried to deal with this alone.â He begs, squeezing your thigh.Â
He sighs in relief as he sees your small nod. âGood.âÂ
He places a small, gentle kiss over your cut. âThere we go, all fixed up, my sweet girl.âÂ
You flush red, a shy smile taking over your face before you can stop it, letting out a small laugh of disbelief.
âThere she is.â He coos at your smile.
âââââââ
After a few months of dating, Jack took a sabbatical, and asked you to go with him.
It was his way of an apology, for snapping at his sweet girl, taking you away from the place that youâd been running yourself into the ground for.
He didnât tell you much, just to pack your cutest dresses. You obeyed mindlessly, trusting him completely. Truthfully, he couldnât get enough of seeing you in sundresses after one particular picnic date where he couldnât keep his eyes off you, or hands. Needless to say, the date ended early, with Jack driving you back to his place to tear off the sundress.
Youâre leaning against Jack in his truck as he drives through the country. He had specifically chosen to bring this truck due to its bench seats, needing a hand on you at all times.Â
The warm breeze filters through the truck windows, and you hum gently along to the faint country rock playing through the truck radio, Jack tapping his fingers against the wheel along with the beat.Â
Everything felt perfect, domestic, calm.
Until you get deeper into country backroads.Â
You frown the first time you drive by a small animal on the side of the road, clearly roadkill. It disturbs something in your stomach, seeing the bloody mangled animal alone. You try to push it down, focus on Jack, the trip.
Until you seem to keep passing more animals.Â
Deer.
Squirrels.
Rabbits.
Foxes.
Every animal seems to twist your heart more and more, saddening you so deeply, wishing you could protect the babies that died alone.Â
Jack, observant as he is, feels you go quiet against his shoulder. No longer humming or drumming your feet with the music, just looking straight ahead into the dashboard, stiff. Something had set his girl off. He brings his hand that rested on the gear stick onto your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, checking in on you.Â
His hand is warm where it rests on your thigh, grounding, as he coos, âTalk to me, sweetheart.â He glances over briefly before looking back at the road. âWhatâs got my pretty girl all quiet, hmm?â he says, softly.
Your stomach flips, of course he notices. Heâs so in tune with your tells by now, you couldnât even hide it if you tried. You whine a little embarrassed, turning to hide your face into his side.Â
His heart aches at the small, sweet noise you make and his grip tightens protectively on your thigh. Sensing your shyness, his thumb starts rubbing back and forth on your leg.Â
âDonât hide from me, my sweet girl,â his voice is gentle and sweet, the tone he uses when he knows something is bothering you. Gentle fingers tip your chin upwards to meet his eyes momentarily, your stomach twisting as he brushes the hair behind your ear, a silent plea: tell me.
Hesitating, feeling shy and not wanting to ruin the trip you tell him, âItâs nothing, really, Itâs the animalsââ, your breath hitches as Jack drives by another dead deer on the side of the road. Your voice breaks before continuing, âIt hurtsâ, you whisper sadly whilst immediately ducking your head to not look out the window for too long, the scene disturbing you.
Oh. Realisation floods Jackâs face and his heart clenches, oh, his sweet, sensitive baby.Â
You hear Jack breathe out a small sigh, before dipping his head and placing a small gentle kiss to your forehead.
âYeah? Thatâs whatâs gotten my girl all upset?â his voice soothing and rubs his hand up and down your thigh in comfort. Your stomach twists at his sigh, unsure if heâs silently judging.
âThey might have had family or friends waiting for them!ââ your voice is whiny, desperate for him to understand as deeply as you do why youâre upset. You sniffle a little, trying not to let tears fall.Â
Jack blinks, trying not to laugh at his sensitive girl, knowing itâll upset you more. He doesnât mean to find it amusing, but your true devastation over deer and squirrels having family and friends, he canât help but let out a low chuckle.
âYouâre right baby, mâsure theyâre sat around the dinner table, waiting for âim to come home.â He teases gently a smirk playing at his lips.Â
âJaaaaack! Itâs not funny,â you pout petulantly, hurt. You shift away from his side, scooting over to the other side of the truck, feeling dismissed.Â
Jack shushes you quickly, grabbing you by your shoulders before you move away, hating the way you curl in on yourself so easily. He pulls you back into his side, coaxing an apology.Â
âMâsorry, baby, câmere.â Heâs still smirking a little, but knowing he may have teased too much in your sensitive state, he needs to calm you down.
You feel him pepper quick kisses to your forehead, whilst rubbing the back of your neck gently. Your body relaxes instantly at the touch.Â
You sniffle a little calming down, wrapping your arms around his middle.
âShh, baby, I know, I know.â He says, his voice softer now, before continuing. âI was so mean for teasing my delicate girl, yeah?â His inflection rises at the end of his question, like he was comforting a small kitten.
Sniffling, you nod at his comfort. âYou know I love how my sweet baby feels everything deeply.â he croons, and you feel him run his fingers at the nape of your neck into your hair, petting you.
âYou just keep your eyes on me, yeah? Focus on me for the rest of the trip.â He commands gently, shielding you away from the hurt of the world.
The low music continues to hum in the car, yours and Jackâs breathing matching as you sit quietly soaking the evening breeze.
Gravel crunches as you pull up to the cabin, you notice he doesnât make a move to exit the truck yet. You frown, worried, is something wrong? Before you can even ask him, Jack breaks the silence, with such a soft tone it's unexpected.
âSâwhy youâre my favourite nurse, babyâ. You falter, his words stirring something in your stomach, his praise making you shy. You feel him draping his arm around your waist and tugging you into his lap, straddling him.
Unable to avoid his intense eye contact, you duck your head shyly, quietly asking, âWhat is?â
For the life of you, you canât figure out what he means. He ducks his head following yours to look into your eyes, cupping your face.
His voice is low, serious, when he speaks. âYour sensitivity, compassion, empathy.âÂ
You swallow the lump in your throat, uneasy by the intensity of his praise. Tucking your head into his neck to hide your shyness, you quipâ âItâs not the sex?â
You hear him chuckle, the vibration running through your body.
âYou were my favourite before the sex smartassâ no, you have a big heart, biggest Iâve ever known, you care deeply.â You feel him guide your head out of his neck, needing to see your face, his thumbs brush against your cheeks as he watches your wide, doe eyes trying to accept the praise.
âPlenty of other nurses and doctors are empathetic.â You begin shyly, trying to brush the compliment off, uneasy by how seen he was making you feel. Always having been told your sensitivity is a curse, especially in this field, and itâll wear you down.Â
Jack immediately interjects, not enjoying how quick you are to self deprecate, diminish yourself.
âNot like you, baby.â His voice is stern, as are his hands gripping your face. Desperate for you to see yourself the way he does.Â
Those three simple words cut deep, your eyes watering from so much care. He wipes the tears before they fall and watches a shy smile tugging at your lips, hitting him like a punch to the chest.Â
âYou hear me, baby? Hmm?â he coos gently while pressing a kiss against your temple. You nod in his hold, cheeks flushed from receiving so much affection, never having been treated so carefully before.
âYouâre mâfavourite attending.â You mumble shyly fidgeting with your hands in your lap.
Jack laughs deeply, he knows, of course he knows. He just hadnât expected that to be what you said. He finds your tone so cute, like you're too shy to admit it.
âOh yeah? Sânot Robby?â He teases, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, laughing again at your scrunched up face, like the idea is ridiculous to you.
âI know, sweetheart.â He calms you, presses a final, soft kiss to your temple and brings you closer to his embrace.
Outside, the sun sets as crickets chirp around you, the air gets cooler but neither of you rushes to leave the car yet, this moment meaning something so deep to the both of you.
â
Jack is setting down the last of the bags in the bedroom when he hears you yelp from the bathroom. Before he can even ask if youâre okay, you call out for him, your voice startled and afraid.
âJack!â
His heart jumps, and his mind immediately rushes to the worst idea, that youâre hurt somehow.Â
Jack runs to the bathroom panicked, âBaby, whatâsââ he calls out in fear, until he enters the room, and pauses, blinking.Â
Youâre crouching on the toilet seat like the floor is lava, with one shoe off, in your hand, looking around the floor terrified. You meet his eyes, genuine fear behind them,
âI swear, it's taunting me! It looked me right in the eyes!â you whisper urgently pointing at the small bug in the corner of the room.
Jack laughs for real this time, tilting his head affectionately, âbaby, what are you doing?â
You screech as you watch the tiny dark bug scuttle along the bathroom floor and chuck your shoe at it, completely missing it.
âPleaseâ kill it, quick!â you beg himÂ
He smirks at you from where he leans against the bathroom door frame, crossing his arms, and taunts you, âWhat if his family is waiting for him to come home, hmm?â
You groan as Jack points out your hypocrisy, squealing again as you watch it come towards you. âJack, I swear to godââ
He hangs his head in, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face before he walks over and stomps on it. He picks you up into his arms and mumbles into your hair.
âYeah, youâre not lasting ten minutes out here, sweetheart.â

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"it's just stress" oh thank god, it's just the silent killer that slowly kills you, perfectly harmless, no need to worry




