ellievsbear
NASA
Love Begins
Sade Olutola
todays bird
One Nice Bug Per Day
tannertan36
Peter Solarz
JVL
#extradirty
will byers stan first human second
styofa doing anything
★
shark vs the universe
⁂
Misplaced Lens Cap
🪼
wallacepolsom
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
seen from Brazil
seen from Iraq
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Germany
@tpwkhawkins
You Rock My World - J. Abbot
“The rarest love, who'd think I'd find
Someone like you to call mine”
Jack Abbot x Reader smau / Bit of Frank Langdon x reader
this is so super self indulgent :)
One: Sexy Men
Two: Mateo!
Three: Scared
Four: Avoidant
Five: Appendicitis
Six: Joey, Pacey, and Dawson
Seven: Normal
Eight: Patrick
Nine: Sleepover
Ten: Morning / Ten Point Five: The Morning After
Eleven: You
Twelve: Jack
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Twelve: Jack
alright 4 chapters tonight and now its 2am so I need to sleep
Jack left your apartment later than he meant to.
That was the first mistake.
The second was the silence on the drive back.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that gives your thoughts too much room to breathe.
By the time he pulled into his place, he didn’t even turn the engine off right away.
He just sat there.
Hands still on the wheel.
Staring at nothing.
Because “nothing” was easier than what his brain kept trying to do.
Rewind the morning.
Rewind the way you’d looked at him over breakfast like it was normal.
Like it could be normal.
Jack finally exhaled and got out of the truck.
The cold air didn’t help.
Inside, his apartment was quiet in a way that felt louder than the ED ever did.
He tossed his keys down, walked past the kitchen, and stopped halfway down the hall.
Snoopy wasn’t there.
Which, for some reason, made it worse.
Jack dragged a hand down his face.
“Get it together” he muttered to himself.
It didn’t work.
He tried work instead.
Charts. Cases. Anything structured.
He opened his laptop.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Nothing stuck.
Because every time he tried to focus, his brain supplied a flash of you laughing in your kitchen.
Or sleeping on his couch.
Or wearing his sweatshirt.
Or saying his name like it didn’t mean anything complicated at all.
Jack shut the laptop harder than necessary.
“Fuck.”
A beat.
He stood up.
Started pacing.
That was worse.
Finally, he stopped at his phone.
Stared at it like it might argue back.
He never did this.
Never.
If anything, Jack was the person other people called when they were spiraling.
Not the other way around.
But his thumb moved anyway.
Robby.
One name.
Simple.
The call rang twice before Robby picked up.
“Jack?”
Jack didn’t waste time.
“I think I’m in trouble.”
A pause.
“That’s not usually how you start these conversations.”
Jack exhaled sharply.
“I’m serious.”
Robby’s tone shifted immediately. More alert.
“Okay. Talk to me brother.”
Jack leaned his forearm against the counter, staring at nothing again.
“It’s getting complicated.”
There it was.
The word.
He hated it now.
Robby didn’t interrupt.
Jack kept going before he lost momentum.
“It’s not, I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not. But everyone at work is—” he stopped, frustrated with himself.
“They’re noticing things.”
Robby hummed faintly.
“That’s usually what happens when things are happening.”
Jack closed his eyes.
“I didn’t say things were happening.”
Another pause.
On the other end, Robby was quiet for a beat too long.
“Jack.”
That tone.
The one that meant stop dancing around it.
Jack swallowed.
“I didn’t plan any of this.”
“I know.”
“And it’s not supposed to look like this.”
“What does ‘this’ mean?”
Jack ran a hand through his hair.
“This isn’t… simple.”
Robby let out a low breath.
“Most things aren’t.”
That didn’t help.
Jack shook his head even though Robby couldn’t see it.
“She’s—” he stopped.
Because finishing that sentence felt dangerous.
Robby waited.
Jack tried again.
“She’s younger than me.”
A beat.
“That’s your concern?”
Jack frowned.
“It matters.”
“Does it?”
Jack didn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth was complicated in a different way.
It wasn’t just that.
It was everything.
The way you talked to him like he wasn’t your attending sometimes.
The way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.
The way he found excuses to linger.
Robby finally spoke again.
“You’re not doing anything wrong, Jack.”
Jack gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Doesn’t feel like that’s what people think.”
“People aren’t in your head.”
That landed quieter.
Jack looked down at the floor.
“I’m not good at this.”
A rare admission.
Even rarer when it came from him.
Robby didn’t respond immediately.
When he did, his voice was steady.
“You don’t have to be good at it yet.”
Jack exhaled slowly.
“I just—” he paused again, jaw tightening. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
Robby’s response came without hesitation.
“Then stop treating it like it’s already doomed.”
Silence.
Jack didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just let that sit there.
Robby added, softer but firm.
“You’re panicking.”
Jack almost laughed at that.
Almost.
Because Robby was right.
And Jack never panicked.
That was the problem.
“I don’t panic.” Jack said automatically.
Robby huffed.
“Sure.”
Another pause.
Then Robby’s voice softened slightly.
“Go to bed.”
Jack stared at the counter.
Like it might offer a better answer than the phone call.
“I’ll figure it out.” he said finally.
“I know you will.”
A beat.
Then Robby added:
“But not this morning.”
Jack didn’t respond.
Because Robby was right again.
And because for the first time in a long time—
Jack Abbot didn’t have a plan.
Just a feeling he couldn’t name yet.
And the sinking realization that avoiding it wasn’t going to make it go away.
Teeny Tiny Taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva @beingniceisntahobby @crossiant31
Eleven: You
You watched Jack's truck disappear around the corner.
Then you stood in your doorway.
Still holding his coffee mug.
"Huh."
The apartment suddenly felt...
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Snoopy rubbed against your ankle, demanding breakfast despite having eaten an hour ago.
"You already had food."
He meowed.
"I know. Life is hard."
You wandered back inside, shutting the door with your foot.
Jack's plate was still in the sink.
His coffee cup now sat beside yours.
The blanket he'd folded before leaving was still draped neatly over the back of the couch.
Everything about the apartment felt...
Different.
Like he'd somehow left pieces of himself behind.
You frowned it was like you were waiting for him to come back, as if this was his home,
Snoopy blinked at you.
"I know we're screwed."
Despite the situation you found yourself smiling.
Which was annoying.
Very annoying.
You weren't twelve.
He'd stayed for breakfast.
Actually...
Second breakfast.
You groaned.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
You dropped your forehead against the refrigerator.
Why were you smiling?
It wasn't weird.
Friends had breakfast.
Friends cooked for each other.
Friends borrowed sweatshirts.
Friends called each other drunk at two in the morning?
You squeezed your eyes shut.
"Nope."
Your phone sat on the counter.
You looked at it.
Then looked away.
Then looked back.
Your thumb hovered over one contact.
Trinity.
You hesitated.
Then hit call.
She answered on the second ring.
"If you're not dying, I'm hanging up."
You snorted.
"What a horrible thing to say."
"So you're not dying."
"No."
"Great."
A beat.
"What's wrong?"
You leaned against the counter.
"Nothing."
"Mhm."
"Seriously."
"Y/N."
You sighed.
"I need you to tell me if I'm insane."
There was a pause.
"That's usually a loaded question."
"It is."
"I figured."
You wandered toward the couch, flopping onto it with far more force than necessary.
"I just had breakfast."
"Congratulations?"
"At my apartment."
"I'm still not seeing the problem."
"With Jack."
Silence.
Long enough that you checked to make sure the call hadn't dropped.
"Trin?"
"I'm here."
"You're thinking."
"I'm trying to decide whether to laugh or be nice."
You groaned.
"Neither."
"Too late."
A laugh escaped her.
"You invited him over?"
"He walked me upstairs."
"And?"
"And I made him breakfast."
"You already told me he made you breakfast."
"I made him breakfast after that."
Another pause.
"So you made him breakfast to thank him for making you breakfast."
"Yes."
"And this makes sense to you?"
"It did."
Trinity laughed again.
"You two are unbelievable."
"We're friends."
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"You actually believe that."
"We are."
"You called him drunk."
"One time." You sighed.
"He left his apartment in the middle of the night to come get you."
"Because he's nice."
"He let you sleep at his place."
"Because I was drunk."
"He gave you his sweatshirt."
"I was cold."
"You cooked for him."
"He cooked for me."
"You went to his apartment."
"He came to mine."
"You had breakfast."
"We were hungry."
"You—"
"TRINITY."
She burst out laughing.
"You have an answer for everything."
"Because there is an answer."
"Mhm."
You sighed dramatically.
"You're impossible."
"No."
Her voice softened.
"You two are."
That made you pause.
"What does that mean?"
"It means..."
She searched for the words.
"I don't think either of you realizes what you're doing."
You frowned.
"We're hanging out."
"You're dating."
"We are not dating."
"Without calling it dating."
"We've seen each other outside of work like twice."
"Exactly, two dates"
You blinked.
"It’s been breakfast twice in the last two days. I don't think that's something super deep.”
Trinity made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan.
"Oh, honey."
You sat up straighter.
"They were dates."
"They were absolutely dates."
"I thought we were just..."
"What?"
"Enjoyinh time together."
There was a long silence.
Then Trinity started laughing so hard you had to pull the phone away from your ear.
"You are unbelievable."
"What?"
"That's literally what dating is."
Your mouth opened.
Then closed.
"Oh."
"You didn't know?"
"I..."
You frowned.
"I genuinely don't know how this works."
That stopped Trinity's laughter.
"Oh."
You picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
"I've never really..."
You shrugged even though she couldn't see you.
"I've never done this."
"Done what?"
"This."
"You've dated before."
"Not like this."
A quiet settled between you.
When Trinity spoke again, her voice had lost all its teasing.
"Are you scared?"
You stared across your apartment.
At the empty chair Jack had been sitting in less than an hour ago.
"Maybe."
"Of him?"
You thought about it.
About the way he'd looked at you over coffee.
The way he'd carried Snoopy around your apartment like he'd belonged there.
The way he'd smiled when you'd laughed.
The way everything with him felt...
Easy.
"No."
Your answer came without hesitation.
"Then what?"
You swallowed.
"I'm scared because it doesn't feel hard."
Silence.
"I'm waiting for it to."
Another pause.
Then Trinity spoke so quietly you almost missed it.
"Maybe it isn't supposed to."
You closed your eyes.
"I don't know."
"I know."
A sad little laugh escaped you.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
"I know."
"And everyone at work keeps looking at us."
"They do."
"And Frank keeps saying weird things."
"He absolutely does."
"And now I'm overthinking breakfast."
"You are."
You let out a long sigh.
"I hate this."
"No."
Trinity smiled through the phone.
"I think you hate that you like him this much."
Your heart stumbled.
"That's…"
You searched for a rebuttal.
Nothing came.
"I don't have a comeback."
"I noticed."
You laughed quietly.
For a minute neither of you spoke.
Finally, Trinity broke the silence.
"So."
"So?"
"When's the third date?"
You groaned loud enough for Snoopy to look offended.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No."
You smiled despite yourself.
"I really don't."
After you hung up, the apartment fell quiet again.
Snoopy jumped onto the couch beside you.
You scratched absentmindedly behind his ears.
Your eyes drifted toward the sweatshirt Jack had folded before leaving.
Then to the empty coffee mug in the sink.
Then to the chair he'd been sitting in.
You let out a slow breath.
"I am in way too deep."
Snoopy purred.
He, apparently, had figured that out hours ago.
its.y/n looking into hibernating permanently
trinsantos get your ass to bed you got work tonight
its.y/n I'm going now :(
melissaking you are pajama snoopy!
its.y/n the biggest compliment
franklangdon Haven't you seen every episode of that show by now
its.y/n and what about it
m.robinavitch get a better taste in shows
Teeny Tiny Taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva @beingniceisntahobby @crossiant31
Ten Point Five: The Morning After
No social media aspect in this chapter just wanted to write this...
Morning came to the ED the way it always did, too bright, too loud, and completely indifferent to the “peace” of the night shift.
The shift settled into that familiar end-of-night haze. Charts were wrapped up, monitors reset, and conversations that had been all business for twelve hours softened into tired murmurs. The kind of exhaustion that settled deep in your bones and didn't fully leave until you were home.
You were finishing your last note at the nurses' station when Jack appeared beside you.
No announcement.
No hesitation.
"Ready?" he asked.
You leaned back in your chair.
"Define ready."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Ready to leave."
That one was easy.
"Yeah." You logged off the computer and pushed your chair in. "I'm ready."
The two of you crossed the department together without thinking about it. It was becoming a problem how naturally you fell into step with each other. How neither of you ever seemed to reach for the same supply at the same time anymore because you already knew what the other was grabbing. How the space between you had quietly disappeared.
Outside, the cold morning air hit like a slap.
You instinctively folded your arms across your chest.
Jack noticed instantly.
Without saying a word, he shrugged out of his jacket and held it toward you.
You looked at it.
Then at him.
"I'm not stealing your jacket."
"You're borrowing it." he corrected.
"That's just stealing with permission."
"Put it on."
You sighed dramatically but slipped it over your shoulders anyway.
It was still warm.
And it smelled like him.
Fresh laundry, coffee, and whatever soap he used.
Annoyingly comforting and familiar.
Jack watched you for half a second longer than he probably meant to before looking away.
You stopped beside the passenger door.
"So..." you said carefully. "I assume I'm actually going home this time?"
Jack unlocked the doors with a click.
"I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"Unless you had somewhere else you wanted to be."
You stared at him.
"No."
A beat.
"Home is good."
Another beat.
"Home is very good."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"It's on my way."
You narrowed your eyes.
"I don't believe you."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"If it was on the way, why didn’t I get to go home after the bar?"
Jack gave you a flat look.
"Traffic.”
You laughed.
"It was almost one in the morning."
"Get in the truck."
You climbed into the passenger seat, still smiling.
Warm air blasted from the vents almost immediately.
You let out a quiet sigh without realizing it.
Jack noticed.
"Told you."
"I didn't say anything."
"You sighed."
"I was appreciating modern engineering."
"You were cold."
"No, I just really appreciate heating and cooling systems."
Jack shook his head, amused, as he pulled out of the parking lot.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
The city slipped by outside the windows, washed in pale morning light. Rush hour hadn't quite started yet. The roads were mostly empty, the silence inside the truck comfortable in a way that only seemed to exist between the two of you.
Eventually, Jack glanced over.
"Are you okay being home?"
You looked out the window.
The question was simple.
But it felt heavier than that.
You leaned back against the seat.
"Yeah."
A beat.
"It was a pretty easy shift."
Jack nodded once.
He accepted the answer.
Or at least pretended to.
Silence settled between you again.
Not awkward.
Never awkward.
Just...
Comfortable.
The kind of quiet that didn't ask to be filled.
Eventually, the truck slowed to a stop outside your apartment building.
You stared out the windshield for a second longer than necessary.
Because getting out meant ending whatever this was.
The comfortable quiet.
The easy conversation.
Being with Jack without twelve patients demanding your attention.
He shifted the truck into park but left the engine running.
"Are you planning on sitting there all morning?" he asked.
You looked over at him.
"I'm thinking."
"That’s dangerous." He chuckled.
"It usually is."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"What're you thinking about?"
You hesitated.
Then tugged his jacket a little tighter around yourself.
"Nothing important."
Jack studied you.
Long enough that you knew he didn't believe you.
But he didn't push.
He never pushed.
Instead, he climbed out of the truck.
You blinked.
"What are you doing?"
He rounded the front of the truck and opened your door before answering.
"I'm walking you up."
"Jack."
"It isn't a big deal."
"It kind of is."
He shrugged.
"I want to."
Three words.
Simple.
Matter-of-fact.
Yet somehow they landed harder than any grand romantic gesture ever could.
You climbed out of the truck.
"You're ridiculous."
"So I've been told."
Side by side, the two of you walked toward your building.
The city was only just waking up.
People hurried to work with coffees in hand while the two of you shuffled along in wrinkled scrubs, running almost entirely on stubbornness.
Neither of you spoke.
You didn't need to.
At your apartment door, you unlocked the deadbolt before glancing over your shoulder.
Jack already had his hands shoved into his pockets.
Like he was preparing to tell you goodbye.
"Well..." he said. "I'll see you tonight."
Something in your chest tightened.
You opened the door.
Then looked back at him.
"Do you want to come in?"
Jack blinked.
"What?"
You immediately started talking faster.
"Before you say no—this is me making up for breakfast."
He frowned.
"You made me breakfast." You explained.
"I know."
"So how are you making up for it?"
"I'm making you second breakfast."
Jack laughed.
"Second breakfast?"
"We just worked twelve hours."
"So?"
"So you should get some rest."
You shook your head.
“I want to do this.”
“Let me correct myself, let me do this.”
Jack couldn't argue with that.
A reluctant smile spread across his face.
"Alright."
You stepped aside dramatically.
"Excellent decision, Doctor."
The apartment was warm.
Comfortably cluttered.
A lived-in sort of cozy.
Your shoes were kicked off almost immediately.
Jack lingered by the door.
"Don't judge me."
"I haven't said anything."
"I can feel you evaluating my decorating choices."
Jack looked around.
Your apartment was made up of all his favorite parts of you.
Jack let his eyes wonder over every picture, trinket, and memory scattered around the living room.
A solid thump echoed somewhere deeper in the apartment.
Jack's attention was directed towards the noise.
"What was that?"
"Snoopy."
Then the unmistakable sound of tiny paws sprinting across hardwood.
"Oh boy."
A black-and-white blur rounded the corner at full speed.
Snoopy didn't hesitate.
Didn't stop to inspect the stranger.
Didn't even acknowledge you.
He launched himself directly at Jack.
"Woah.”
Jack barely managed to catch him before the cat scrambled up his chest, climbed onto his shoulder, and immediately began purring loud enough to shake the room.
You stared.
Then burst out laughing.
"Oh."
Jack looked between you and the cat now draped around his shoulders like a scarf.
"He likes you."
"I noticed."
Snoopy rubbed his face against Jack's jaw.
Aggressively.
Jack stood completely still.
"Am I being mugged?"
"Basically."
"I thought cats were supposed to be cautious."
"Snoopy has terrible stranger danger."
The cat headbutted Jack again.
Hard.
Jack looked genuinely bewildered.
"We've never met."
"He doesn’t care."
"He seems very confident."
"He usually is." You nodded.
Jack carefully shifted Snoopy into his arms like a baby.
The cat settled immediately.
Perfectly content.
Like he'd found exactly where he belonged.
Jack looked down at him.
"I think your cat just adopted me."
You smiled.
"Congratulations."
"I didn't apply."
"He doesn't care."
Jack scratched behind Snoopy's ears without thinking.
The purring somehow got louder.
You pointed accusingly.
"Oh, don't encourage him."
"I don't think I have a choice."
"No."
You grinned.
"You really don't."
You disappeared into the kitchen.
"I'll cook."
Jack followed a few steps behind, Snoopy still occupying his arms.
"You sure?" He asked.
"You made me breakfast."
"I only made pancakes."
"You also made eggs."
"They were overcooked."
"They were edible." You argued.
"Barely."
"I appreciated the effort."
Jack leaned against the counter.
"I think you're grading on a curve."
"I might be biased."
You opened the refrigerator.
"What are you in the mood for?"
"Food."
"Very specific."
"I've been awake for almost twenty hours."
"Fair."
You started pulling ingredients onto the counter.
Eggs.
Cheese.
Spinach.
Bacon.
Jack watched you work.
Comfortable.
Efficient.
Like you'd done this a hundred times.
"You cook a lot?"
You shrugged.
"Sometimes but cooking for one is kind of boring.”
He blinked.
"Either I cook a lot or I eat cereal for four consecutive dinners."
Jack laughed.
"There is no middle ground?"
"None."
"I believe that."
Snoopy finally climbed out of Jack's lap to supervise from a nearby stool.
Which mostly consisted of staring hopefully at the bacon.
Jack watched the two of you.
You humming quietly while you cooked.
Your cat weaving around your legs.
Morning sunlight spilling through the kitchen windows.
It didn't feel like visiting.
It felt...
Dangerously domestic.
Comfortable in a way Jack wasn't prepared for.
He found himself wondering what it would be like if this was normal.
If coming here after a shift wasn't unusual.
If this was simply where he ended every morning.
The thought settled somewhere deep in his chest.
Heavy.
Hopeful.
And more than a little terrifying.
He looked over just as you glanced back at him.
"What?"
He realized he'd been staring.
"Nothing."
You smiled knowingly.
"Liar."
Jack smiled to himself.
Maybe.
The bacon hissed in the pan.
Coffee brewed in the background.
Snoopy had promoted himself from Jack's lap to the kitchen island, where he sat supervising with the authority of a tiny manager.
You pointed a spatula at him.
"I swear to God, if you steal my bacon..."
Snoopy blinked.
Jack looked between the two of you.
"Better make him a plate.”
You rolled your eyes.
“He’s spoiled rotten.”
You plated everything onto two oversized plates before sliding one across the counter toward him.
"Bon appétit."
Jack looked down.
"This looks much better than what I made.”
“Like I said I really wanted to do this.”
The two of you settled across from each other at your tiny kitchen table.
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke.
Just ate.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It rarely was anymore.
Finally, Jack looked up.
"So."
You pointed your fork at him.
"I don't like that tone."
"I haven't said anything."
"You were about to."
He smiled into his coffee.
"People are acting strange."
You snorted.
"When have they not?"
"They've gotten worse."
"Worse how?"
Jack hesitated.
"Frank."
You groaned immediately.
"Of course."
"He asked if I'd 'finally caved.'"
You nearly choked on your coffee.
"He said what?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Oh, he knows exactly what it means."
"I figured."
You shook your head.
"I am going to fight that man."
"I think you'd win."
"I absolutely would."
Jack laughed.
"You threatened to throw a chair at him last month."
"He deserved it." You shrugged.
"He corrected your grammar."
"He corrected it wrong."
Jack couldn't argue with that.
"He also asked if we'd picked out baby names."
You closed your eyes.
"I'm going to kill him."
"He seemed sincere."
"That's the worst part."
Jack smiled to himself before taking another bite.
Then his expression grew thoughtful.
"And Trinity..."
"Oh no."
"Keeps looking at me."
You laughed.
"She looks at everyone like she knows something."
"I think she does."
"She doesn't."
"You sound very confident."
"I'm confident because I know her that's my girl."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"So that's just her face?"
"That's just her face."
A beat.
"She absolutely thinks we're dating though."
You froze halfway through lifting your fork.
"She what?"
Jack nodded.
"I'm pretty sure."
"Why?"
He gave you a look.
"Really?"
"What?"
"We showed up to work together."
"Because you kidnapped me."
"I gave you a place to sleep."
"Exactly."
"You wore my sweatshirt."
"You gave it to me."
"I drove you home."
"Because you insisted."
Jack smiled.
"We disappeared after shift together."
"I needed a ride back home." You countered.
"I walked you upstairs."
"You were being nice."
"You invited me in."
"To repay you."
"You cooked."
"I owed you."
Jack spread his hands.
"You see how this looks?"
You opened your mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"No." You lied.
He noticed.
He laughed.
"You're impossible."
"I just don't think it's weird."
"You don't?"
"No."
You stabbed a piece of bacon.
"We're friends."
Jack nodded slowly.
"Right."
"You don't believe me."
"I didn't say that."
"You thought it."
"I might've thought it."
You pointed your fork at him.
"See? This is the problem."
"What problem?"
"Everyone keeps acting like men and women can't be friends."
Jack hummed.
"They can."
"They absolutely can."
"They usually don't spend every waking hour together."
"We work together."
"They don't usually call each other drunk."
Your face heated immediately.
"That happened once."
"You called me."
"I was intoxicated."
"You asked for me."
"I was emotional."
"You told me you missed me."
"I don't recall saying that." You lied again.
"You absolutely said that."
"I'd like to plead the fifth."
Jack laughed.
"It was very sweet."
"It was deeply embarrassing."
"It was both."
You groaned and buried your face in your hands.
"I hate alcohol."
"No, you hate that your friends will never let you live it down."
"Maybe."
Jack watched you over the rim of his coffee mug.
Quietly.
Comfortably.
Then,
"I didn't mind."
You looked up.
"What?"
"The phone call."
His voice was softer now.
"I didn't mind."
Something warm settled in your chest.
"Oh."
He shrugged.
"I would've come either way."
"I know."
The answer came too quickly.
Too honestly.
Jack held your gaze.
"You knew?"
You nodded.
"I knew."
"How?"
You smiled.
"Because you're you."
He frowned slightly.
"That's your explanation?"
"It's the only one I need."
"You have an incredible amount of faith in me."
You looked genuinely confused.
"Shouldn't I?"
Jack didn't answer.
Because that wasn't really the question.
It wasn't about faith.
It was about the fact that you'd never doubted he'd show up.
Not for a second.
Not even drunk.
Not even at almost two in the morning.
You'd called him because somewhere, deep down, you already knew the answer.
He'd come.
Of course he would.
The realization seemed to hit both of you at the same time.
Neither of you said anything.
Snoopy broke the silence by hopping into Jack's lap again.
Jack absently scratched behind his ears.
You smiled.
"He likes you."
"I'm starting to think he's just hungry."
"No."
You rested your chin in your hand.
"He doesn't do this."
Jack looked down at the cat.
"No?"
"He barely tolerated Patrick."
Jack looked back up.
"Really?"
"He hissed at my landlord once."
Jack snorted.
"Good instincts."
"He only cuddles people he trusts."
Jack looked down at Snoopy again.
The cat had already made himself comfortable.
Eyes closed.
Purring like a tiny engine.
Jack smiled despite himself.
"I think he's confused."
"No."
You smiled softly.
"I think he just knows good people."
Jack looked back at you.
The teasing had disappeared from your voice.
For a second, neither of you looked away.
Then you stood abruptly.
"Okay!"
Your chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"I'm cleaning before this gets weird."
Jack blinked.
"It was already weird."
"I know." Your voice wavered.
"You panicked."
"I absolutely panicked."
Jack laughed.
"You really did."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You yelled 'okay' like the building was on fire."
"It was an emotional emergency."
Jack couldn't stop smiling.
Neither could you.
Neither of you noticed that, somewhere between breakfast, sharing coffee, and a cat asleep in Jack's lap...
Being "just friends" had started requiring an awful lot of explaining.
Teeny TIny Taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare
@biatizsilva @beingniceisntahobby @crossiant31
Ten: Morning
noty/n reporting live from jack abbots bathroom
mateodiaz if you can post on your spam you can answer the gc
trinsantos why the fuck are you in his apt??
noty/n he brought me home. my future home 😸
You woke up feeling like death.
Actual death.
Not the dramatic kind you usually claimed after a bad shift.
The real kind.
The kind where opening your eyes felt like a medical concern.
A groan escaped you as you buried your face deeper into the couch cushion.
Immediately regretting it when your head started pounding and the room spun aggressively.
“Jesus Christ.”
Your own voice hurt your head.
You remained perfectly still.
Maybe if you didn’t move, the hangover would forget about you.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t working.
The smell hit you first.
Bacon.
Coffee.
Something sweet.
Your stomach growled.
Then immediately threatened to empty its contents.
You cracked one eye open.
Sunlight streamed through the apartment windows.
Far too bright.
Far too cheerful.
Far too morning.
Slowly, painfully, you sat up.
The blanket slid into your lap.
Jack’s sweatshirt making you overwhelming hot.
And suddenly pieces of last night started returning.
The bar.
Trinity.
Mel.
Calling Jack.
Oh God.
Calling Jack.
You covered your face with both hands.
“No.”
The memories kept coming anyway.
You missed him.
You told him you missed him.
You remembered that much.
Your embarrassment was interrupted by the sound of a pan clattering in the kitchen.
You peeked over the couch.
Jack was standing at the stove.
Sweatpants.
T-shirt.
Coffee mug nearby.
Cooking breakfast like this was completely normal.
Your brain struggled to process it.
“You cook?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder.
His mouth twitched immediately.
“Good morning.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You cook?”
Jack laughed.
“That’s your takeaway?”
“Why are you cooking?”
“Because you’re hungover.”
You let your head fall against the back of the couch.
“You’re a saint.”
“No.”
“An angel.”
“No.”
“A humanitarian.”
Jack snorted.
You groaned and dragged yourself upright.
Every muscle in your body protested.
“Water.”
“Already got one.”
A glass appeared in front of you the second you reached the kitchen.
You stared at it.
Then at him.
Then back at the glass.
“You scare me sometimes.”
“I know.”
You drank nearly half of it in one go.
Instantly feeling a little more human.
Not much.
But a little.
Jack slid a plate onto the counter.
Eggs.
Pancakes.
Bacon.
The sight alone nearly made you emotional.
“You made me breakfast.”
“I did.”
You pulled out a chair and sat down.
Still wrapped in his sweatshirt.
Still looking like you’d been hit by a truck.
Jack set a mug of coffee beside your plate.
Then sat across from you.
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke.
Just ate.
Enjoyed the quiet.
It was strangely domestic.
Dangerously domestic.
The kind of thing neither of you should’ve been thinking about.
You took another bite.
Then froze.
“Oh no.”
Jack immediately looked up at you.
“What?”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
You dropped your fork.
“I called you.”
Jack’s expression shifted.
Just slightly.
“Yeah.”
“How bad was it?”
The smile he tried to hide made your stomach drop.
“Jack.”
“You want the truth?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then it wasn’t bad.”
You pointed your fork at him.
“That answer means it was bad.”
His smile widened.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“How bad?”
Jack took a sip of coffee.
Thinking.
Then—
“You told me you missed me.”
You immediately dropped your head onto the table.
Jack was sober but you hoped he somehow forgot.
A muffled scream escaped you.
Jack laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound was warm.
Unrestrained.
Far too pleased with your suffering.
“Oh my God.”
“You asked if I wanted to have a sleepover.”
Your face remained firmly planted against the table.
“No.”
“You called me bossy.”
“Stop talking.”
“You informed me I was your favorite person.”
You groaned loud enough to shake the apartment.
Jack was practically grinning now.
“That one was nice, actually.”
You looked up immediately.
His smile faded.
Just slightly.
Like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
For a second, something shifted.
The air between you changing.
Becoming softer.
Quieter.
More comfortable.
More dangerous.
Then you pointed at him.
“You’re never allowed to bring this up again.”
Jack leaned back in his chair.
“That’s not how blackmail works.”
Your eyes widened.
“Blackmail?”
“I haven’t decided what I’m using it for yet.”
“You are unbelievable.”
Jack nodded.
“I know.”
You stared at him for a moment.
Then started laughing.
Partly because he was ridiculous.
Partly because the headache was finally easing.
But mostly because this,
The breakfast.
The teasing.
The comfort.
The ease of being with him—
Felt nice.
Too nice.
The kind of nice that made your chest ache when you thought about it too hard.
Jack seemed to notice your smile lingering.
“What?”
You shook your head.
“Nothing.”
He studied you for a second.
Clearly unconvinced.
But let it go.
Outside, the city was fully awake.
People were heading to work.
Running errands.
Living their lives.
Meanwhile, you were sitting in Jack Abbot’s kitchen eating the breakfast he’d made for you after picking you up from a bar.
And for the first time all morning, a different thought crossed your mind.
Maybe Mel and Trinity were never going to let you live this down.
And maybe you didn't care.
Night shift always felt like slipping into something familiar.
The doors to the ED slid open at 7:00 on the dot, and you and Jack walked in side by side like it was routine.
Like nothing unusual had happened.
Like he hadn't taken you back to his place.
Like he hadn’t made you breakfast.
Like you hadn’t woken up wearing his sweatshirt and tried to pretend that meant absolutely nothing.
“Ready?” Jack asked quietly.
“For what?”
He glanced at you.
“For people to be annoying.”
You sighed.
“They won't be."
"At least I hope."
The moment you stepped onto the floor, it hit immediately.
Trinity’s head snapped up from the nurses station.
Her eyes locked onto you.
Then Jack.
Then back to you.
A slow grin spread across her face.
“Oh.”
You closed your eyes for half a second.
“No.”
Trinity straightened.
“You two—”
“Don’t.” you warned.
But it was too late.
Frank was already leaning over from the charting station like he’d been waiting all day for this exact moment.
“Well, well, well.”
You pointed at him immediately.
“No.”
Frank ignored you completely.
“Did you guys carpool?”
Jack, very calmly, set his chart down.
“Yes.”
Trinity made a sound like she was trying not to explode.
Frank nodded slowly.
“Interesting.”
“Stop saying that word.” you muttered.
Jack shot you a look that very clearly said I told you so about arriving together.
You immediately regretted everything.
Across the department, Robby suddenly appeared at the nurses station.
He took one look at the two of you standing too close, too coordinated, and obviously guilty.
“Dr. Abbot.”
Jack turned.
“Yeah?”
Robby didn’t blink.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
You glanced between them.
That tone was never good.
Jack nodded once and followed him a few steps away.
You tried very hard not to look like you were watching.
You failed.
Robby stopped near the supply room door.
His voice dropped.
“You and Y/N need to be careful.”
Jack frowned slightly.
“With what?”
Robby didn’t sugarcoat it.
“With whatever this is becoming.”
Jack stiffened just a little.
“It’s not—”
Robby cut him off.
“I don’t care what you call it.”
A pause.
Then, quieter:
“This department doesn’t handle complicated well.”
Jack went quiet.
His jaw tightened slightly, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“We’re fine.”
Robby studied him for a beat.
Then nodded once.
“Make sure it stays that way.”
And just like that, he walked away.
Jack stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
When he turned back toward you, your back was to him.
Dana seemed to appear out of thin air blocking you behind the desks.
"How was your night last night." She asked.
She had that look, the same kind a knowing mother would give you.
"Good, had a great time with the girls."
She hummed.
"What did you do?"
"Who did you do?"
Your head snapped up.
Dana wore a sly smirk.
"Dana."
She shrugged.
"Just curious."
Just as Dana left Jack walked back over.
Frank immediately pounced.
“Ohhh, what was that about?”
“Nothing.”
Trinity leaned in.
“That looked like something.”
“It wasn’t.” Jack said flatly.
You stepped in before Frank could spiral further.
“Can we please just work?”
Frank smiled.
“That’s what people say when it’s absolutely not nothing.”
You pointed at him again.
“I’m putting you on a warning.”
“You don’t have authority over me.”
“I emotionally do.”
Trinity laughed.
Jack shook his head, already walking away toward his assignment.
But as he passed you, his shoulder brushed yours.
Barely.
Intentional or not, you couldn’t tell.
But your brain noticed anyway.
And unfortunately, so did Frank.
“Yep.” he said quietly.
You whipped around.
“What?”
He grinned.
“Nothing.”
“Frank.”
“Just observing.”
You sighed.
“I hate all of you.”
And across the ED, Jack didn’t say anything else.
But he stayed a little closer than usual all night.
Like Robby’s warning had settled somewhere under his skin.
And like, despite everything, he wasn’t planning on fixing it.
Teeny Tiny Taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva @beingniceisntahobby @crossiant31
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Nine: Sleepover
i have no clue why there is a content warning 😀
its.y/n girls nite <3
melissaking thank you for coming with us!
its.y/n I will always show up for you Mel king :))
mateodiaz thanks for the invite
its.y/n read the caption and then think about that again
trinsantos my babies
victoria.j sneak me in the bar with you next time
its.y/n as a medical professional I should say no as your friend OKAY
j.abbot stay safe girls
⋆⋆⋆
You were drunk.
Piss drunk.
Long past buzzed.
Long past tipsy.
The kind of drunk where every story was hilarious and every decision felt like a good one.
Which was exactly why your phone was currently in your hands.
Trinity noticed immediately.
“Oh no.”
You looked up.
“What?”
She pointed at your screen.
“Who are you calling?”
You glanced down.
Jack Abbot.
A perfectly reasonable person to call.
Who doesn't call their boss from a crowded bar.
“Nobody.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I smile all the time.”
“You absolutely do not.”
Mel leaned across the table.
“Who is it?”
“Nobody.”
“You just said nobody twice.”
“Because it’s nobody.”
Before you could react, Trinity snatched your phone.
Her eyes widened immediately.
Then she started cackling.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“OH MY GOD.”
You lunged for the phone.
She held it above her head.
“Trinity.” You huffed.
“You are drunk dialing Jack.”
Mel nearly spit out her drink.
“No.”
“YES.”
“Give me that.”
The two of them were laughing so hard they were becoming a spectacle.
You finally managed to grab your phone back.
“It’s not a drunk dial.”
“It is literally a drunk dial.”
“No.”
“Who else have you called tonight?”
You paused.
“No one.”
Mel pointed dramatically.
“Case closed.”
You rolled your eyes.
“I just miss him.”
The second the words left your mouth, both women froze.
Then looked at each other.
Then back at you.
Then immediately burst into laughter again.
“Oh, she’s gone.” Trinity said.
“Absolutely gone.” Mel agreed.
“You guys are awful.”
An embarrassed heat taking over your whole body.
You looked back down at your phone.
Jack’s contact stared back at you.
Your thumb hovered over the call button.
Trinity noticed.
“Do it.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You absolutely were.”
Mel leaned forward.
“Call him.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Why are you encouraging this?”
You had hoped, no prayed that Mel out of the three of you would keep some sort of morale compass.
“Because it’ll be interesting.”
“You’re a terrible friend.”
“I know.” Mel nodded.
“Call him.”
With a dramatic sigh, you hit the button.
The phone started ringing.
Immediately, panic set in.
“Oh my God.”
Trinity slapped a hand over her mouth.
Mel was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Abort mission.”
“Too late.” You frowned.
The phone rang again.
Then—
“Hello?”
Your entire face lit up.
“Jack.”
There was a pause.
A very long pause.
“How drunk are you?”
Trinity folded in half laughing.
Mel buried her face in her hands.
Jack sighed.
The sound somehow made you smile wider.
“Where are you?”
“At a bar.”
“Helpful.”
“There are people.”
“I’m sure there are.”
“And music.”
“Unbelievable.”
You laughed.
Jack immediately sounded suspicious.
“Y/N.”
“What?”
“How much have you had to drink?”
You looked at Trinity.
She held up seven fingers.
You looked at Mel.
She held up both hands.
Traitors.
“A normal amount.”
Jack groaned.
“A number.” He deadpanned.
“A lady never tells.”
“A doctor should.”
You laughed so hard you nearly slipped off your stool.
Jack immediately noticed the noise through the phone.
“Did you almost fall?”
“No.”
“That wasn’t convincing.”
Jack sighed again.
You could practically picture him rubbing a hand over his face.
“Are you with anybody?”
“Trinity and Mel.”
“Good.”
The concern in his voice softened something in your chest.
“Jack?”
“What?”
You smiled.
“I miss you.”
Mel smacked the bar.
Trinity nearly slid out of her chair.
On the phone, silence.
Then—
“You’re drunk.”
“I know.”
“You only say things like that when you’re drunk.”
“Not true.”
“It is absolutely true.”
You thought about it.
“You don't know how I feel.”
A laugh escaped him.
And suddenly the teasing from your friends didn’t matter anymore.
Because you got what you wanted.
You got Jack.
His voice.
His attention.
His laugh.
The familiar comfort of him.
“Which bar are you at?”
You told him.
The line went quiet.
Then—
“Stay there.”
You blinked.
“What?”
“Stay where you are.”
“Why?”
“I’m coming to get you.”
Your stomach did a weird little flip.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Jack, you don’t have to—”
“I’m already grabbing my keys.”
The words came so naturally.
Like there had never been another option.
Like of course he’d come.
You swallowed.
“Oh.”
His voice softened.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“And Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“No more drinks.”
You looked at the fresh drink Mel had just slid toward you.
Then slowly pushed it away.
Mel looked personally offended.
“Oh, that’s crazy.”
“What?”
“You’ve never listened to me that fast.”
You pointed at your phone.
“That’s because Jack said it.”
Jack laughed.
Actually laughed.
And somehow that made your entire night.
⋆⋆⋆
Twenty minutes later the doors to the bar opened.
Mel spotted him first.
“Oh, wow.”
“What?”
“He got here fast.”
Trinity looked over and immediately started grinning.
“Oh, that’s bad.”
You followed their gaze.
And there he was.
Scanning the crowd.
Looking tired.
Slightly annoyed.
And very concerned.
His eyes landed on you.
He visibly relaxed.
Mel caught it immediately.
“So we’re all seeing that, right?”
“Seeing what?” you asked.
“The way he looked relieved the second he found you.”
Your face warmed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Absolutely yes.”
Jack finally made it to the bar.
His eyes immediately landed on you.
“Hi.”
A dopey smile spread across your face.
“There you are.”
His expression softened despite himself.
“Hi.”
Mel looked between the two of you.
Then at Trinity.
Then back at the two of you.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” you asked.
“You two are exhausting.”
Jack frowned.
“What did I do?”
“You showed up.”
“I—”
“And she looks like Christmas morning because you did.”
You dropped your face into your hands.
Trinity was laughing too hard to be helpful.
Jack looked suspiciously interested in the floor.
Which only made Mel laugh harder.
“Okay, I’m leaving before I have to watch this anymore.”
“You are the worst.”
“I know.”
Trinity grabbed Mel and her purse and pointed at Jack.
“Get her home.”
Jack nodded immediately.
“That’s the plan.”
Trinity pointed at you.
“And you.”
“What?”
“Text me tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I need to know if you’re embarrassed.”
You groaned.
Mel cackled.
A few minutes later, Jack’s hand settled lightly against your lower back as he guided you toward the door.
Comforting.
Protective.
Warm.
And despite the alcohol clouding your brain, one thought still managed to break through.
You had called him.
And he’d come.
Just like you hoped he would.
The second the car doors shut, silence settled around you.
Comfortable silence.
The kind that only existed between two people who spent twelve hours at a time together.
Jack pulled out of the parking lot while you immediately melted into the passenger seat.
“Seatbelt.”
You groaned.
“I’m an adult."
“And drunk.”
“That’s unrelated.”
Jack simply waited.
You rolled your eyes before clicking the seatbelt into place.
“There.”
“Thank you.”
The city lights blurred together outside your window.
Your head felt pleasantly fuzzy.
For a while neither of you spoke.
The radio played quietly.
Jack drove.
You fought a losing battle against sleep.
Eventually, something felt off.
You squinted through the windshield.
“Jack.”
“Hm?”
“This isn’t the way to my apartment.”
“It is not.”
You blinked.
Then blinked again.
“Why?”
Jack kept his eyes on the road.
“Because I live closer.”
Your brain took a second to catch up.
“Oh.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I absolutely can.”
You punctuated the statement with a yawn.
Jack didn’t even bother responding.
“You’re sleeping at my place tonight.”
You sat up straighter.
“A sleepover?”
Jack laughed.
“No.”
“It sounds like a sleepover.”
“It isn’t.”
“It kind of is.”
“Y/N.”
“What?”
“Please don’t call it a sleepover.”
That only made you grin.
“You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Jack rubbed a hand over his face.
“This is exactly why.”
You laughed and settled back into your seat.
The truth was, even through the alcohol, you weren’t worried.
Not even a little.
If anything, the idea of crashing at Jack’s felt safe.
Comfortable even.
You trusted him completely.
Which was probably why you didn’t think twice about it.
By the time he pulled into the parking garage beneath his building, you were half asleep.
“Come on.”
You groaned dramatically.
“No.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m tired.”
“I know.”
“Carry me.”
Jack snorted.
“Absolutely not.”
You held your arms out anyway.
A beat passed.
Then another.
Finally, Jack sighed.
“You’re impossible.”
The next thing you knew, an arm was around your shoulders guiding you toward the elevator.
Close enough.
You accepted the compromise.
The elevator ride was quiet.
You were leaning heavily against the wall.
Jack looked annoyingly unaffected by the fact that it was nearly two in the morning.
“Do you always kidnap drunk women from bars?”
“You called me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
The elevator doors opened.
A few moments later, Jack was unlocking his apartment.
You’d never been there before.
The apartment was exactly what you’d expected.
Neat.
Organized.
Everything in its place.
Very Jack.
You stepped inside and looked around.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“You live here.”
Jack stared at you.
“I do.”
“This is weird.”
“You’ve been here for three seconds.”
“Still weird.”
A laugh escaped him.
He tossed his keys into a bowl by the door.
“Bathroom’s down the hall.”
You nodded.
Then immediately wandered in the opposite direction.
“Not that way.”
You turned around.
“Right.”
Jack pointed again.
You saluted him.
He looked exhausted already.
By the time you emerged a few minutes later, he’d disappeared into his bedroom.
You heard drawers opening.
Then he reappeared carrying an oversized Pittsburgh sweatshirt.
“Here.”
You looked down at it.
Then up at him.
Then back at the sweatshirt.
“You want me to wear your clothes?”
Jack immediately regretted his decision.
You could see it on his face.
“Oh no.”
“Jack.”
“Just change into something comfortable.”
You held the sweatshirt dramatically against your chest.
“Jack gave me his sweatshirt.” You sang.
“Y/N.”
“I’m never taking it off.”
You grinned.
A faint blush crept up the back of his neck.
And suddenly that was far more entertaining than anything happening at the bar.
⋆⋆⋆
A little while later you emerged from the bathroom drowning in his smell.
“How do i look?”
You spun in the doorway.
Jack looked up from where he was sitting on the couch.
And froze.
For just a second.
Long enough for you to catch it.
Long enough for something warm to settle in your stomach.
Then he cleared his throat.
“Great”
Very smooth, Abbot.
You smiled to yourself.
“Where am I sleeping?”
“The couch.”
Your smile disappeared.
“What?”
“The couch.”
“You invited me to a sleepover and now you’re making me sleep on the couch?”
Jack dropped his head into his hands.
“It is not a sleepover.”
“It feels like a sleepover.”
“It isn’t.”
You laughed.
Jack pointed toward the couch.
“Blankets are in the basket.”
“Fine.”
You dramatically flopped onto the cushions.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
“Jack?”
He was already halfway down the hall.
“What?”
“Thank you.”
His expression softened.
The teasing disappeared.
The exhaustion stayed.
But underneath it was something warmer.
Something that made your chest hurt a little.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
“No.”
You smiled.
“Still.”
For a moment neither of you moved.
Then Jack nodded once.
“Get some sleep.”
You watched him disappear into his bedroom.
A minute later the apartment went quiet.
And as you curled deeper into his sweatshirt, surrounded by the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric, one sleepy thought crossed your mind.
Jack sure took awfully good care of you.
That reassurance let you fall right asleep.
Jack lasted all of twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of lying in bed staring at his ceiling.
Twenty minutes of telling himself you were fine.
You were asleep.
Safe.
A few feet away.
There was absolutely no reason for him to get up and check on you.
And yet.
With a quiet sigh, Jack pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his crutches.
Just one look.
Then he’d go back to sleep.
The apartment was dark when he stepped into the living room.
Only the glow from a streetlight filtered through the windows.
At first, he thought the couch was empty.
Then he saw you.
Curled awkwardly on your side.
One arm hanging off the couch.
Still wearing his sweatshirt.
Fast asleep.
And somehow…
You hadn’t touched a single blanket.
Jack stared.
The blankets sat exactly where he’d left them.
Folded neatly in the basket.
Unused.
Of course.
He should have known.
You were the same person who could fall asleep in the break room sitting upright.
The fact that you’d ignored every blanket in the apartment was honestly the least surprising thing about tonight.
A fond smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Unbelievable.”
You didn’t stir.
Jack crossed the room quietly.
Careful not to wake you.
Up close he could see how deeply asleep you were.
Your hair was a mess.
One cheek squished into the couch cushion.
Mouth slightly open.
Completely defenseless.
Completely comfortable.
Because you trusted him.
The thought settled heavily in his chest.
Jack reached down and carefully pulled one of the blankets over you.
The second it touched you, you instinctively burrowed deeper into it.
He nearly laughed.
Even asleep you were dramatic.
For a moment he just stood there.
Watching.
Taking in the sight.
The blanket tucked around your shoulders.
The peaceful expression on your face.
You looked softer when you slept.
The reality hit him harder than usual in the quiet of the apartment.
So much life ahead of you.
So many things you still wanted.
Jack swallowed hard.
The familiar insecurity settled into his chest.
The one he tried not to think about.
The one that never seemed to go away.
His eyes drifted over your face.
Then quickly away again.
Dangerous.
This was dangerous.
Because somewhere along the way he’d stopped looking forward to seeing you at work.
He expected it.
Needed it.
Because somewhere along the way your laugh had become his favorite sound.
And because somewhere along the way he’d fallen completely and utterly in love with you.
You shifted suddenly.
Mumbling something unintelligible.
Jack froze.
A sleepy frown crossed your face.
Then—
“Jack.”
His heart nearly stopped.
You were still asleep.
Barely conscious.
Just dreaming.
Yet somehow you’d still said his name.
Your frown disappeared.
You settled deeper into the couch.
Comfortable again.
Jack let out a slow breath.
A helpless smile finding its way onto his face.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Soft.
Affectionate.
Dangerously honest.
You didn’t hear it.
Didn’t react.
Just continued sleeping.
Probably for the best.
After another moment, Jack carefully brushed a piece of hair away from your face.
A simple gesture.
One he’d never be brave enough to do while you were awake.
Then he stepped back.
Giving himself some distance before he did something stupid.
Like stay.
Like keep watching you sleep.
Like start imagining things he had no business imagining.
“Goodnight, little lamb.”
The old nickname felt different now.
Heavier.
Not quite innocent anymore.
Not after tonight.
Not after the way his chest tightened every time you smiled at him.
Not after the way he’d dropped everything to come get you.
Not after the way you’d called him first.
Jack lingered for one final second.
Completely unaware that if he’d stayed another thirty seconds, he would’ve heard your sleepy voice drift through the darkness.
Barely above a whisper.
“Night, Jack.”
Still asleep.
Still dreaming.
And smiling.
teeny tiny taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva @beingniceisntahobby @croissant31 @plumpsugarplum
Eight: Patrick
for an smau I am lacking on the sm aspect...
its.y/n patty boy came to visit :)
trinsantos bring me leftovers
its.y/n there are no leftover #lickedtheplateclean
trinsantos lick me clean
its.y/n omw!!
franklangdon interesting
mateodiaz ^^
its.y/n get hobbies
In all honesty, the date with Patrick was not a date in the slightest.
Patrick had been a family friend growing up. The two of you had been attached at the hip as kids.
Sleepovers.
Family vacations.
Countless summers spent getting into trouble together.
He had always been a quiet constant in your life. Someone you could go months without talking to and somehow pick right back up where you left off.
Patrick was back in town because his wife had passed away.
He needed friendship.
He needed someone to listen.
He needed somewhere to put all the grief he’d been carrying around.
That was something you knew how to offer.
The two of you had talked on the phone most days leading up to his visit. Sometimes for ten minutes. Sometimes for hours.
You listened when he needed to vent.
You let him talk about his wife when nobody else seemed to know what to say.
You sat in silence when words weren’t enough.
Dinner had gone exceptionally well.
Patrick had laughed.
Actually laughed.
More than once.
By the end of the night he looked lighter than he had in months.
It felt good.
It felt good to be there for someone without the risk of bodily fluids.
When he pulled up outside the hospital, he smiled.
“Thank you.”
You looked over.
“For what?”
“For tonight.”
You reached across the center console and squeezed his hand.
“Anytime.”
His smile softened.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You better.”
Patrick laughed.
“I’ll see you before I leave town.”
“You better do that too.”
He shook his head.
“Bossy.”
“You knew that already.”
“I did.”
You climbed out of the car and waved as he drove away.
Then you headed back toward the emergency department.
You were only there to grab your things.
Your backpack.
Your charger.
The snacks you’d forgotten in your locker.
Maybe your dignity if nobody had stolen that too.
The familiar sounds of the ED greeted you the second the doors slid open.
Monitors beeping.
Phones ringing.
Constant chatter.
Home sweet home.
You made it about halfway to the locker room before spotting a familiar figure at the nurses’ station.
Jack.
He was staring at a computer screen with an expression that suggested someone had recently made a very questionable decision.
You smiled automatically.
“Hey.”
Jack looked up.
For a second he just stared.
Like he hadn’t expected to see you again tonight.
Then he recovered.
“Hey.”
You walked over, resting your forearms against the counter.
“How’s the shift?”
“Busy.”
You winced.
“My condolences.”
A corner of his mouth twitched.
“You coming back?”
You laughed.
“God, no.”
Something in his shoulders relaxed.
Subtle.
But noticeable.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Was that relief?”
“Absolutely.”
“Rude.”
“You spent twelve hours complaining about working day shift.”
“I spent eleven and a half.”
“Twelve.”
“Agree to disagree.”
Jack shook his head.
Then his eyes drifted over you.
Your dress.
Your hair.
The effort.
Your stomach did an annoying little flip.
“How was dinner?”
“It was good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You smiled.
“Patrick needed it.”
Jack frowned slightly.
“Needed it?”
You nodded.
“His wife passed away last month.”
The change in his expression was immediate.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You looked down at your hands finding your fingers very interesting.
“He’s been having a hard time.”
For a moment neither of you spoke.
You could practically see the pieces clicking into place behind his eyes.
“It wasn’t really a date.”
The words slipped out before you thought about them.
Not because you were trying to explain yourself.
Just because it was true.
“We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
Jack nodded slowly.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Most people don’t.”
Another brief silence settled between you.
Not awkward.
Just quiet.
Then Jack cleared his throat.
“You looked nice.”
Your brain immediately short-circuited.
“What?”
His eyes dropped right back to the computer.
“Tonight.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks.
“Oh.”
You laughed nervously.
“Thanks.”
Jack nodded once.
The silence that followed felt different.
Softer somehow.
You glanced toward the locker room.
“I should grab my stuff and get out of here.”
“Probably.”
You took a few steps backward.
“Try not to let the place burn down.”
“No promises.”
“Concerning.”
“It should be.”
You laughed.
A small smile appeared on Jack’s face.
You pointed immediately.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The smile.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
You grinned.
“Goodnight, Jack.”
His gaze met yours for just a second.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
For some reason, the way he said it stayed with you long after you’d left the hospital.
teeny tiny taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva
Seven: Normal
guys I'm so sorry that the story parts keep getting longer I forgot it was a smau...
Jack had a pit in his stomach.
There was a guy.
And somehow that felt worse than if it had been Frank.
Frank never bothered him.
Not really.
Sure, the two of you were close. Annoyingly close sometimes. But Jack understood it.
He knew the friendship you had with Frank.
The late-night texts.
The endless teasing.
The way Frank would show up at your apartment uninvited and somehow leave with a home cooked meal.
It never felt threatening.
Frank was part of your world.
This guy wasn’t.
This guy existed completely outside of the hospital.
Outside the chaos.
Outside twelve-hour shifts and trauma alerts and cafeteria dinners eaten standing up.
Jack could only assume he had a normal life.
The kind of life you always talked about wanting.
The realization sat heavily in his chest.
Because he remembered those conversations.
The quiet hours of night shift when the emergency department finally settled down.
The moments between patients when you’d sprawl across an empty gurney while Jack finished charting nearby.
Those conversations had always felt dangerous.
Not because of what was said.
Because of how easy and natural it was.
You’d tell each other things nobody else knew.
Dreams.
Regrets.
Fears.
The things people usually kept locked away unless they were being told to those they trust.
One night you’d been talking about the future.
Jack couldn’t even remember how the conversation had started.
He just remembered you smiling.
“I don’t want to do this forever.”
Jack had glanced up from his computer.
“No?”
You shook your head.
“I love it.”
There had been a long pause.
“But one day I want a normal life.”
Normal.
The word felt foreign in a place like the emergency department.
“What does that look like?” he’d asked.
You’d smiled immediately.
Like you’d already thought about it a hundred times.
“A house.”
Jack nodded.
“A guy.”
His stomach tightened.
“A couple kids.”
He kept his eyes on the chart in front of him.
“Maybe two.”
“Only two?”
You shrugged.
“Three if they’re cute.”
Jack laughed despite himself.
Then you’d sat up slightly.
“Oh.”
“And another cat.”
“A second cat.”
“The addition is non-negotiable.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“Snoopy's friend is the most important part.”
“More important than the husband?”
“Absolutely.”
“You should probably warn him about that.”
“He’ll learn.”
Jack remembered laughing.
Remembered how happy you’d looked talking about it.
Remembered the warmth in your voice.
And most of all—
He remembered the way his heart had sunk.
Just a little.
Because while you were describing your future, Jack had realized something.
To his knowledge none of it included him.
Not because you didn’t want him there.
Because it simply wasn’t realistic.
You were in your twenties.
Young enough that the future still felt wide open.
Jack was pushing fifty.
Closer to retirement than residency.
You talked about children.
Jack thought about retirement plans.
You talked about buying a house.
Jack thought about how many years he’d spent sleeping in call rooms.
The math never worked.
No matter how much he wished it did.
And that was before considering everything else.
The age difference.
The hospital.
The fact that he was technically your boss.
Every reason he had spent years carefully keeping whatever this was buried deep beneath professionalism.
So when he heard there was a guy,
A real guy. A normal guy.
Someone who could actually give you the life you wanted,
The jealousy surprised him.
Because it wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t even resentment.
It was something worse.
The quiet realization that if you found someone like that…
He wouldn’t have a single good reason to stand in the way.
And that thought stayed with him long after the shift ended.
Long after everyone else had gone home.
Long after the emergency department had finally gone quiet.
Because for years Jack had convinced himself that not saying anything was the right thing to do.
But some nights he couldn’t help wondering if one day he’d look up and discover he’d waited too long.
That you’d found the life you’d always wanted.
And he’d be left wishing he’d been selfish just once.
—
“I hear you have a date.”
You didn’t even look up from your clipboard.
Instead, you hummed.
“And who told you that?”
Trinity appeared beside you at the nurses’ station, entirely too pleased with herself.
“Does it matter?”
You finally glanced over.
One look at her face and you already knew.
“Mateo overheard Abbot talking to Robby.”
The bright pink clipboard slipped straight out of your hands.
It hit the floor with a loud smack before skidding several feet across the emergency department.
The noise was loud enough that a few heads turned.
Including Robby’s.
And, unfortunately, Jack’s.
You ignored all of them.
“Come with me.”
Trinity barely had time to protest before you grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the locker room.
The second the door closed behind you, you spun around.
“What did he hear?”
Trinity’s eyes widened.
“Jesus.”
“What did he hear?”
“Nothing!”
You pointed at her.
“That tone says otherwise.”
“Okay, maybe not nothing.”
You groaned.
“Trinity.”
She held up her hands.
“All I know is that Jack mentioned to Robby that you might be seeing someone.”
Your head hit the locker behind you.
Hard.
“Oh my god.”
“That’s literally all I know.”
Trinity shrugged.
"How does he know?"
“Why does he care?”
You immediately regretted saying it.
Because Trinity’s expression changed.
The amusement disappeared.
Replaced by the same look everyone had apparently been giving you lately.
A look that said, Are you serious?
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am serious.”
“No.”
“Trinity—”
“You are not dumb.”
You winced.
“So stop acting like you are.”
You stared at the floor.
She crossed her arms.
“He’s into you.”
The words landed with all the grace of a truck.
You groaned and buried your face in your hands.
Because the worst part wasn’t hearing it.
The worst part was that lately…
You weren’t entirely sure she was wrong.
Not after the forehead kiss.
Not after his panic when you’d been admitted.
Not after every weird look and every moment that seemed impossible to explain away.
Admitting you might have been wrong, however, was not something you planned on doing at seven in the morning.
Especially before coffee.
“But it’s just Patrick he’s not—”
The locker room door opened.
Both of you jumped.
Jack stood in the doorway.
Holding your clipboard.
His eyes moved between the two of you.
Not suspicious.
Just confused.
“Missing something?”
You immediately lowered your hands.
“Yep.”
Smooth.
Very smooth.
Jack held the clipboard out.
You took it.
Trying not to think about the fact that he’d apparently been the one to pick it up.
Trying even harder not to think about how long he’d been standing outside the door.
“Thanks.”
“Mm-hmm.”
For a second it felt like he wanted to say something else.
Instead he nodded toward the department.
“Let’s finish up so you can get out of here, okay?”
The concern in his voice was casual.
Routine.
The same way he always sounded when you’d been running around for twelve straight hours.
And somehow that made it worse.
You nodded.
“Okay.”
Jack stepped back into the hallway.
You followed.
The second you passed him, you could practically feel Trinity’s eyes burning holes into the back of your head.
The department had mostly settled into the controlled chaos of shift change.
People giving reports.
Charts being signed.
Coffee being acquired.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
Except suddenly it didn’t feel normal anymore.
Because for years you’d convinced yourself you were imagining things.
That the lingering looks meant nothing.
That the concern was professional.
That the way Jack always seemed to find you in a crowded department was just coincidence.
You’d spent so much time hiding your feelings that eventually you’d started pretending they weren’t there at all.
Now that strategy was beginning to backfire.
Because if Trinity was right—
If everyone else had figured it out before you had—
Then maybe the problem wasn’t that you’d hidden your feelings too well.
Maybe the problem was that neither of you had hidden them nearly as well as you thought.
—
You were finishing a chart when movement near the entrance caught your eye.
Patrick.
A smile immediately spread across your face.
“You’re early!”
You crossed the department before he could even say hello and pulled him into a hug.
Patrick laughed.
“My flight got in early.”
When you stepped back, he smiled down at you.
“I’m okay with waiting.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“It’s fine.”
You grabbed his hand for a second and tugged him farther inside.
“Come sit.”
Patrick followed easily.
“I just need to change and finish a couple things.”
“No rush.”
You pointed toward an empty chair.
“Stay there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A permanent smile seemed glued to your face as you headed toward the locker room.
You didn’t notice the eyes following you.
Across the Pit, three men stood watching the interaction unfold.
Robby.
Frank.
And Jack.
Frank’s mouth twitched.
Then he clapped Jack on the shoulder.
Hard.
“Hey.”
Jack didn’t look away from Patrick.
“What?”
“He’s pretty young.”
Jack closed his eyes.
Frank continued.
“Might actually be her age.”
“Frank.” Robby warned.
“What?”
“Stop.”
Frank looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Meanwhile Robby was studying Patrick from across the department.
“He does look normal.”
Jack hated how much that word bothered him.
Normal.
Not a doctor.
Not hospital staff.
Not someone who measured time in shifts and traumas.
Just… normal.
Patrick laughed at something one of the nurses said.
Jack looked away.
Immediately.
Unfortunately, his brain supplied the comparison anyway.
Patrick was younger.
Easier.
The kind of guy who could give you everything you’d always talked about wanting.
A life outside the hospital.
Weekends.
Holidays.
A future that didn’t revolve around emergency medicine.
Jack shoved the thought down before it could go any further.
“Don’t worry about it.”
The words came out flatter than intended.
Robby glanced at Trinity who had joined the men.
“Seriously.”
Jack looked over.
Robby shrugged.
“She barely mentioned him to any of us.”
That got Jack’s attention.
He knew the connections you had with Trinity and the others.
“What?”
Robby looked genuinely confused.
“You think if she was really excited we’d have heard about it.”
Frank laughed.
“Oh, that’s actually true.”
Trinity pointed.
“Exactly.”
“She once spent three hours talking about a movie she liked.”
Frank noted.
“It was a really good movie.” Jack said.
“She gave us updates from the theater.”
Trinity shook her head.
“My point is, she doesn’t keep things inside.”
Robby nodded.
“If she’s excited about something, everyone knows.”
Jack hated that the comment made him feel better.
Because it shouldn’t.
It absolutely shouldn’t.
And yet…
Your shift had been surprisingly normal.
You’d mentioned Patrick a handful of times.
Not by name, nothing more than "a friend".
Never gushed.
Never rambled.
Never done that thing where you got excited and started talking with your hands.
The thing you did when something genuinely mattered to you.
Frank seemed to reach the same conclusion.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Santos makes a point.”
“I know.” Jack admitted.
Frank grinned.
“But I’m just saying.”
Jack looked over.
Frank nodded toward Patrick.
“She seems happy to see him.”
The pit in Jack’s stomach returned immediately.
Then Frank continued.
“But she doesn’t look nervous.”
Jack frowned.
“Nervous?”
“You know.”
Frank gestured vaguely.
“The way people look when they really like somebody.”
Robby nodded.
“That’s true.”
Jack hated that he was listening to this conversation.
He hated it even more that part of him was analyzing every word.
Across the department, Patrick was scrolling through his phone while he waited.
A perfectly normal guy.
Waiting patiently for his date.
Then you emerged from the locker room.
Your hair was down now.
Your scrubs traded for normal clothes.
You smiled the second you spotted Patrick.
The smile was warm.
Easy.
Comfortable.
Not nervous.
Not breathless.
Comfortable.
Patrick stood immediately.
You said something that made him laugh.
Then together, the two of you headed for the exit.
Just before walking through the doors, you glanced back.
Your eyes landed on the group.
You waved.
A quick, casual goodbye.
Then you were gone.
The doors slid shut behind you.
Silence settled over the group.
Frank looked at Jack.
Robby looked at Jack.
Jack stared at the chart in front of him.
Then finally sighed.
“Can you two get back to work so I can leave?”
Robby gave Jack a knowing look.
While it was supposed to be reassuring all it did was make Jack think about you.
And right now that was the last thing he wanted to do.
teeny tiny taglist: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee @shortqueershakespeare @biatizsilva
Broken Window Serenade
Chapter 1 ♱ 1.8k words
series masterlist
cw: mention of drug overdoes
Being paged to the emergency department was never a good feeling.
You only got called down there for a very specific set of problems.
Usually the kind that left everyone involved i. tears in one way or another.
“Can you fill me in?” you asked, taking the chart from Robby.
The two of you stood outside the room.
Through the glass door, you caught a glimpse of a woman sitting rigid in a chair beside the bed. A little girl pressed against her side. Neither of them were crying.
That was somehow worse.
In the bed, a man lay unconscious beneath too-white sheets.
Robby kept his voice low.
“Wife found him unresponsive in their bathroom. Suspected heroin overdose.”
Your eyes dropped to the chart.
Thirty-six.
Married.
No previous admissions.
You exhaled quietly.
“What’re his chances?”
Robby didn’t hesitate.
“Low. Extremely low.”
One thing you respected about him was he never softened things because they were painful. You respected honesty no matter how painful.
You nodded once.
“I’ll go upstairs and pull together resources. Family support, treatment information… whatever they might need.”
Robby glanced through the window.
“We’re keeping him comfortable for now.”
That wording.
Not stabilizing.
Not observation.
You knew what it meant.
“Just get it to them before they leave.”
You swallowed and nodded.
Across the station Cassie caught your eye.
You walked over.
“What’s the story?” she asked quietly, motioning toward the room.
“Suspected heroin overdose. Wife found him. Daughter’s here.”
Cassie looked through the glass.
Her face tightened for half a second before she looked away.
“That’s brutal.”
You nodded.
For a second neither of you said anything.
Then Cassie said quietly.
“Thank god we figured our shit out before we had kids.”
You looked at her.
There wasn’t judgment in it.
Just understanding.
You both knew people who never got the chance.
You looked back toward the room.
“Yeah.”
Cassie glanced at you and that was enough.
You cleared your throat.
“I’m gonna grab resources for her. I’ll catch you before I’m off.”
She nodded.
You turned and nearly walked directly into someone coming the opposite direction.
Solid shoulder.
Chart in hand.
“Oh shit.”
The man stepped back immediately.
“No, sorry. That was me.”
You adjusted your grip on the folder.
“You’re okay.”
You gave a quick apologetic smile before continuing down the hallway.
You were already making a mental list.
Family packet.
Information for children impacted by substance use.
Bereavement resources.
Local support groups.
Something kind for the daughter.
You didn’t notice the man glance back once before turning toward the nurses station.
Frank leaned against the counter.
“Who was that?”
Cassie looked up from her charting.
“Y/n?”
Frank nodded.
“She’s one of the addiction counselors upstairs.”
Cassie clicked through another screen.
“She consults down here now.”
Frank nodded.
Cassie kept typing.
Then, casually,
“She’s also a friend.”
Frank looked over.
Cassie shrugged.
“We go way back.”
He nodded once.
“That’s cool.”
Cassie looked at him for a second.
Not because he asked.
People asked about people all the time.
But Frank usually didn’t.
She looked back at her screen.
After a second she added—
“She’s good people.”
Frank hummed quietly and pushed off the counter.
Cassie watched him walk away.
Interesting.
When you came back down to the ED, the folder in your hand felt heavier than paper should.
Your mind was still half upstairs, back in your office.
Specifically haunted by a picture frame on the corner of your desk.
A first day of school picture that almost cost you an arm and a leg.
You pushed it aside as you stepped fully into the department.
No Cassie.
You checked the trauma rooms.
Nothing.
Someone was asking for supplies. Someone else was getting a report. A monitor started alarming somewhere down the hall.
Normal for them foreign for you.
You spotted Cassie across the department for half a second before someone stopped her. She looked over, saw you, then the folder, and pointed vaguely toward the nurses station before disappearing into a room.
Helpful.
You stood there for a second.
Then,
“Need something?”
You looked over.
The guy from earlier.
Same scrubs. Same chart.
A name tag that read Frank.
You lifted the folder slightly.
“I was looking for Cassie.”
He glanced toward where she’d gone.
“Just got pulled to room six.”
Of course.
You nodded.
“Just needed to get these to the family.”
His eyes dropped to the folder.
He understood immediately.
Looked toward the room.
Then back to you.
“You want someone medical in there?”
You blinked.
“What?”
He shrugged.
“Families usually ask questions.”
Not pressure.
Just practical.
You looked at him for a second.
Then nodded once.
“Yeah.”
He pushed off the counter.
The two of you walked down the hall.
Neither of you said anything.
Outside the room you stopped.
Through the glass the little girl was asleep curled against her mother’s side. The wife stared forward, unmoving.
Frank looked in for a moment.
“Robby talked to her already.”
You nodded.
Your grip tightened slightly on the folder.
Frank glanced at you.
“You okay?”
You looked at him.
A beat.
Not defensive.
Just registering the question.
Then you looked back through the glass.
“Yeah.”
Another beat.
“Just hate when kids are involved.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not sympathy. Something quieter. More contained.
“Yeah,” he said.
No follow-up.
No attempt to pull anything out of you.
After a second he reached for the door.
Paused.
Looked at you.
“You ready?”
It wasn’t performative.
Just the same tone he’d used the entire time—practical, steady.
You hesitated only briefly.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.”
He opened the door.
You went in together.
Frank got straight to it.
Your husband is dying and there is nothing we can do.
The wife didn’t look surprised when Frank said it.
That was the first thing you noticed.
Not shock.
Not denial.
Just a slow acceptance, like she’d already been standing at the edge of it and was waiting for someone to confirm her fears..
Frank stayed steady beside you.
The monitor behind the curtain kept its rhythm. Too slow for anyone's liking.
The wife looked at him first.
“Okay.” she said quietly.
Then, after a beat that stretched too long to be comfortable,
“Can I ask… how long?”
Frank didn’t sugarcoat it.
“We don’t know exactly. But it’s not going to be days.”
Her breath caught, but she held it together. Barely.
Her eyes shifted away from the bed to the floor.
Then to her daughter still asleep against her shoulder.
That was where it changed.
Not for her husband.
For her.
“I don’t know what to do with her.” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
It was the first thing she’d said that wasn’t about him.
You stepped in slightly, careful not to crowd Frank’s space but closing the distance enough that she could hear you clearly.
“We can help with that.” you said.
Her eyes flicked to you.
Sharp for a second. Protective.
“She doesn’t know what’s happening.” the wife said quickly. “She thinks he’s just… sleeping.”
Frank spoke gently, but directly.
“She will need to know.” he said. “Just not all at once.”
A pause.
The wife shook her head slightly.
“I can’t say it right.”
You nodded once.
“That’s okay.”
That made her look at you again.
Not because it solved anything.
Because you didn’t correct her.
You leaned slightly against the counter, keeping your voice low.
“You don’t have to explain it perfectly. Just enough that she understands he isn’t waking up. And that she’s not in trouble or at fault for being here.”
The wife’s face tightened at that last part.
Frank’s gaze shifted briefly to the sleeping girl.
Then back to the chart.
The wife swallowed.
“She’s going to ask to see him.”
Frank nodded once.
“She should.” he said.
Simple. No hesitation.
The wife’s eyes filled, but the tears didn’t fall yet.
“Is that… is that going to be bad for her?”
You answered that one.
“No.” you said. “Not if she’s prepared. Not if she’s not alone.”
Silence again.
This one heavier.
The wife looked down at her daughter’s hand curled into her shirt.
“I don’t want her last memory of him to be…” she stopped, unable to finish it.
Frank spoke quietly.
“It won’t be.”
That landed.
Not comforting exactly.
But solid.
You watched the wife breathe through it, trying to decide what kind of strength she had left.
Finally, she nodded once.
“I need a minute.” she said.
You guys gave her the minute without saying anything else.
Frank stepped out first, you following close behind.
The door clicked shut behind you, soft but final in a way that stuck.
Out in the hallway, the noise of the ED came back immediately, too bright, too fast, too alive for what was happening in the room behind you.
Neither of you moved right away.
Frank leaned lightly against the cart outside the room, rolling his pen between his fingers without really looking at it.
You set the empty folder down on the workstation.
A pause settled between you.
Not uncomfortable.
Just unclaimed.
Frank exhaled once.
“They’re gonna need follow-up.” he said.
“Yeah.” you replied. “I made sure to leave my info with everything else.”
He nodded like he expected nothing less.
Another beat.
A nurse passed behind you, asking for a set of vitals. Somewhere down the hall a monitor started chirping and was immediately shut down by a reset.
Normal life resuming around a room that wasn’t.
Frank glanced toward the door.
“She’s more worried about the kid than anything else.” he said.
You nodded.
“Yeah. That’s usually how it goes.”
You didn’t say it like a statement about families.
Just something you’d seen too many times to dress up.
Frank looked at you then, properly.
Not long.
Just enough to register you.
“You’re good at that.” he said.
You huffed quietly, almost a laugh.
“Oh please.”
“I’m serious.”
You didn’t respond to that.
Instead, you picked the empty folder back up, straightened it on instinct, trying to keep your hands busy.
A beat passed.
Frank pushed off the counter.
“I’ll swing by later if they have questions.” he said.
“Yeah.” you replied. “I’ll probably still be up there if you need anything.”
He nodded once.
Then, like the conversation had reached its natural end rather than a forced stop, he started to turn away.
You shifted your weight, already mentally moving back to your next thing.
“Alright,” you said lightly. “See you around.”
You didn’t think much of it.
Just something people said in hallways like this.
Frank paused for half a step.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.” he said. “See you around.”
And then he was gone into the flow of the department, like he had never stopped moving in the first place.
You stood there a second longer and headed back upstairs.
𝔣𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔟𝔞𝔤 | 𝔣.𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔫
frank langdon x fem! reader
'Cause I'm just a fleabag, nobody loves me
Send me to rehab, somebody touch me
⋆♱✮♱⋆
⋆♱✮♱⋆
Recovery taught you a lot of things.
How to sit with discomfort. How to ask for help. How to keep moving forward even when it would’ve been easier not to.
If you’d asked ten years ago where you’d end up, this wouldn’t have made the list.
You certainly wouldn’t have guessed you’d be sober, raising a daughter on your own, and working as an addiction counselor at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. These days your world revolved around school pickups, forgotten lunchboxes, and long shifts talking people through the worst moments of their lives.
It wasn’t always easy, but it was yours.
Stable. Predictable, even.
Then there was Cassie McKay.
You’d met Cassie years ago in NA, long before either of you worked at Pittsburgh Trauma. She was one of the few people who remembered the version of you from before sobriety, before stability, before you figured out how to build something resembling a life.
Unfortunately, that also meant she thought she knew exactly what was best for you.
Which was how you’d somehow ended up agreeing to a date with Frank Langdon.
A man you’d met exactly twice. A man who seemed perpetually exhausted. A man who, according to Cassie, was “perfect for you.”
You were still trying to figure out how she’d convinced you to believe her.
Broken Window Serenade
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
something something when you are small and scared but there is someone who is more small and more scared
Six: Joey, Pacey, and Dawson
“He kissed me and then denied it.”
Frank blinked.
“What?”
“He said a forehead kiss is nothing.”
Frank’s jaw practically hit the floor.
For a second, he just stared at you.
Then he leaned back in his chair and laughed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Frank.”
You rolled your eyes.
He pointed at you.
“Arguably, a forehead kiss is worse than if he’d just kissed you on the mouth.”
You sat up straighter.
“Thank you!”
“That’s relationship behavior.”
“THANK YOU.”
Frank shook his head in disbelief.
“That man is unbelievable.”
“He looked me dead in the eyes and said it wasn’t a kiss.”
“That’s because he panicked.”
“He did not panic.” You argued.
Defending Jack Abbot until you die.
“He absolutely panicked.”
You crossed your arms.
“Whatever.”
Frank studied you for a moment before smirking.
“You know, maybe if you stayed in your age bracket, this wouldn’t be happening.”
You groaned.
“You think you’re so wise.”
“I am.”
“You’re thirty-five.”
“And?”
“You act like you know everything.”
Frank placed a dramatic hand over his chest.
“I understand young relationships.”
“You understand taxes.”
“I understand people.”
“You understand hockey.”
Frank reached across the table for your hands.
“I understand you.”
You immediately pulled them away.
“Frank, get real.”
“What?”
“You could not handle me.”
The smirk that spread across his face was immediate.
“Oh?”
“Don’t.”
“Oh, we are definitely talking about this now.”
You pointed at him.
“You’re sexy, yes.”
Frank sat up a little straighter.
“But you’re also like… bro.”
The smile vanished.
“Bro?”
“Bro.”
“Bro?”
“Correct.” You smiled.
Frank looked personally offended.
“So let me get this straight.”
You nodded.
“You’re attracted to me.”
“Objectively.”
“But I’m ‘bro.’”
“Yes.”
Frank stared at you.
You shrugged.
“It’s like I’m Joey, you’re Dawson, and Jack is Pacey.”
Frank blinked.
“What?”
“Dawson’s Creek.”
“You’re comparing us to a teen drama?”
You nodded like it was obvious.
Frank looked horrified.
You rolled your eyes.
“Obviously I only surround myself with absolute baddies.”
Frank barked out a laugh.
“So humble.”
“I’m serious.”
You started counting on your fingers.
“You. Mel. Trinity. Jack.”
Frank immediately perked up.
“Interesting.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying I have attractive friends god forbid I’m attracted to one of you or two I suppose.”
You ignored him.
“All my friends are hot.”
Frank laughed.
“So generous of you.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I hate talking to you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No” Frank admitted with a sigh. “I really don’t.”
The two of you sat there grinning at each other.
Then Frank’s expression shifted.
Just slightly.
“So where exactly does Jack fall on this scale?”
You immediately groaned.
“I knew this was coming.”
“You literally put him on the list.”
“Because he’s hot.”
Frank pointed triumphantly.
“HA.”
“That proves nothing.” You shook your head.
“You said it with your whole chest.”
“Everyone knows Jack is attractive.”
“Not everyone nearly dies from appendicitis and spends recovery talking about a forehead kiss.”
Your mouth opened. Then closed.
Frank’s grin widened.
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t.”
“Oh my God, you’re so down bad.”
You grabbed a pillow and launched it at his head.
Frank caught it effortlessly.
Still laughing.
Which somehow made it worse.
“So, like… definite zero percent chance we hook up?”
You snorted.
Trust Frank to ask that with absolutely no shame.
You finished your drink and set the glass on the table.
“Refill my cup and I’ll think about it.”
Frank was moving before you even finished the sentence.
“That’s all it takes?”
The glass disappeared from your hand.
“Frank—”
“Nope. Too late.”
You watched him disappear into the kitchen.
A second later cabinets started opening.
“You don’t even know where anything is!”
“I’ll figure it out!”
“You are not allowed to rummage through my house!”
“I am literally bringing you alcohol.”
You shook your head.
“You’re so easy.”
A moment later he returned victorious, carrying the bottle and your freshly refilled drink.
He set it down with an exaggerated flourish.
“There.”
You looked at the drink.
Then at him.
Then back at the drink.
Frank waited expectantly.
“Well?”
You took a sip.
You hummed.
Frank narrowed his eyes.
“Hmm?”
You nodded thoughtfully.
“Hmm.”
“You’re the worst.”
You laughed.
Frank dropped down beside you.
“So?”
“So what?”
“The answer.”
You took another sip.
“Still thinking.”
“You said refill your cup.”
“I did.”
“I refilled your cup.”
“And now I’m considering the offer.”
Frank groaned loudly.
“This is a scam.”
“It’s not a scam.”
“It’s absolutely a scam.”
You grinned into your glass.
Frank watched you for a second before shaking his head.
“You know, most people would be flattered.”
“I am flattered.” You said sarcastically.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
You pointed at him.
“I already told you you’re attractive.”
“Objectively?”
“Objectively.”
Frank sighed.
“I don’t think that’s helping my case.”
“It shouldn’t.”
A laugh escaped him before he leaned back against the couch.
“Okay. New question.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“It’s going to annoy me.”
“It absolutely is.”
You groaned.
Frank looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Who are you calling if you get stuck at the airport?”
“You.”
“Who are you calling if your car breaks down?”
“You.”
“Who helped you move that couch last year?”
“You.”
“Who sat in the hospital waiting room while your appendix was trying to kill you?”
You frowned.
“You were there?”
Frank nodded.
“That’s emotional manipulation. I didn’t even know you came to the hospital.”
“It’s evidence.”
“It’s emotional evidence.”
Frank laughed.
Then, for a brief moment, his expression softened.
“You know I’d show up, right?”
The teasing disappeared from his voice.
“I know.” You answered earnestly.
“Every time.”
“I know, Frank.”
Something warm settled between you.
The kind that came from years of friendship.
Frank smiled.
Then immediately ruined the moment.
“So that’s still not a no.”
You groaned so loudly the neighbors probably heard it.
“Get out of my house.”
His laughter echoed through the apartment.
its.y/n my dear FRIEND frank and snoopy
franklangdon friend 🙂
its.y/n my best friend 😸
cassmckay idk how to feel about frank being over more recently than me
its.y/n show up whenever ill let you in
trinsantos fumigate your apt rn he probably has fleas
its.y/n snoopy is a very clean kitty
trinsantos i meant frank 😊
j.abbot who is that?
its.y/n frank or the cat?
j.abbot unfortunately i know langdon was asking about the little guy
its.y/n snoopy not to be confused with the dog. you need to come meet him :)
mateodiaz someone is feeling bold 😼
tag list: @cottagecorecass @thefemininemystiquee
Five: Appendicitis
This one is long asf sorry y'all!
You’re not entirely sure what happened.
One minute you were dancing with Trinity, laughing at something Dennis had said.
The next, you were on the floor.
Pain tore through your abdomen so suddenly that it stole the air from your lungs.
A strangled gasp escaped you as you doubled over.
Around you, the music continued to blast.
People kept dancing.
For a few seconds, nobody realized something was wrong.
Then Trinity’s face appeared in front of you.
“Oh my God.”
It seemed unfair how often your nights off ended badly.
They were rare enough as it was.
Truthfully, you’d spent most of the evening feeling guilty for taking it off.
The ED was busy.
It was always busy.
And even though Jack had practically ordered you to take the night off, part of you had still felt like you should be there.
Maybe this was some sick form of karma.
Go out with your friends.
Get appendicitis.
The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
The pain worsened.
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.”
Frank was suddenly beside you.
You hadn’t even seen him move.
One second he’d been across the room with Mel.
The next he was kneeling beside you, one hand steadying your shoulder.
His expression was tight with concern.
“What’s going on?”
You tried to answer.
The pain made it difficult.
Sweat beaded across your forehead.
“I think…” you gasped.
Another wave hit.
“I think it’s my appendix.”
Frank swore under his breath.
The color drained from his face.
“Whitaker” he barked, immediately shifting into doctor mode. “Call an ambulance.”
Dennis was already pulling out his phone.
Trinity stayed kneeling beside you, gripping your hand.
“It’s okay.”
You laughed weakly.
“No, it’s not.”
Frank ignored both of you.
“How long has it been hurting?”
“A few hours.”
His head snapped up.
“A few hours?”
You winced.
“I thought it was cramps.”
“Of course you did.”
Even now, he sounded annoyed.
Not at you.
At the situation.
At the fact that you apparently had the self-preservation instincts that contradicted being a doctor.
Another wave of pain hit.
You curled inward.
Immediately Frank’s hand was on your shoulder again.
“Hey.”
You looked up.
His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked painful.
“Stay with me.”
The words would’ve been ridiculous under any other circumstances.
You were awake.
Alert.
Very obviously conscious.
But the look in his eyes made your chest tighten.
Because he looked scared.
Genuinely scared.
“Frank” you managed.
“What?”
“You know if this kills me, Jack’s gonna be insufferable.”
For a second nobody said anything.
Then Dennis laughed.
Mel laughed.
Even Frank let out an incredulous breath.
“You are unbelievable.”
You smiled weakly.
“Tell him I died doing what I loved.”
“What?”
“Avoiding the emergency department.”
Frank shook his head.
Despite everything, a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“You are absolutely not dying.”
The distant sound of sirens echoed outside.
For the first time since the pain had started, Frank’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
Help was almost here.
Not that he moved away.
Not that he stopped watching you.
If anything, he shifted a little closer.
As if letting you out of his sight now was completely out of the question.
“Looks like you’re going into work after all tonight.”
The ride to the hospital had been strange.
In between waves of pain, you’d spent most of it cracking jokes with the EMTs about how backwards the entire situation was.
“I’m supposed to be on the other side of this.”
One of the EMTs laughed.
“Yeah, but you’re handling being a patient pretty poorly.”
“I’m handling it perfectly.”
“You tried to diagnose yourself three times.”
“Because I’m right.”
A delirious smile stayed plastered across your face the entire ride.
It wasn’t until the ambulance doors swung open that the humor finally disappeared.
Jack was waiting for you.
And he looked terrified.
Not annoyed.
Not exasperated.
Terrified.
The sight hit harder than the pain.
Suddenly this didn’t feel like a funny story anymore.
Maybe because if Jack was scared, there was probably a reason.
Trinity and Mel followed close behind the stretcher, having flat-out refused to leave you alone.
The boys had been left at the bar after approximately three seconds of debate.
Apparently your friends had collectively decided you required supervision.
Honestly, they weren’t wrong.
“What the hell happened?” Jack demanded.
The EMT started giving report, but Jack barely seemed to hear it.
His eyes never left you.
You tried a smile.
“I thought it was cramps.”
Jack looked entirely unimpressed.
“Turns out it’s probably my appendix.”
His jaw tightened.
The stretcher rolled through the department and into a room.
The second it stopped, Jack was already examining you.
“You brought this pain up a week ago.”
You groaned.
“Jack.”
“No.”
“Jack.”
“A week ago.”
You closed your eyes.
Unfortunately, he was right.
A week earlier you’d mentioned intermittent abdominal pain while scarfing down cafeteria food between patients.
Jack had immediately told you to get it checked out.
You had immediately ignored him.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Jack gave you a look.
“It could’ve been serious.”
You opened one eye.
“It still could be serious.”
He scoffed.
“And now here we are.”
Despite the pain, you laughed.
That was a mistake.
The movement sent a sharp stab through your abdomen.
You hissed and curled inward.
Jack’s expression changed instantly.
The irritation disappeared.
Concern took its place.
“Easy.”
His hand found your shoulder automatically.
The gesture was brief.
Professional.
But somehow it grounded you.
You looked up at him.
“You know, for someone who’s worried about me, you’re being kind of mean.”
“I’m furious with you.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is right now.”
Trinity snorted from the corner.
“He’s got a point.”
“Traitor.”
“You ignored abdominal pain for a week.”
Mel nodded.
“Honestly, we’re all a little mad.”
You stared at your friends.
“Wow.”
“No sympathy” Trinity informed you.
“I have appendicitis.”
“You have terrible medical judgment for a doctor.” Mel added.
“That’s hurtful.”
Jack was already ordering labs and imaging before the conversation had even finished.
You watched him move around the room.
Efficient.
Focused.
A little too focused.
The kind of focused he’d only ever been with patients who genuinely worried him.
For a moment, guilt settled heavily in your chest.
“Jack.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
That finally got his attention.
He looked over.
“For what?”
“For making you worry.”
The room went quiet.
Jack stared at you for a second.
Then he sighed.
A long, exhausted sigh.
“Just let us take care of you for once.”
The words were quiet.
Barely above a whisper.
But somehow they hit harder than any lecture could have.
Because underneath all the frustration, that was the real problem.
Jack wasn’t angry that you’d ignored him.
He was angry because something had happened to you.
And for the first time since arriving at the hospital, that realization scared you more than the pain did.
Eventually, you managed to convince Trinity and Mel to leave.
After fifteen minutes of arguing.
“You guys should go home” you insisted.
“We’re not leaving you.”
“Then go back to the bar.”
Trinity stared at you.
“You have appendicitis.”
“And?”
“And we’re not going back to the bar after watching you get loaded into an ambulance.”
You pointed at her.
“That’s exactly why you should go back. I already ruined your night.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Mel said.
“Guys.”
“No.”
You groaned.
“There’s literally no reason for you to sit around while I go into surgery.”
The two exchanged a look.
Then, reluctantly, they agreed.
Only after extracting multiple promises that you would text them the second you woke up.
That left you alone with Jack.
Well, mostly alone.
Nurses drifted in and out of the room every few minutes, checking vitals, hanging medications, or asking questions.
The rest of the time it was just the two of you.
You watched Jack sit in the chair beside your bed, reviewing something on the computer.
“I don’t know why you won’t let Walsh in here.”
Jack didn’t look up.
“Because she has patients.”
“She’s literally the surgeon.”
“Exactly.”
You rolled your eyes.
“She should probably check on me before she cuts me open.”
Jack finally glanced over.
“What, you don’t think I’m good enough?”
“No.”
His eyebrows shot up.
You pointed at him.
“I think you’re still mad at me.”
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m not.”
You laughed.
“Jack.”
“You slammed three cabinet doors in the last five minutes.”
He waited a moment.
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I was closing them.”
“Violently.”
He shook his head and looked away.
You felt a small smile tug at your lips.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
The room settled into a comfortable silence.
Then you sighed.
“Listen.”
Jack looked back at you.
“I’m not gonna fight with you before surgery.”
His expression softened slightly.
“I’m too superstitious.”
You picked at the hospital blanket.
“And I wouldn’t want our last conversation ever to be an argument.”
The joke landed exactly as intended.
Jack immediately shot you a look.
“Not funny.”
“Little funny.”
“Not funny.”
Your smile faded.
“I am sorry, though.”
The words came out quieter than you’d intended.
“I should’ve listened.”
Jack didn’t say anything.
You swallowed.
“I knew something wasn’t right.”
Still nothing.
“I just…”
You looked down at your hands.
“I thought it’d go away.”
For a long moment the only sound was the steady beep of the monitor beside you.
Then Jack stood.
Before you could ask what he was doing, he stepped closer to the bed.
And in a move so shocking, so wildly unprofessional, that your brain nearly short-circuited—
He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Brief.
Gentle.
Gone almost as quickly as it happened.
You stared at him.
Jack seemed equally surprised by his own actions.
But he didn’t take it back.
“Nothings going to happen during surgery,” he said quietly.
His voice was steady.
Certain.
“You and I both know how capable Walsh is.”
You continued staring at him.
The pain medication had left your thoughts floating somewhere several feet behind the rest of you.
Maybe that was why your heart suddenly felt like it was beating too fast.
Or maybe it was the kiss.
You honestly couldn’t tell.
Jack cleared his throat.
“You’ll be fine.”
You blinked.
“Did you just kiss me?”
His eyes widened slightly.
“What?”
“You kissed me.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
Jack looked offended.
“I was reassuring you.”
“You kissed my forehead.”
“That’s not a kiss.”
You stared at him.
He stared back.
Neither of you looked remotely convinced by his argument.
Mateo walked into the room and immediately stopped.
His eyes bounced between the two of you.
Then to Jack.
Then back to you.
The silence stretched.
Finally he turned around.
“Nope.”
And walked right back out.
For the first time all night, the tension in the room cracked.
And despite the pain, despite the fear, despite the fact that you were about to be wheeled into surgery
You found yourself smiling.
Because Jack was still sitting beside your bed.
And he clearly wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
its.y/n posted from the ambulance :)
franklangdon half dead and still posting
its.y/n gotta keep my fans updated
m.robinavitch glad you didn't die I guess
its.y/n I know you called jack to check on me you big softy
trinsantos me and mel went back to the bar and had a drink in you honor
teeny tiny taglist: @thefemininemystiquee
Four: Avoidant
its.y/n proof of life 🙃
j.abbot i thought you were trying to quit smoking
its.y/n i seriously have no clue how that got in my hand #scary 🫣
franklangdon can post but can’t reply to a single text.
trinsantos bro who tf invited you
d.whitaker that cig just took 20 mins off your life. please keep smoking regularly!!
its.y/n i love it when you talk sweet to me😊
m.robinavitch ugly ass sweater
its.y/n ho ive blocked you ten times next step is im calling mark to permaban you!!
m.robinavitch mark??
its.y/n zuckerberg bitch. you will be dealt with <3
Frank had been trying to catch you all week.
Normally that wouldn’t have been difficult. The two of you spent enough time in the ED that running into each other was practically guaranteed.
But somehow, every time Frank appeared, you suddenly had somewhere else to be.
A patient to check on.
Charting to finish.
Literally anything.
It was odd.
Very odd.
Especially because you and Frank had always gotten along.
Your friendship was easy. Effortless. Less work-focused than most of your other relationships at the hospital. You grabbed drinks together, texted outside of work, and occasionally convinced him to pay for your coffee.
You were genuine friends.
Which was exactly why this whole thing was a problem.
“Are you avoiding me?”
You looked up from your computer to find Frank leaning against the nurses’ station.
You scoffed.
“What? No.”
His eyebrow immediately rose.
“No?”
“No. Why would I be avoiding you?”
The problem was that you were absolutely avoiding him.
Ever since the Instagram incident.
And a text that was supposedly harmless.
A text that should have made you roll your eyes and move on.
Instead, it had lodged itself directly into your brain.
Frank was attractive.
Painfully attractive.
That wasn’t exactly groundbreaking information.
Half the hospital had functioning eyes.
But he’d always just been Frank.
Your friend.
The guy who let you steal fries off his plate.
The guy who listened to your complaints after terrible shifts.
The guy who occasionally paid for things when you flashed him a convincing smile.
Nothing more.
At least that’s what you’d told yourself.
Now every time you looked at him, you remembered that text.
And every time you remembered that text, your brain became significantly less useful.
Frank folded his arms.
“You’ve walked away from me three times this week.”
“That’s a coincidence.”
“It happened twice today.”
You pointed toward a patient room.
“I had things to do.”
“You sprinted away.”
“I walk fast.”
Frank stared at you.
“You practically jogged.”
You couldn’t even argue with that.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh my God.”
Your stomach dropped.
“What?”
“You are avoiding me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m really not.”
Frank laughed.
The sound only made the situation worse.
“You know” he said, stepping a little closer “most people are usually happy to see me.”
“Your ego is unbelievable.”
“It’s one of my best qualities.”
“Debatable.”
Frank’s grin widened.
And that was another problem.
You’d never noticed how nice his smile was before.
Or maybe you had.
Maybe you’d just been doing a better job ignoring it.
“Did I do something?” he asked, his tone softer now.
"Is this about my text?"
The teasing was gone.
And somehow that was even worse.
Because the truth was no.
Frank hadn’t done anything wrong.
He’d simply sent one text message.
One stupid text message that had forced you to acknowledge something you’d spent years conveniently overlooking.
You liked Frank. Or at the very least you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.
And judging by the look on his face, he was starting to realize it before you were ready to admit it yourself.
“You’re overthinking again” Frank said.
You blinked.
“What?”
“I can literally see it happening.”
A laugh escaped you despite yourself.
“Shut up.”
You rolled your eyes.
But for the first time all week, you didn’t find an excuse to leave.
Frank noticed that too.
The smile he gave you was small.
Victorious.
Three: Scared
You sat anxiously in the break room, mentally running through every possible reason Jack could have asked to talk.
On one hand, you were having this conversation over your break a break he said he would grab sandwiches for.
On the other hand, that could easily be a trap.
A sandwich was exactly the kind of thing someone would use to lull you into a false sense of security before dropping devastating news.
Your anxiety only grew when Jack finally walked into the room.
He looked distracted. Thoughtful.
Like he’d been rehearsing something in his head.
“Everything okay?” you asked, immediately regretting the question.
Jack offered a small smile.
“Yes and no.”
That was somehow worse.
You accepted the sandwich he handed you before taking a seat across from him.
The silence stretched for a moment.
“Jack.”
“Hm?”
“You’re scaring me.”
That earned a laugh.
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then stop looking like you’re about to tell me I killed someone.”
“I think you’d remember if you killed someone.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jack shook his head, still smiling.
Then his expression softened.
“I’m worried about you.”
You blinked.
“What?”
He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Ever since you were assigned to nights, you’ve been on your A-game.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he kept going.
“I’m serious. Nearly two years and I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve genuinely dropped the ball.”
You looked down at your sandwich, suddenly unsure what to do with the compliment.
Jack wasn’t exactly known for handing those out.
“I’ve watched you handle impossible patient loads, stay late without complaining, cover shifts when people needed help…”
He paused.
“And somehow still show up the next night ready to do it all again.”
The concern in his voice caught you off guard.
“I realized something last week when Mateo was here.”
You looked up.
“You were happy.”
The statement made you laugh.
“I hope so.”
“No, I mean really happy.”
Jack rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“You spend almost all your time with us.”
“The night crawlers are my friends too.”
“I know.”
“But most of your real friends are on days.”
You couldn’t argue with that.
You barely saw anyone anymore unless someone organized a group dinner.
Jack sighed.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I don’t want you feeling stuck here because you’re loyal to us.”
You stared at him.
“If you wanted to move to days, I wouldn’t blame you.”
The words clearly cost him something.
“They’d be lucky to have you.”
For a moment, you just sat there.
You had never seriously considered leaving nights.
Sure, you missed your friends sometimes.
You missed being on the same schedule as half the people you cared about.
But this shift had become home.
These people had become family.
You looked across the table at Jack.
At the man who had taught you more medicine than any textbook ever could.
The man who somehow always knew when you needed help before you asked for it.
The man who had spent an entire lunch break worrying about whether you were happy.
“Jack.”
He looked up.
“I love my spot here.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Sure, I miss my friends sometimes. It’d be nice to see them more.”
You smiled.
“But I wouldn’t give up working nights with you and everyone else for anything.”
For the first time since sitting down, Jack looked relieved.
Genuinely relieved.
“Good.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Good?”
“Good.”
A grin spread across your face.
“So this wasn’t actually about my happiness.”
“It was.”
“You were just making sure I wasn’t leaving.”
Jack took a bite of his sandwich.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Jack.”
“You’d be difficult to replace.”
You laughed.
“There it is.”
He pointed at you.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.”
Jack groaned.
“I should’ve let you think you were in trouble.”
“You absolutely should not have.”
Despite yourself, warmth settled in your chest.
Because underneath all the teasing and sarcasm, there was only one reason Jack had pulled you aside for this conversation.
He cared.
And somehow that was both comforting and a little terrifying.
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Two: Mateo!
“Mateo!”
Your face immediately lit up as he walked into the ED.
It was rare for any of the “Sexy Six” to see each other for more than a few minutes during shift change. Most of your interactions happened over text messages, shared schedules, and promises to hang out that never quite happened.
So when you’d heard Mateo was picking up nights for a few weeks, you’d been genuinely excited.
Excited enough that you’d spent most of the last hour talking about it.
“And I’m telling you” you said, following Jack back to the nurses’ station, “he’s going to fit right in.”
Jack hummed without looking up from his charting.
“You’ve only mentioned that twelve times.”
“It was eight.” You argued.
“It was definitely more than eight.”
You ignored him.
“He’s like us.”
Jack finally looked up.
“That’s a terrifying thought.”
“No, seriously. He just gets it. He knows what I need done before I even ask.”
“Wow.”
You missed the look Jack gave you.
“He does.”
“Sounds magical.”
“It is.”
Jack rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer.
“If all three of us work together” you continued, “I honestly think we’ll be unstoppable.”
“Unstoppable?”
“Like a well-oiled machine.”
“A disaster.” Jack sighed.
“Nirvana or whatever.”
Jack stared at you.
“That’s not what nirvana means.”
“Nobody actually knows what it means.”
“That’s definitely not true.”
You waved him off.
“The point is we’d be incredible.”
“You’ve got this guy on a pretty high pedestal.”
“Because he’s good.” You said like it should be common knowledge.
“Sure.”
Before you could argue, Mateo finally reached the desk.
“What’s going on?”
You immediately abandoned Jack’s side and stepped toward Mateo.
Jack watched the interaction with a frown he didn’t quite understand.
“Tell him he’s wrong.”
Mateo blinked.
“About?” He asked.
“Everything.”
“That’s not very specific.”
“See?” you said, turning back toward Jack. “He’s already on my side.”
Mateo laughed.
“I literally don’t know what’s happening.”
“Neither do I,” Jack muttered.
You completely ignored him.
“It’s nice to finally work together.”
“Yeah” Mateo said. “It’s been forever.”
Jack clicked a little harder on his keyboard than necessary.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
You looked over confused.
“What?”
“You two done catching up?”
Mateo raised an eyebrow.
“We’ve been talking for like thirty seconds.”
“Felt longer.” He shrugged.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Are you jealous?”
Jack nearly choked.
“Of Mateo?” He deadpanned.
“Interesting that you answered so fast.”
You narrowed your eyes again.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Right.”
“I’m not.”
Mateo looked between the two of you.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“Oh my God.” He laughed.
“What?” Jack asked.
Mateo pointed between the two of you.
“You’ve been talking about me all night, haven’t you?”
“Mostly me” you said.
“Unfortunately” Jack added.
Mateo laughed.
“You know, I was excited to work nights.”
“See?” you said.
“But now I’m a little concerned.”
“Also fair.” You nodded.
Jack shook his head and stood from his chair.
“I’m going to go see a patient.”
“Running away?” you called after him.
“No.”
“Because it kind of seems like you’re running away.”
Jack pointed a finger at you without turning around.
“Not another word.”
The second he disappeared around the corner, Mateo looked at you.
“He’s jealous.”
You snorted.
“He is not.”
“He absolutely is.” Mateo argued.
“Of you?”
“Apparently.”
You glanced toward the hallway where Jack had disappeared.
A smile tugged at your lips.
Mateo noticed immediately.
“Oh, that’s bad.”
“What?”
“You don’t even realize you’re doing it.”
“Doing what?”
Mateo just shook his head.
“Never mind.”
"Doing what?" You exclaimed.
A few minutes later, you asked Mateo to help you move a patient.
Before Mateo could answer, a familiar voice spoke up behind you.
“I got it.”
Both of you turned.
Jack was already pulling on a pair of gloves.
You exchanged a look with Mateo.
Mateo grinned.
Jack glared.
And somehow, the night had only just started.
One: Sexy Men
Its.y/n just posted
its.y/n which one of you sexy men i work with want to volunteer 😼
trinsantos on the main is crazy
d.whitaker y/n was this for the spam…
melissaking y/n i don’t think you meant to post this. unless you did then great job on finally working up the courage to drop a hint!even though i find this to be a very big step.
mateodiaz is she not actively on the clock rn??
- trinsantos you act like that would stop her
victoria.j y/n….
franklangdon 💀
- trinsantos alright who showed grandpa the skull emoji
- franklangdon grandpa?
- trinsantos you’re old
You dropped your phone onto the nurses station a little harder than necessary, heat rushing to your cheeks.
Unfortunately, your dramatic reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Jack glanced up from the computer.
“Everything alright?”
You immediately straightened, smoothing a hand over your scrub top.
“Yep.”
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.”
You grabbed a chart from the desk, pretending to read it.
Jack leaned back in his chair.
“Is it a guy?”
You nearly choked.
“What?”
“That bad, huh?”
“There is no guy.”
"Sure.”
You shot him a glare.
“There is no guy.”
Jack held his hands up.
“Alright. No guy.”
The smile on his face told you he didn’t believe a word of it.
You looked away, hoping your face wasn’t somehow getting redder.
Jack laughed.
“Oh, there definitely is a guy.”
“Jack.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Stop saying.”
A grin spread across his face.
“Can’t have my best girl quitting on me now. It’s still early in the night.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Your best girl?”
“Absolutely.”
“You tell all your coworkers that?”
“Nope.”
Jack laughed and spun back toward his computer.
Before you could respond, another text notification lit up your phone.
Jack’s head snapped around immediately.
You snatched the phone off the desk.
“No.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was absolutely going to.”
“You’re the worst.”
Jack pointed toward the trauma rooms.
“Go do your job.”
“You do your job.”
“I’m supervising.”
“You’re sitting.”
“Exactly. Supervising.”
Despite yourself, a laugh escaped.
The tension that had been sitting in your chest all evening eased slightly.
Jack noticed.
“There she is.”
You frowned.
“What?”
“You’ve been stressy all night.”
“Stressy isn’t a word.”
“It is now.”
“It’s not.”
Jack shrugged.
“Whatever’s got you throwing your phone around, it’ll still be there in twelve hours.”
You glanced down at the screen.
A tiny smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts.
Jack caught it instantly.
You groaned.
“Leave me alone.”
“Definitely a guy.”
“Jack.”
“Definitely.”
