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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I would absolutely LOVE a throuple, like full on three way relationship. Not just a hook up with two friends who may or may not be into each other. I want commitment, love and care from the three of them. And the hardships that comes with that. I'm talking society, work, friends, family, even each other... It's a great topic to explore, especially with the chemistry these three have.
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Also, all jokes aside... I really love the way the look at each other because they are two little boys who used to race together and grew up to fulfill their dreams and now both of them have their own little family too. And they did it all basically together. They watched each other grow. It's beautiful
If I had a nickel every time you brought up the lestappen raining testing day, I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Summary: Because of bad experiences with men, you don't think that someone could actually like you in a romantic way, and because of that, you don't notice how your attending is down so bad for you.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.
You were always that friend that men didn't ask out or ask for your number, but they did for your friends. Since high school, you liked a boy and they just approached you to talk about your friends, if they were single, what they liked, or if you thought they would accept going out with them. You wanted to scream every time it happened, but instead you smiled and answered back even if it broke your heart every single time.
So now, as an adult, when a man flirts with you or compliments you, you don't think they are actually flirting or meaning the compliments, becauseâŚ
Why would they?
It's something that has grown in your head, with time and more men that have dismissed you for someone else or asked to date one of your friends. So when your attending, Jack Abbot, starts to flirt with you very subtly, you actually don't notice because, in your mind, no one would do that and you just thought that it was him being friendly.
How he always knew when you needed coffee at a specific time on your shift and he always got that for you on time when you were just thinking about getting one. How he always got it right, the way you liked your coffee.
Also, Jack could be a little grumpy sometimes, answering a little sharply to anyone but you. He was always sweet and talked to you with a half smile and a shine in his hazel eyes that everybody noticed.
Everyone except you.
And you wouldn't have if it wasn't for Ellis.
She approached you in the middle of your shift as always, you were doing your charts and she probably just wanted to mess around. After some chat, she dropped it, no warning or anesthesia.
âBut Abbot is in love with you.â She just said it like it was common knowledge.
You froze, your fingers stopped answering you, you looked at her trying to find out if she's joking and when you saw how totally serious she was, you panicked, that couldn't be true, it wasn't possible, all his gestures were friendly, what would he even look at you for? Definitely not more than friends, you told yourself that you didn't fit with him, he was too handsome.
âYou know it, right?â Parker asked after seeing your stunned face.
You just looked at her, wide eyes and red faced.
âGirl⌠that man is on his knees for you.â She was as stunned as you but for a different reason.
You actually didn't know.
âHave you ever seen him bring coffee to any of us? Let alone get our preferred order right? Give us a soft tone when he's instructing or annoyed. And I can go on and on all night long.â
She left you there because a trauma was coming in. You weren't able to move or think straight. You just repeated to yourself that it wasn't true, that Ellis was messing around with you. But every time you looked at Jack, her words repeated in your mind and you wished they were true and that couldn't happen.
Every time you let yourself have a crush or fall for someone, it ended up with you being rejected, hurt in the most painful way. And when Parker's words wouldn't leave your mind, you started to avoid your attending, running away from every room where he was before he could approach you or direct a single word at you. You presented your cases to Shen or Cruz until it became evident that you were avoiding him.
You didn't leave Jack a choice, not knowing what he did for you to not let him go near you; it was killing him. He made sure to follow every move you made until you grabbed your things and said goodbye to everyone except him. He followed you quickly to the parking lot and didn't give you a chance to run away from him.
âHey, can we talk?â he stopped you before you could reach your car keys.
âI've got to goâŚâ
âDid I do something?â he asked nervously.
You didn't look at him, trying to stop the butterflies in your stomach and Parker's words repeated in your mind.
âNo,â you mumbled.
âThen why are you avoiding me?â he insisted, trying to understand what could have possibly happened to make you avoid just him.
âIâm not,â you whispered, trying not to focus on the warmth of his hand on your arm.
âDonât lie to me, sweetheart.â
The pet name made shivers go down your back and again you tried to convince yourself that he could possibly say that to any other woman.
âIâm not.â
âDid I say something?â he was more desperate this time. âWhatever I said to hurt you, I didn't mean it that way, Iââ
âYou didn't say anything wrong,â you assured him, stopping his rambling.
âThen what is it?â
âNothing.â You tried to go away but he didn't let you.
âPlease,â he mumbled your name, not knowing how much you loved hearing it coming out of his mouth.
He shifted his weight from leg to leg nervously given your lack of response.
âDid someone say something?â Again you didn't answer but the shift in your expression answered for you.
Jack sighed defeated.
âIâm so sorry if it made you feel uncomfortableâ
âIt doesn't,â you said so quickly that you realized what you had said after you did it.
Jack frowned, confused. âThenâŚâ
âDo you actually?â you whispered, unable to look him in the eyes, preparing yourself for the rejection.
âWhat? That I'm in love with you, sweetheart? Because I totally am.â he said it with such confidence and like it was something so obvious.
You looked at him confused.
âWhy?â
That caught him off guard, he didn't understand why you were asking, but if that was what you needed to finally believe him.
âBecause you're amazing, you're beautiful, smart, kind, the best under pressure, I love all the gestures that you do when you focus on something or you're excited, how you jump to help people that you don't even know, and I can continue all night long.â He kept getting closer to you, watching how your eyes started to tear up.
âI can't believe you,â you mumbled more to yourself than to him but Jack was so close to you by this point that he heard it anyway.
He sighed desperately.
âWhy? It's the truth, honey, the real question is why wouldn't I be in love with you?â he whispered, taking one of your rebellious strands of hair and moving it away from your face.
âBecause nobody has ever wanted me that way,â you confessed, holding back a sob but he could clearly see it in your eyes.
How you actually believed that.
Jack felt his heart ache and the need to take you away from everything that could hurt you or have made you think that way because, in his mind, you were the most beautiful woman ever and he would feel very lucky if he could ever have you one day. He couldn't stand that you thought about yourself like that.
Before he could say something, you said something more.
âDuring my whole life, it's never been me, when I was a teenager the boys would be interested just in my friends, they wouldn't care about me. Now it's no different, something is wrong with me, Jack, you don't actually love me." The pain in your voice when you actually believed your own words made Jack want to cry.
How had nobody ever told you how pretty you were?
How had nobody seen in you what he saw?
How did they not see you for who you really were?
He didn't understand but he didn't care either, because he saw it, and heâll make you see it too even if it takes him years. He'll make sure you know how pretty, intelligent, and beautiful you are. An incredible person that anyone in their life should be grateful to have.
âThen they are dumb as fuck, they don't understand the incredible girl that they are losing.â he cupped your face with his hands and cleaned the tears with his thumbs. âHow lucky they could be to have you in their life.â
âYou don't mean it,â you whispered, trying to convince yourself, starting to sob in his arms.
âI do, sweetheart. You don't understand how bad I do,â he insisted, looking deep into your eyes with that intensity that only he had. âI know what I want.â
âWhat do you want?â you mumbled.
âYou.â
He leaned into you, nose touching yours, he waited for you to step back, to give him a sign for him to step back, a glimpse from you that told him you didn't want that. And when he didn't find it he pressed his lips into yours, you took your time but you returned his kiss letting yourself go, letting yourself be loved.
When he pulled away you found yourself wanting more.
âNothing is wrong with you, I truly love you and if you need me to repeat that to you every single day I will, I don't care, sweetheart.â he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours and brushing his nose against yours.
You smiled at that contact and the way he called you, you loved hearing that word coming out of his mouth. You had started to believe him and he could see it in the way you relaxed under his touch, stopping your tears.
âI love you too, Jack,â you said shyly in a quiet mumble that made his heart warm. âI just⌠Iââ
He captured your lips in another sweet kiss before you could say something that was going to make his heart ache again and the anger for whoever had made you think that you couldn't be loved could crawl into him.
I actually didn't like this, but I wanted to publish something đŤ
When a man is flirting with you at work, in a desperate attempt to get rid of him, you tell him you're taken.
When he persists and asks who, your eyes instinctively flick to Jack Abbot. The man who is decidedly not your man. No matter how much you want him to be.
Much to your embarrassment, Jack overhears. Immediately his chest puffs out and he becomes very protective and very proud to be your fake boyfriend. He'd much rather it be real though.
It starts with a hand on your waist.
Thatâs the first problem.
The second problem is that the hand belongs to a patientâs brother who apparently mistakes basic human decency for romantic interest.
The third problem is that itâs been happening for three shifts straight.
âYou should smile more,â he says now, leaning against the nursesâ station like he owns the place. âPretty girls like you shouldnât look so stressed.â
You give him the tightest smile you can manage.
The emergency department behind you is drowning.
Two ambulance arrivals.
One psych hold screaming obscenities in room seven.
A trauma consult incoming.
You have exactly zero patience left for this man.
âSir,â you say evenly, âyou need to stay in the waiting area.â
âBut then I donât get to talk to you.â
God.
You glance around desperately for rescue.
Dana sees you from across the hall and immediately pivots the other direction like a traitor.
Coward.
The man leans closer.
âWhat time do you get off?â
âLate.â
âI could wait.â
âNo, thank you.â
âYou got a boyfriend or something?â
The answer should be easy.
No.
Because you donât.
Unfortunately, the man asking isnât hearing polite rejection. Heâs hearing negotiation.
And you are tired.
Exhausted.
Running on caffeine and twelve accumulated hours of stress.
So the lie slips out before you fully think it through.
âActually,â you say quickly, âI am seeing someone.â
That shouldâve ended it.
It does not.
Instead the man grins.
âYeah? Who?â
Your mouth opens.
Nothing comes out.
And because the universe clearly hates you, your eyes instinctively flick sideways.
Straight toward Jack Abbot.
Who is currently standing fifteen feet away reviewing labs at a computer.
Your stomach drops.
Because Jack looks up at the exact wrong moment.
And catches it.
All of it.
The man follows your gaze.
Then his eyebrows rise.
âThe doctor?â
Heat floods your entire body.
âNoâ I meanââ
Too late.
Jack is already walking over.
And the truly horrifying part?
The second he realizes whatâs happening, something changes in him instantly.
His shoulders pull back.
Chest broadening slightly.
Expression sharpening.
Like some deeply primitive part of his brain just heard mine.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
Jack stops beside you.
Close.
Very close.
Close enough that his shoulder brushes yours.
âEverything okay here?â he asks calmly.
The man looks between the two of you.
âYou her boyfriend?â
You open your mouth to explain.
Jack beats you to it.
âYeah.â
Your brain short-circuits.
The man looks disappointed immediately.
Jack, meanwhile, looks like heâs moments away from dragging you behind him and guarding you with a spear.
âShe said she was taken,â Jack continues pleasantly. âYou should probably listen when women tell you no.â
Thereâs no aggression in his tone.
That somehow makes it more terrifying.
The man awkwardly mutters something and finally backs off toward the waiting area.
The second he disappears around the corner, you slap a hand over your face.
âOh my God.â
Beside you, Jack looks entirely too pleased with himself.
âYouâre welcome.â
You peek at him through your fingers.
âI cannot believe you just did that.â
âYou looked uncomfortable.â
âThatâs not the point.â
A tiny grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.
âYou called me your boyfriend.â
You make a strangled noise.
âIt was panic.â
âMm.â
âYou are enjoying this way too much.â
Jack shrugs, utterly unrepentant.
Then â and this is the worst part â he casually slides his hand against the small of your back.
Like it belongs there.
Your entire nervous system lights on fire.
âThere,â he says. âNow he definitely wonât come back.â
Your heart is beating so hard itâs physically embarrassing.
Because Jack smells good.
Because heâs warm.
Because his hand is large and steady against your spine.
Because youâve been in love with him for months and apparently your subconscious decided that today was the day to publicly expose you.
âGreat,â you mumble weakly. âFantastic. Amazing.â
Jack looks down at you, amused.
âYou okay?â
No.
Absolutely not.
You are seconds away from cardiac arrest.
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre blushing.â
âShut up.â
His grin widens.
And somehow thatâs the thing that kills you most.
Because Jack Abbot does not grin often.
He smiles, sometimes. Briefly. Tiredly.
But this?
This is warm. Open. Boyishly pleased.
Like being mistaken for your boyfriend is the best thing thatâs happened to him all week.
Which is ridiculous.
Probably.
Hopefully.
The fake dating thing shouldâve ended there.
Instead, somehow, it escalates.
Because apparently Jack commits to a bit with alarming dedication.
The man from earlier keeps trying to hover near the nursesâ station throughout the shift.
And every single time, Jack appears.
Every. Single. Time.
Like an insanely attractive, emotionally constipated guard dog.
Youâre updating charts when Jack suddenly appears behind your chair.
âYou eat yet?â he asks.
âNo.â
âYou need to.â
Then he sets a protein bar beside your keyboard before casually squeezing your shoulder.
The man in the waiting room watches the entire interaction with visible defeat.
Later, during a trauma intake, Jack brushes past you and murmurs, âCareful, sweetheart,â when you nearly back into equipment.
Sweetheart.
You nearly drop an entire tray of syringes.
He doesnât even seem to notice what heâs done.
Or maybe he does.
Because when your eyes snap toward him, his expression goes strangely satisfied.
Oh, he knows exactly what heâs doing.
Youâre doomed.
By hour nine, the entire department has noticed.
Dana corners you in the medication room.
âSo,â she says casually.
âNo.â
âYou and Jack finally snapped?â
âNo!â
Dana looks unconvinced.
âReally? Because heâs been following you around like a Victorian husband whose wife might catch tuberculosis.â
You groan.
âItâs fake.â
âMhm.â
âIt is!â
âSure.â
âIt started because that creep wouldnât leave me alone.â
Dana snorts.
âAnd Jack immediately volunteered?â
âHe overheard.â
Dana actually has to physically lean against the counter because sheâs laughing too hard now.
âOh, that poor man.â
You blink.
âWhat?â
âYou really donât know?â
A horrible feeling crawls into your stomach.
âKnow what?â
Dana stares at you.
Then she laughs again, softer this time.
âJesus Christ. You two are painful.â
Before you can interrogate her further, someone yells for assistance down the hall.
Dana escapes with the air of someone withholding devastating information for personal entertainment.
You hate everyone here.
The shift finally ends just after midnight.
Youâre exhausted enough to cry.
Jack finds you in the locker room area struggling into your jacket.
âYou good to drive?â he asks immediately.
âYes.â
âThat sounded fake.â
âItâs because Iâm tired.â
Jack studies you for a long moment.
Then he reaches over and fixes the collar of your jacket where it folded inward.
Such a tiny gesture.
So gentle.
So automatic.
Your chest aches.
âYou didnât have to keep doing that all shift,â you say quietly.
Jackâs hands still.
âWhat?â
âThe fake boyfriend thing.â
Something unreadable flickers across his face.
âOh.â
âYou really committed.â
He huffs a quiet laugh.
âWell.â
You wait.
Jack looks at you for a second too long before saying carefully:
âWasnât exactly difficult.â
Your breath catches slightly.
The air changes.
Just a little.
Enough to notice.
Jack notices it too.
You can tell by the way he suddenly looks intensely focused on your jacket zipper instead of your face.
âYou know,â you say softly, âyou were weirdly good at it.â
That gets a tiny smile out of him.
âYeah?â
âVery convincing.â
His eyes finally lift to yours then.
Warm.
Steady.
Dangerous.
âMaybe because I wanted to be convincing.â
Your heartbeat stutters.
âJackâŚâ
He exhales slowly through his nose.
And suddenly he looks nervous.
You donât think youâve ever seen Jack nervous around you before.
âI should probably tell you something.â
Your pulse jumps.
âWhat?â
Jack rubs the back of his neck once before meeting your eyes again.
âIâve kind of wanted to be your boyfriend for a while now.â
The world genuinely stops for a second.
You stare at him.
Jackâs expression shifts instantly.
âOh my God,â he mutters. âThat sounded terrible out loud.â
âNo,â you say immediately.
âNo?â
âNo.â
Relief flashes across his face so fast it almost hurts to see.
âYou mean that?â
You step closer before you can lose courage.
âJack,â you say softly, âIâve been in love with you for months.â
The look he gives you then could ruin lives.
Like he canât believe his own luck.
Like heâs trying not to smile too hard and failing miserably.
âYouâre kidding.â
âIâm not.â
Jack laughs once under his breath.
Then his hands find your waist carefully, almost hesitantly, like heâs checking whether this is real.
âYou know,â he murmurs, âI liked hearing you call me your boyfriend.â
Your face burns again.
âI was panicking.â
âStill counts.â
âIt absolutely does not.â
âI disagree.â
You laugh helplessly.
And thatâs the exact moment Jack kisses you.
Warm.
Certain.
A little overdue.
His hands tighten at your waist when you kiss him back, and the sound he makes low in his throat nearly melts your skeleton.
When he finally pulls away, his forehead drops against yours.
âSo,â he murmurs, voice rough now, âcan I make it official?â
You smile so hard your cheeks hurt.
âYeah,â you whisper. âI think you probably should.â
Jack grins.
That same dangerously soft grin from earlier.
Only this time, when he slides his hand against your lower back and pulls you close, thereâs nothing fake about it at all.
summary: what could possibly go wrong when your best friend and secret crush asks you to pretend to be his new girlfriend at a wedding his friends and ex-wife will be at? (female reader)
barista's note: I swear I have more Jack content coming! (i have two WIPs for him!) but I've been so obsessed with the malpractice king I needed to get these out of my system.
ingredients: 18+, f!oral, p in v, divorced Langdon, who doesn't love a fake dating trope.
drink size: 1852 words
You looked yourself over in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at you. It was rare for you to get dressed up like this - a silk, dark blue spaghetti-strapped dress that hugged your body just right, topped off with hair and makeup that you spent the past hour perfecting.Â
Two months ago, Frank had shown up at your apartment in a panic. You were worried he had relapsed, but breathed a sigh of relief when he went on to explain that an old college friend of his had invited him to his wedding. But the relief was short-lived as he went on to say that Abby was expected to be at this wedding too, with a new man on her arm.Â
Then came the question.Â
Not just a simple âWill you be my plus one?â But instead, âWill you be my plus one AND pretend to be my girlfriend?âÂ
You were uncertain at first, not one to enjoy making others jealous. But jealousy wasnât Frankâs goal; distraction was. He didnât feel great about having to sit at the same table as his ex-wife, feet away from her new boyfriend, when the wounds of his divorce still ached. He didnât need you to make out with him in front of everyone; he just needed you there for moral support and to make him seem less like a single loser. You couldnât bring yourself to say no. Not when he looked at you like that, beautiful blue eyes desperate and pleading as they locked with yours.
âFine, but you owe me, Langdon!â
âAnything you want!â
As the date got closer, you began to wonder how you were going to pull this off. Frank was your best friend, nothing more. Sure, there were moments, moments where Frank made your heart race, moments where he crossed your mind as you rubbed your clit, moments where you wondered what would happen if you leaned in and kissed him while you watched TV on your couch. But you had learned to ignore those moments, convincing yourself that your relationship was strictly friendly.Â
And now, here you were, standing in front of your mirror, waiting for the chime of your doorbell to signify Frank's arrival to pick you up. The sound came a moment later.Â
âWow, you look great!â were the first words out of Frankâs mouth when you opened the door.Â
He looked great too, in a black suit with a dark blue tie and shirt that matched your dress, a design choice you had agreed on to support your fake relationship further.
Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Frankâs eyes scan every inch of your body twice before he held his arm out. âShall we?âÂ
â
On the ride to the venue, you went over your story once again - you were the sister of a friend Frank made in rehab, you had been dating for 5 months, and were madly in love. You even agreed on your own signal if things became too much for Frank: a hard squeeze of your hand.
The ceremony went by quickly and easily enough, but you knew the hard part would be the reception. Once you had found your table and claimed your seats, you began to sell yourselves as a couple, Frank proudly introducing you to all his old friends, your hand in his. As he rambled on, catching up with his buddies, you couldnât help but revel in how nice his hand felt in yours, how natural it felt, like you had been a couple for years. Your brain was so caught up in daydreams of being Frankâs for real that you didnât notice he had stopped talking, but you did notice when he squeezed your hand. Hard.Â
There she was. You had only seen pictures of her, and she was beautiful in those, but her in-person beauty left you feeling small and unworthy of Frank, even as a fake girlfriend. Frank and Abby exchanged some pleasantries, Abby sharing that the kids were at her motherâs and she had checked on them recently, before introducing Greg, her new boyfriend. Frank introduced you back, with significantly less confidence than he had when introducing you to his friends. It pained you to watch Frankâs confidence deteriorate so quickly, and after another moment of small talk, you acted.
âYou know honey, I think I just saw them put out some fresh shrimp cocktail at the apps table, we should go grab some. Nice meeting you, Abby!â You dragged Frank away, waiting until you were well out of earshot to speak again.
âHey, you kind of fumbled out there. You okay?â
Frank couldnât meet your eyes. âYeah. Just sucks. I was kinda hoping it wasnât true. But she looks so much happier without me. Itâs not even that I still want her, I justâŚshe moved on so fast, feels like I meant nothing.â he choked on his last words as if he were holding back tears.Â
âLetâs go home, Frank. Theyâre married already, you did your due diligence as their friend. Letâs just leave.â You suggested.
Frank shook his head, finally bringing his eyes to yours with a smile, as if he hadnât been ready to sob a moment ago. âItâs okay. It looks worse if we leave. I can do this.âÂ
âYou sure can, boyfriend!â You returned a smile as you led Frank back to your table.Â
â
Dinner went fairly well, the distance between your chairs and Abbyâs providing enough relief that Frank was slowly returning to his normal, confident self. You talked, laughed, and took pictures, all with Frankâs hand either holding yours or resting on your back. There were even several moments throughout the night where Frankâs hand found your thigh under the table, completely out of view of anyone, leaving you wondering who it was supposed to be for. You missed his hand the second he pulled away every time, looking forward to the next time it happened again.Â
Frank even managed to drag you onto the dancefloor. You werenât a great dancer, but all fears of embarrassing yourself faded the second Frank placed his hands on your hips to lead you in a slow dance. Without even thinking about it, your arms came to wrap around his neck as you danced.Â
You both suddenly found yourselves lost in each otherâs eyes, momentarily forgetting where you were, and desperately fighting the urge to close the gap between your lips. Frank seemingly broke before you did, leaning in slightly just as the song came to a close, snapping you both back to reality. You pulled away from each other, sharing a laugh before Frank led you back to your table.Â
--
The good time came to an abrupt end when the MC announced the dreaded bouquet toss. Normally, you wouldnât have participated, but jumped to your feet when you saw Abby get up. You didnât care about having the bouquet for yourself; you just didnât want her to have it and make a scene that could ruin Frankâs improving mood. You underestimated your athleticism, however, and Abby was able to easily catch the stupid thing, joyously running back to the table to plant a huge kiss on Gregâs lips as the upbeat music faded into a slower love song.Â
Frankâs expression was neutral as he watched them, but you knew he was breaking inside. Youâd had enough of seeing him hurt today and decided it was time for a grand finale of your fake relationship plan. You walked back to your table, hand outstretched to Frank. He shook his head, but you kept your hand out, silently demanding he take it. He did so, and you led him back to the dancefloor, resuming the same position you had earlier - his hands on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck.Â
âThis was stupid. I shouldnât have come. I knew I wasnât ready for this. I knew-â
But Frankâs ramblings were cut off as you did what you wished you had done the last time you were this close to each other.Â
You kept your lips on his for several seconds before pulling away. Even with the dim light of the dancefloor, you could see blush forming on his cheeks.Â
âI told you you didnât have to do that.â Frank said with a chuckle before looking over your shoulder. âBesides, they werenât even looking.â
âI didnât do it for them.â You said as you brought your lips back to his. Frank deepened the kiss, bringing his hands up from your hips to your cheeks.Â
âÂ
You left abruptly after cake, Frankâs hand glued to your inner thigh as he drove you home, a little too fast for your liking. Once you were safely back at your apartment, you practically broke the door off its hinges, clamoring to get in. Frank wasted no time, hands flying to the back of your dress to unzip it as he kissed you hard. Once you were fully bare, he walked you towards your bedroom, not breaking the kiss until you were lying on it, knees dangling off the bed. Frank sank to his knees in front of you, slowly kissing up your spread thighs and singing praises in between each hot kiss.Â
âYouâre so beautiful!â âI canât believe weâre doing this.â âDo you have any idea how much Iâve fantasized about this?â âGod, I want you so fucking bad.â
You saw stars the moment his lips finally wrapped around your clit, each suck eliciting a loud moan out of you, and inching you closer to an orgasm. It wasnât long until you were falling off the edge, your body having been so in need of this, of him. When you had finished riding out the wave of your orgasm on his tongue, Frank stood up and straddled you, crudely spitting in his hand and stroking his already leaking cock twice before slowly pressing into you.
Frank fucked you slow and deep, desperate to savor every inch of the body he had longed for. He kept his eyes glued to your pretty face the entire time, encouraging you to keep your eyes on his whenever you closed them. The intimacy between you was enough to spark a second orgasm in you, making Frank pick up his pace as he hurdled towards his own. With a final groan of your name, Frank spilled into you, and you wrapped your legs around him to keep him close as he throbbed within you.Â
â
You sat back on the couch with your glass of water, snuggling into Frankâs side as he wrapped his arm around you.Â
âThank you again for today. Seriously. You were my rock.â Frank said as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. âIs there any chance youâd be willing to do me one more favor, though?â
You perked up, willing to do anything he wanted at this point. âWhatâs up?â
âI was gonna go out tomorrow night. Will you be my plus one and actually be my girlfriend?âÂ
You laughed. âFine, but you owe me, Langdon!â
He leaned in, kissing you deeply. âAnything you want.â
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
dr. abbot x f!resident!reader
masterlist
content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift
words: 8.1K
synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning.
a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!
The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of whoâs working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.
You wouldnât think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, theyâd go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.
Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping heâd run into you there after your own shift.
You never came to these types of events, but that didnât stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping theyâd stumble upon yours.
He hadnât seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, âSheâs a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.â
It hadnât been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadnât taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell.Â
He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.
Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.
âYouâre pathetic,â Robby teased as he sipped his beer.
âHuh?â Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him.Â
Robby smirked knowingly, âShe is here, you know.â
âReally?âÂ
âYeah,â He said, âBut her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.â
His heart stuttered in his chest, âBoyfriend?â
Robby nodded, âI didnât know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.â
Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You mustâve been serious about him, then.
âDo you know where she is?â
Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, âYou sure you wanna go down that road?â
âI just want to talk to her.â He said, and it was true. Mostly.Â
The two of you hadnât had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that.Â
But Jack couldnât accept that.
Robby sighed heavily, âI saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.â
âThanks, brother.â Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.
***
You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldnât quite explain.
But Jack hadnât needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.
The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.
And thatâs where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.
There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.
You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jackâs eyes on you the whole time.
But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.
Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely.Â
âHey,â He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, âGo take a break, Iâll come find you in fifteen.â
âI donât need a break.â You said quickly.
âYou do,â He said, undeterred, âYouâve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didnât blink.â
You turned to him finally, panic on your face, âFuck, seriously?âÂ
You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, âNope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.â
It was rare that Jack wasnât joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You mustâve looked like shit.
âOkay.â You said finally, âFine.â
He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, âI catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and Iâm sending you home.â He called after you.
You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that youâd heard and kept walking.
And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.
You werenât aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.
âHow come you, Ellis, or Shen didnât need a break?â You asked, your voice wavering, âIs there something wrong with me?â
He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing theyâd be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.
âNot even a little bit.â He said softly, voice rough, âYou were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.â
You breathed out a shaky breath, âThen why does it feel so bad?â
âBecause youâre human,â He said softly, âAnd because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.â
You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. âDoes it ever hurt less?â
âFuck, no.â He sighed, âBut it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, thatâs what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.â
Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, âIt does make you a better doctor,â You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, âThe best, probably.â
He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, âCareful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.â
Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, âI mean it. I feel really grateful that youâre my attending. I wouldnât want to learn under anyone else.â
He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, âI came up here to make you feel better and somehow youâre the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?â
You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, âI learned from the best,â You said pointedly as you looked over at him.
âSee,â He pointed at you, teasing, âThatâs what Iâm talking about. Much better. Youâre way less unsettling when youâre mean.â
You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that heâd have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.
He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.
But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldnât have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didnât mean it or didnât want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadnât really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he wouldâve told himself it wasnât worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.Â
But he didnât know then what he knew now.Â
Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.
The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?
It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.
And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.
His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didnât, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.
The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them.Â
He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you.Â
But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat.Â
He would deny it when you didnât look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.
He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.
He would deny it when his broken voice asked âIs this really what you want?â and you only silently nodded.
Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasnât delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. Heâd find you again, when you were ready.
***
Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, youâd fall back into him.
But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didnât imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.
You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldnât understand why you were still acting like he didnât exist.
When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.
Perfect. You were alone.
When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didnât immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.
The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.
âYou look like you could use a drink.â Jack said.
Oh, you hadnât realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.
You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.
âHeather and Samira are getting me one.â
He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, âItâs just a tequila soda. Itâs not poison.â
Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.
You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.
âWhy arenât you with them at the bar?â
âI had to take a call.â
âFrom your boyfriend?â Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, heâd take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, âI didnât ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.â
Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, âHe called to say he couldnât make it, so.â
Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him.Â
âIâm sorry,â He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, âLook, you may fuckinâ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. Iâm sorry if he stood you up. I donât like seeing you sad.â
You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, âI donât hate you. Iâve never fucking hated you. Thatâs the problem.â
Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didnât want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.
âHow long have you been together?â You shot him that annoyed look again, âChrist, Iâm just making conversation.â
âRight,â You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, âTwo and a half years.â You said quietly. It hadnât quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.
But Jackâs brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.
Two and a halfâ? No, thatâThat couldnât be right. Because that would meanâ
Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldnât look at him.
Jackâs ears were ringing. He started to say your nameâ
âDr. Abbot,â Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, âCatching up with your old resident?â
He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasnât fucking falling apart around him, like you hadnât just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.
He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.
And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.
âJack,â Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didnât fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, âJack, waitââ
He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, âWhy didnât you fucking tell me?â
You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, âWhat difference would it have made?â
âWhat differenceâ?â He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, âAll this time Iâve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?â
âAffair?â You hissed incredulously, âWe kissed once!â
He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, âDoes he know?âÂ
âWhat?â
He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.
âYour boyfriend, does he know? About us?â
âJack,â You said breathlessly, âThere is no us. There was never an us.â
Jack shook his head, âHow do you do it?â
âDo what?â You asked, exasperated.
âIâve been pining after you for two fucking years and youâve compartmentalized so goddamn well that youâve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.â
For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, âI donât owe you anything.â You said coldly, âItâs not my fault youâve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.â
You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, âYouâre right,â He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, âIâm sorry I disrupted your evening. Wonât happen again.â
You sighed, âJackââ
âItâs Dr. Abbot,â He said coldly, turning back to face you again, âIf you donât mind.â
Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldnât be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.
He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.
***
Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldnât go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, theyâd know something was up. And you certainly couldnât follow after Jack.
You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?
Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?
You hadnât wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadnât been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.
Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.
You had thought after all this time Jack mustâve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadnât meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.
But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadnât been what youâd seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.
It didnât make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.
You should go home.
***
Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.
âSo it went well, I take it?â Robby asked mildly.
Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, âShe has a boyfriend.â
Robby nodded, âRight. Iâm glad weâre on the same page about that, now.â
Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, âNo, you see, sheâs had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.â
Robby was silent for a moment, then, âOh.â
âYeah.â Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.
âAlright, I can see youâre upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world arenât going to make you feel better.â
âNo,â Jack agreed, âBut maybe itâll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.â
Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robbyâs phone buzzed with a text from Heather.
What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She wonât stop.
He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, âYou made her cry?â
âWhat?â Jack looked at him incredulously, âNo.â
âHeather says sheâs sobbing in the stairwell.â
Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he wouldâve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.
âBelieve me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.â
Robbyâs phone buzzed again.
Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.
Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.
Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and heâd probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. Heâd tell Jack in the morning.
***
Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadnât minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.
Heather started again, âSo you and AbbotââÂ
âYes.â
âAnd thatâs why you switched to the day shift.â
âYes.â
âAnd Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?â
This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, âI donât know what Jack wanted because I never asked.â
âHe didnât know about your boyfriend then, either?â
You shook your head slowly, âI thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didnât trust myself around him and I thought itâd be easier on us both.â
âAnd today was the first time youâd really spoken in two years?â
âYes.â
âAnd this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?â
You looked at Heather and smirked, âSo youâre getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?â
Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, âI donât think youâre crazy. I think youâre finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.â
âI say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.â Samira said, standing.
âOh, Iâ No,â You shook your head, panicking, âWhat if heâs there?â
âOh, I hope he is.â Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.
***
Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, âBrother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.â
Jack turned to Robby, âItâs only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.â
Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didnât trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.
So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.
He should have just gone home, probably.
Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.
***
The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.
âHey, what happened?â Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.
You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.
Samiraâs jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.
âThis is the boyfriend who couldnât meet you here because of âworkâ?â
You nodded.
âWell, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.â
You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, âI donât know⌠why I careâŚâ You hiccuped, âI donât think Iâve loved him for a long time.â
Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, âIt sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,â This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, âIâm not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that wayâ Iâm gonna go find Heather, sheâs much better at this sort of thing.â
Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.
âDonât worry,â He said softly, âIâm just getting a drink and then Iâll go as far away from you as possible.â
You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.
The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.
It felt like a big cosmic joke.
You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldnât have to confront the long string of bad decisions youâd made that had led you here.
But Jack just couldnât resist when you looked so miserable, âAre you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.â
You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe thatâs why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?
You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, âYouâll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.â
Jackâs face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, âWhatever you think of me, Iâm not enjoying this.â
You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.
âIâm serious. I would neverââ You hear him sigh in frustration, âJust because Iâm hurting doesnât mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe itâd all make more sense to me.â
He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, âThat guyâs a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.â You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, âHey,â He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, âYou deserve better, okay?â
You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth.Â
âI did the same thing to him.â You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, âOnly seems fair.â
Jack released your chin and shook his head, âDonât compare what we did to⌠To that.â
He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, âHow is it any different?â
âThat is just drunken lust.â He leaned towards you on his forearms, âWhat we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.â
âAnd that makes it better?â
âDid it mean something to you?â He shot back.
His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath.Â
âTell me,â He said slowly, âTell me it didnât mean anything to you and I swear to God, Iâll walk away and youâll never hear from me again.â
You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldnât tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years.Â
But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didnât know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.
âI should go.â You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.
He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, âWhat the fuck are you so scared of?â
You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, âGoodnight, Dr. Abbot.â
***
âHey, let her go,â Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, âYouâre drunk.â
âIâm fine,â Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, âSheâs drunk and itâs storming out there.â
âHeather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.â
Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, âSorry, I just⌠She really gets under my fucking skin.â
Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, âI noticed.â
Jack sighed, âGo home, Robby, seriously. Iâm not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.â He shook his head, âI should probably just go home, too.â
Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, âItâll all make more sense in the morning, brother.â
Jack snorted, âHistorically, that has never been true for me.â
***
It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.
You didnât know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadnât moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadnât had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.
But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didnât want to be there.
Youâre not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jackâs name on the banner, alerting you to a text.
Jack hadnât texted you in something like two years.
I know I shouldnât be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please text when youâre home.
After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and âlikeâ it.
After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.
Well donât just fucking like the message. Are you home?
You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.
But you were growing tired of all the pretending.
no. You replied finally.
His reply was immediate, Where are you?Â
in the park.
Itâs raining.
excellent observation, dr. abbot.
You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.
Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.
This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.
You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.
A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.
i donât want to go home. You sent him in a rush.
Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.
You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure thatâs a good idea?
Nope. Uberâs pulling up now.
Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent.Â
You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jackâs apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail.Â
You still got in the car, though. You didnât have anywhere else to go.
***
When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.
You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift.Â
You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.
It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadnât changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.
But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.
Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or âsolid workâ when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.
You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
âI didnât know you had this.â You said softly.
He didnât say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, âLetâs get you out of those wet clothes,â He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.
You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, âThe showerâs in that room,â He pointed to a door off the bedroom, âThereâs clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.â
He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, âThank you.â You said softly.
His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you werenât sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.
***
After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.
When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, âFeeling better?â You nodded. âGood. Take the bed, Iâll sleep out here.â
But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, âDo you love me?â You asked, voice small.
He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, âHave I not made it painfully obvious?â
âFor how long?â
He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, âYou donât get to do this.â
âDo what?â
âYouâve been in control of this,â He gestured between the two of you, âFrom the second I fucking met you and now youâre trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?â
âWhat do I want?â
âYes,â He said, âNot what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?â
âIââ You shook your head, âI donâtâ I donât know.â
âYes, you do.â He said firmly, âDo you want your cheating boyfriend?â
You frowned, âNo.â
âDid you ever want him?â
You huffed in frustration, âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?â
âThatâs not a fair characterization of what happenedââ
âWas it what you wanted?â
You faltered, âIt was what was safest.â You said softly.
He smiled at you sadly, âHe couldnât hurt you if you didnât love him, right?â
You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, âI didnât think it meant that much to you.â
âYou never gave me the chance to tell you.â He rubbed a hand over his jaw, âIâll ask you again, what do you want?â
You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, âIâm scared,â You breathed shakily into his mouth.
âOf what?â He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.
âOf you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.â
âI canât promise you that this will work,â He said softly, âBut I can promise Iâll fight like hell to make it work.â
You swallowed, âBecause you love me?â
Finally, he laughed, âYes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.â He said before he kissed you.
He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something heâd lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.
âSlow down,â He chastised.
âYou started it.â You reminded him.
âFuck,â He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, âYouâre sure?â He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.
You nodded, âI want you.â
He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.
Now⌠Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You werenât going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldnât let you go so easily again.
Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.
He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock.Â
He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.
Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you werenât wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral.Â
âJesus Christ,â He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.
You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, âTouch me, please?â You whined.
He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.
With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, âThatâs it, sweetheart,â He said softly, âLook so pretty when you come for me like that.â
As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. âTaste so good, too.â
Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, âWhat?â He asked, ripping the package open.
âDâyou fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?â
He rolled his eyes, but smirked, âShut up.â
When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, heâd be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.
âI love you,â You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, âI love you so much.â
He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, âYou love me, huh?â He said after a moment.
You lightly scratched the back of his head, âIâve loved you for years,â You said softly, âJust spent a lot of that time denying it.â
He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand.Â