Weird Girl (Jack Abbot)
MDNI - 18+
a/n: this is based off of an ask seen here, i completely understand it as someone who works in death care. this is lowkey a self insert bc i'm a mortician and i talk to my dead folks all the time. also fun fact: er doctors cannot sign death certificates!
CONTENTS: dr. jack abbot x morgue worker! age gap! f! reader, enemies to lovers (one sided), everyone thinks you're the "weird girl", dead body mentions, smut, unprotected p in v
SUMMARY: you work in the morgue at ptmc. everyone, including jack, thinks you're weird. that is until he lashes out at you and makes a point to apologize.
Word Count: 2.6k+
"Hey Dana," Robby peeks his head out from the trauma room. "Morticia will be up here in 20 minutes to grab this guy, can you round up some nurses for morgue prep?"
"You got it, cap!" Dana shouted back.
Morticia was your nickname to the ED, basically the fucking grim reaper. The ED not even bothering to ask you your name.
"Ugh, I hate it when she comes up here," Perlah huffed, attaching the ID tag to the body bag.
"What do you mean?" Emma asked.
"She's just weird, and she's just oh so happy all the time," Perlah continued. "Like one of our patients just died, we're upset, stop trying to cheer us up."
"Maybe that's what she's meant to do, pick up our spirits when we're down."
That's Emma, always kind and understanding.
The nurses whipped their heads around the minute they heard the knock on the glass door, your bright bubbly smile lighting up your face as you waved eagerly. Perlah turned back towards to the body bag, rolling her eyes as she sighed deeply.
"Hey, Mister Roberts," you smiling as you greeted the covered body laying on the hospital bed. "We'll take good care of ya! Thanks Perlah and Emma is it?"
"Yes, um, nice to meet you," Emma reluctant to grip your bare hand after knowing that you deal with dead bodies all day.
"Oh, come on! I don't bite!"
She lightly shook your hand, your grip strong and intentional in hers.
Meanwhile, Jack and Robby perched on the nurses station, watching you closely.
"God, I can't fucking stand her," Robby said as he raked his hands over his face. "She's so fucking disrespectful."
"Couldn't agree more, brother," Jack chimed in. "Her bubbly ass needs to stay in the basement."
"Oh, she isn't that bad," Dana piped up. "You boys need to watch your mouths."
At that time, you started to wheel the hospital bed towards the elevator.
"Sorry, Mister Roberts. We gotta take a little journey downstairs, but you'll be safe there. I promise."
With that, your eyes settled on Jack. His strong arms peeking beneath the fabric of his scrubs, his silver curls sparkling below the harsh lighting. You turned away, the stare making your cheeks grow hot, a hard swallow running down your throat.
Before you departed, you waved happily to the day shift crew.
"Until next time!"
No one said a word at your kind goodbye, until Dana filled the silence.
"See ya later, sweetheart!"
This was typical of every interaction you had with the ED, always trying to befriend the day shift residents and nurses, but being shut down every time. It didn't help that your crush on the night shift attending was put into the mix, him hardly speaking to you most of the time when you tried to make him laugh with one of your lame jokes. It would lead to your mind racing as you checked in the decedent, transferring and sliding the gentleman into the morgue cooler.
You'd sit there at your desk, alone and in the damp morgue while you typed, filling out the necessary paperwork. You always wondered where you went wrong. Sure, you were the bubbly type, especially in the department you worked in. You always tried your best to cheer up the constant frowny faces that passed by you. You were doing a service, treating the dead with respect and always attempting to turn those frowns turn upside down.
It wasn't until the next time you returned, shyly sneaking in, no one paying any mind to you. Jack Abbot standing there, taking a breather in the "mostly" empty room. You'd meet him in the empty trauma room, the body remaining alone on the bed and his face slightly twitching to a frown.
"Y'know, even though they're gone," you mentioned, your hands clasped together. "They're always around here, in the ED. I see them, they appreciate your work."
This would push Jack over the edge, already losing three patients during the night shift. Him knowing he has to pass of the signature of the death certificate to some mindless doctor, even though he saw the diagnosis fist thing on hand.
His crash out present and demanding.
"You can't just do that shit," Jack gritted out. "You can't be here, all cute and nice. Do you understand we just lost a patient?! Is that not clear to you?!"
You gulped at his harsh words, your eyes not knowing where to lay, whether it was the dead body or his. His words filled you with major anxiety, not knowing how to react. You rushed out of the room, hospital bed in tow, once again following through with the countless procedures of registering the body in the morgue.
You had already had two days off, taking an extra day purely because of the exchange with Jack. Jack noticed too, less of "Morticia" coming around. Especially during the nighttime, his patients being taken out by your counterpart, passing by as their families would up and leave to get some rest for the night.
Though you were annoying, you were always present, always around when needed. The moment Jack called to the morgue, noticing your voice not picking up over the phone, he grew even more worried.
"Where's Morticia?" he asked.
Shen shrugged, not blinking an eye as he took a pull from his coffee.
"Thought you found her annoying? What? Got a crush, Abbot?" Shen smirked.
Jack flushed at this, the red spots becoming blotchy along his neck and cheeks. He looked down, sighing at his boots.
Jack sort of missed your bouncing figure around his ED. Especially when things were turning for the worst on a shift. How your sunshine personality could light up the darkness of the nightcrawlers, them feeling discouraged and relentless.
"I don't have a crush, Shen."
"Whatever you say, dude," Shen said, holding his hands up in defeat. "I don't know what weird freaky shit you're into, especially with her."
Then, two days later, you once again entered the ED. You thought you were safe with the fact it was 9:00 am, day shift constant and present. However, there he was, Dr. Jack Abbot. His eyes met your pacing figure the minute you stepped in. Him slightly limping as he followed you, his residual limb completely exhausted as the fifteenth hour of his shift passed by.
"Hey," Jack piped up, following you into the space that was divided by the curtain. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"No," your voice suddenly becoming gruff. "I gotta take this sweet lady downstairs and another in the ICU." You were unlocking the breaks of the hospital bed the minute Jack gripped you by both shoulders, forcing you to meet his concerned face.
"They can wait," he uttered out. "Besides they're dead."
"Wow," you chuckled, your brows slightly furrowing. "And I'm told I'm disrespectful."
"Listen," he began. "I'm sorry for what I said the other day. I think I was just in the heat of the moment. I mean, after all, I was a military medic for four years. I did what you did, a million years ago, before you were even born, sweetheart."
Your soft apple bobbed in your throat then, you straying away from his gaze.
"Hey, look at me," he said, drawing your attention. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I admire every bit of the work you do, I know how hard it can be."
"Thanks," you muttered. "I appreciate it."
"So, are we okay?" Jack asked, once again trailing behind your quick footsteps. "You still seem angry."
"Not angry, Dr. Abbot," you huffed. "Just have a lot of work to do."
The elevator doors opened, you swinging the wheels of the hospital bed to where it sat proper in the elevator. The doors started to close, Jack's muscular arm suddenly stopping the doors.
"Have a drink with me."
"What?" you laughed. "Dr. Abbot, you can't be serious."
"I am."
"You don't even know my name," you hiss. "No one does."
"Oh, trust me, sweetheart," he said, a smug look gracing his face, winking at you briefly. "I know who you are."
"Fine, fuck—," your eye contact with him faltering once again. "I get off at six, you pick me up from here, yeah?"
Oh, so you were that type, huh? Always demanding.
"I'll be here," Jack's lips twisted into a curve. "I promise."
And he was, actually pulling into the parking lot of PTMC right at 5:45 pm. His body was propped against the back of his vintage truck, waiting for you. He was dressed nice too, a button up adorning his strong torso, slacks to match, knowing he'd only be taking you to his favorite dive bar.
You came out of the ambulance bay, your freshly spayed perfume trying to hide the smell of death. Your backpack resting heavily on your shoulders.
"Let me," Jack rasped, shrugging the straps of your bag off of you.
Then leading you to the passenger side of his big ole' truck, him tugging the door open for you. You placed yourself on the passenger seat, Jack slightly limping as he hopped into his vehicle.
It wasn't until Jack placed his arm on the headrest of your seat while he backed out of the parking spot, you taking in his cologne that danced along his wrist, making you almost feel intoxicated. Jack noticed how you fiddled with your thumbs, all small in the seat beside him.
"You okay, doll?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah," you shook your head, trying to reassure yourself. "Just never really go out, no one really likes to hang out around me."
"Let me change that," Jack placed his hand on your thigh, your muscle tensing under his touch. "Relax, sweetheart. It's only me."
It's only him. The man you've had a crush on for a little over a year now. Someone whom he didn't respect until your noticeable absence. The man who didn't give two shits about you.
Once you got to the bar, your legs were draped across the bar stool, focusing on the untouched drink in front of you. Jack noticed your constant bouncing leg, growing restless under you.
"I'm sorry again, sweetheart," Jack swallowed. "I don't want to be mean to you, I don't like being mean."
Your eyes met his, slightly glassy. Tears prickled, knowing you were literally a tier below him since you worked in the basement. You could never meet his level. With that, no one wanted to. You had always noticed how Santos would pay no mind to you, or how even Mel would just walk past you, completely ignoring you.
Pathetic.
"Jack," you choked out, beginning to spill. "Just admit it, you're here because you feel bad for me."
"No, not at all," he said, nursing his beer. "In the days you were gone, I kind of…"
He trailed off slightly.
"…grew to miss you."
It was weird, yet so like him. He was one to pick up on the little details, especially noticing a coworker's absence. You practically shook the minute your lips met his, drawing him into an enticing kiss. It would go on like that for a while, making out at the bar while the other patrons stared and ogled at you both.
Jack placed his thumb along your chin, pulling you away slightly.
"Can I take you home?"
"Yes," you whispered. "Please."
Even though the smell of decay graced his nostrils, he still pulled you into his large apartment. The moment the door swung close, he pressed your back into it, one leg hung around his hip. You were fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, him toying with your scrub top and undershirt. You both were there, topless, and oh so needy. Your tongue raked across his, drawing his mouth further into yours.
His tongue laced the expanse of your neck with hot kisses, slightly sucking on the flesh. Marking you for all of ED to question the next day when you would pick up the next patient. Hard to believe someone can adore the weird girl like this. The cold metal of his wedding ring, absent with meaning, yet cool against your cheek.
You groaned into his mouth the minute he palmed your clothed crotch. You jerking his hips closer to you, his half hard junk pressing into your center. Your arms would be wrapped around his neck, feeling the harsh lines and wrinkles that adorned his freckled skin.
He'd carry you, slightly wavering under his prosthetic. He'd push you into the soft mattress. Him disregarding your scrub bottoms, laying abandoned on the floor. All while you unbuttoned his slacks, slightly freeing him of his restraint.
He wanted to take his time with you. For one, he hadn't done this in a while, a woman in his bed. Second, with him growing older, his cock didn't work all that great anymore. Yet for you, it was ripe and ready more than ever, pre cum bubbling from the flush head.
He followed your movements, undressing his cock for you. His fingers ramming into your cunt beyond the barrier of your panties. The warmth only made his length grow even more solid. You moaned beneath him as his digits curled into your wetness.
It was warm and tight, the digits thrusting into your folds. Your jaw fell slack at the movements, you bowing and bending beneath his touch while he released himself free. He'd fist his cock, so big even in his large hands. It was a sight, him jerking himself off while he pumped his fingers into your pussy.
"That's it, be a good girl for me, yeah?"
Oh and you would be, your thighs splayed, exposing your glittery cunt to him. He'd moan as he pumped himself, running his inches along the slick folds. Jack, who would sweep his length along your clit, your wetness meeting his own, lubing you up for even more of him.
"Tell me you want me to fuck you," his words hovering heavily above your mouth. "C'mon, say it, sweetheart."
"Yes, Jackie," you whimpered. "Want you to fuck me."
He would, diving deep inside your beckoning walls, moaning at the feeling of how he filled you up. He would sit there for a moment, taking in how your hips would buck against his own. His thumb fiddled with your begging bud while he pumped his hips into you, stretching you with every thrust.
His nails dug into your sides, whether it was at your waist or the fat of your hips. The slight angle of him leaning on his good leg adding to the pleasure. Little moans leaked from your chest.
"Fuck—, baby," he hissed. "Keep making those pretty sounds for me, need to hear you."
Here he was, fucking the weird girl. Robby would probably notice the post sex glow from Abbot, especially with the fact that he hadn't gotten any action in ages. Oh geez, and a pretty little thing like you? That would be a whole story, an HR nightmare.
You constricted around him, tightening around his helpless thrusts. It made Jack place his hand at your side, steadying himself against his bed. His fingers still playing with your clit, making your hips ride into his digits and draw his length deeper into you.
He crushed his lips into yours while he dived into you. The hilt of his cock meeting the hairs that decorated your pussy.
"Jackie—, nngh!" you exclaimed. "I'm gonna c-cum."
"Yeah? Gonna cum around this old man's cock?"
"Yes—," you gritted out. "Fuck, yes—. Oh my god, you feel so good inside me."
"Fuck, cum for me, weird girl."
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