jack abbot x fem!resident!reader
summary. — you’re not jealous. you’re not. right?
warnings. — implied age gap, Jack is reader’s attending, nothing else tbh
a/n. — i just wanna crawl into that man’s skin. that’s it.
you never really understood jealously as a feeling in itself. when you were younger, you’ve heard stories of girls being jealous over their friends having other friends, or family members being jealous over each other, and obviously girls and boys being jealous about their partners. you weren’t jealous. neither have you had time, nor reason, to be. firstly, you see jealousy as a weakness, as lack of trust and respect toward your partner. secondly, Jack has never given you a reason to be jealous.
despite your relationship being… a secret? sort of, Jack has always made sure to be as unapproachable as he can be to other women. he never flirts back, he’s a professional through and through, and your trust never wavered. you never looked twice when he talked to someone else, never questioned or asked. you were confident in your relationship and in him.
but something is different today. maybe it’s the fact you’re on your period, covering a day shift (when you strictly work nights unless forced to otherwise) which actually makes for a double shift and you’ve had maybe two hours of sleep in between, on fucking Independence Day. could it get any worse?
turns out that yeah, it definitely can. you’ve been running around the ER since like 10am, taking over as many Santos’ patients as you can so that she could catch up on her charting, meanwhile getting called into basically every trauma that’s rolled in since your shift started. truth be told, you’re already barely holding up, and you still have at least six hours left before you can go home.
despite taking ibuprofen and paracetamol (both in fucking megadose), you swear your your lower abdomen’s about to burst. you get cramps every few minutes, your head’s pounding like an alarm clock is going off inside of it, and your pace is slower than usually.
you’ve been walking with Robby, a chart in your hand as you spit out every single thing there should be done on your patient from Room 4, and after a green light from the attending, you loose him in the crowd. you let out a sigh, shaking your head as you move forward, almost missing something out the corner of your eye. someone.
you stop abruptly, quickly turning around and sticking your head into the room, only to see your man, shirtless, with Samira fucking Mohan right behind him. okay, listen, it’s not that you don’t like Samira. you’re sure she’s a perfectly nice girl outside, during her private time, and that she must be a delight as a friend. but here? here, she’s your rival. that sounds dramatic, but it’s kind of true. the two of you started your residency at PTMC at the same time, both in the ER, both under Robby. no matter how hard you tried, how long you stayed after hours, how many patients you saved and how many of her mistakes you fixed, she was still Robby’s golden child. so the moment you had the opportunity to, you switched to the dark side (that’s what Shen called the night shift).
and now here they are, making small talk while she’s doing something on his back, which probably still has the scratches you left last week. that makes you feel a little bit better. just a little.
„what’s goin’ on here, huh?” you step into the room, your voice sounding perhaps a tad too sharp under the quiet composure of your face, as you shut the door behind you. you glance towards the plastic bag on the floor, quickly putting two and two together (you remember there was a diabetic patient here not long ago), before your gaze sets on Jack.
if he’s startled, he doesn’t show it. his eyes scan over your figure, taking your disheveled appearance and slightly bended stance, meanwhile Samira remains silent, finishing off putting the ointment on the graze on his back, not even looking up at you.
„Dr. Mohan’s giving me hand. i couldn’t reach all the way behind myself.” he says after a moment, and as you slowly nod your head, he realizes he’s probably in deep shit.
„i can see that. well, i can take over.” your steps are heavy against the ground as you approach the bed, taking the applicator from Samira’s hand just a bit too forcefully, and give her a tight smile as she steps back. „i think i saw your diabetic near the ambulance entrance a few minutes ago. if you run, maybe you’ll still catch him.”
„thanks.” Samira mutters, and you don’t miss the side-eye she shoots your way before grabbing the plastic back and leaving the room. you sigh, your eyes analyzing the graze on his shoulder blade, some sort of strange, tensed silence falling between the two of you.
„feel better now?” Jack’s the one to break it, as always, the words leaving his mouth in that low murmur you love to hear when you’re on top or under him. well, you don’t love it now.
„i don’t know what you mean.” you shrug, which he obviously can’t see, and you’re quick to add. „what the hell happened?”
„the bullet slipped a bit past my vest. i’m fine.” he lets out a huff as you finish off tending to his injury, and soon enough you step back too, arms crossed over your chest.
his hands find your hips, pulling you in closer as you stare him down with that infuriating pout to your lips. the one that absolutely drives him crazy anytime he sees it. you only raise your eyebrows, not changing your stubborn posture, which makes him smile. a slight lift of the corner of his mouth, but it’s there.
„oh, c’mon, sweet girl. jealousy doesn’t suit you.” he teases softly, thumbs brushing over your hipbones, a soothing motion that almost every time makes you melt into him. it doesn’t now. but it starts wearing you down. „y’know i only have my eyes on you. i’m not interested in anyone else. you’re the sexiest, most beautiful and most intelligent woman i’ve ever met.”
the compliments are definitely working the way Jack assumed they would. you can’t help the smile growing on your face with each word he says, and finally you roll your eyes at him.
„don’t push it. you think i don’t know you tryna butter me up?” you chuckle, one hand coming up to rest against his broad, very naked chest, the other one finding its place on his neck. before you even think it through, your mouth’s already opening. „i don’t want her near you unless it’s in trauma or patient related. she’s doing puppy eyes at you all the fucking time.”
you wince, literally wince, once your brain processes what you just said, and you’re quick to recoil. but Jack beats you to it, and you can see the cocky written all over his face. his hands travel down, resting on the globes of your ass, and he squeezes it playfully.
„yes, ma’am. you’re the boss.” he nods, and despite the boyish smirk to his lips along with his attitude, you know he’s serious. he means what he says. he always does. „one hell of a sexy boss.”
„well, technically, you’re the boss. but whatever.” you lean in to steal the quickest of tiniest pecks from him, patting his shoulder before taking a step back, his hands falling to his sides. „now, get dressed, Dr. Abbot. you’re already here, so you wouldn’t mind helping us all out, would you, honey? it’s a shitshow here today.”
