"A World Without Trans People Has Never Existed And Never Will"

"A world without trans people has never existed and never will"

Poster spotted in Olympia, WA

Any Excuse | one shot

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!Hospitalist!reader

Requested

Summary: A snapshot of your interactions with the ruggedly handsome ER doctor, and several of the excuses he uses to see you.

[ Masterlist ]

Anon Request: I have a request! Jack Abbot x reader where the reader is a new night-shift hospitalist (the doctor that is responsible for taking care of patients admitted to the hospital from the ER) at PTMC. She and Jack hit it off after meeting and he keeps trying to come up with any excuse at all to admit patients just to have to contact her. And maybe he goes and visits his admitted patients “just to check up on them” even though he never has before and probably barely remembers their names just to see her. And the night shift ER crew just smirk at each other whenever she goes to their department to see a patient and interacts with Abbot.

Note: so I read a bunch of articles about hospitalists and I still feel like I might have misunderstood, so this took a bit longer than intended lol but here it is! I hope you enjoy💜

Word Count: 1.4k

All of my works are 18+ due to general adult content.

Warnings: hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, foul language, pining, slowburn? (can I say that in a one shot? lol), so much sass & flirting

not beta read

Jack thought that the first time he saw you, he had to be dreaming. A cliched savior in a white lab coat, moving through the Pitt with a purpose and a smile. He had heard about the new hospitalist floating around, having started several weeks prior, but he had never seen you down in the Pitt before.

You had come down for an admitted patient, and when you stopped in front of him to go over the case, it took him a second to speak.

“Finally come to see how the other half lives?”

“More like finally hitting rock bottom.” You supplied effortlessly with a smirk.

One side of Jack’s lips tilted upwards, “Patient’s been waiting nearly two hours on a bed upstairs.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You said, eyes flickering across the busy ED, “You’re lucky he wasn’t waiting for surgery. You’d wait all night.”

Jack handed over the tablet showing the patient’s chart. You skimmed through it quickly, humming as you did.

“Great, I’ll go get him to radiology. Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” You said, smiling at him.

He watched you go with an uncapped fascination. With the tiniest hint of a smile, Jack got back to work.

—

The next time he saw you, you were in one of the ED rooms, talking to a mother and daughter. You were going over some results, before explaining that you would be bringing the mother upstairs shortly for inpatient care. Your demeanor was kind, but refined, shoulders set with an easy smile.

“Good evening, Dr. Abbot.” You said as you approached him.

He greeted you after a beat, subtly taking in your figure. “Would be better without all these boarders.”

You glanced at the board, “Truly, if this is how the other half lives, I’m good where I’m at.”

A wry grin formed, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

You chuckled, “I think the dose I got on my med school rotation is good enough for a lifetime. I’m content just drifting through, on occasion.”

Me too, Jack thought before shaking it off, steeling his expression.

“You get used to it.” Jack said, tone light, “At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

Jack ignored the way Ellis looked over at him.

“Duly noted.” You said with a smile. “Can we go over my patient quickly? I’d like to get her upstairs.”

Jack nodded, moving closer to you to rattle off several things about your patient.

It was around that time Jack started taking sugar in his coffee. Just one packet, but it did not go unnoticed.

—

“Ah, Dr. Abbot, just the man I was looking for.” You said, walking over to the charge desk where he stood.

He looked from the board to you, eyebrow raised, “Don’t hear that often.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow in return, “Why’s that, do you think? Certainly would have nothing to do with your bedside manner, or that rugged charm? Perhaps the dry humor? No, certainly not.”

Shen barked a laugh beside him, before quickly covering it with an awkward cough.

Jack blinked, momentarily speechless. “I think it has something to do with…what did Dana’s daughter call it? My resting bitch face?”

You laughed, and the sound carried, making Jack’s heart squeeze.

“Maybe that’s it. I’d just call it ‘stoic and mysterious’. It works, for you.” You said, clearing your throat and glancing away from him as your cheeks heated. “Anyways, I was just coming to ask why you were admitting the patient in Central-5? EKG was clean, troponin test confirmed no heart attack, and you can monitor overnight down here.”

“Need the bed.” He supplied. “8/10 chest pain that comes and goes, shortness of breath, several risk factors like high cholesterol and triglycerides. CCU should take him.”

You hummed, looking over the chart again. “Alright, yeah, I’ll take him. I’ll follow up with his PCP in the morning to get more of a history. Thank you, Dr. Abbot.”

Jack nodded.

“Can you let Ms. Kelly know I’ll be back down shortly to bring her to gastro?”

He nodded again, “Course.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Thank you!”

—

Hours later, Jack had moved up to CCU to check on a patient. Something he never did. It was less so to check up on the patient, and more so to see you. He didn’t even remember the patient’s name, only their list of symptoms, their test results.

You had begun to occupy most of his thoughts, and he found himself looking for any excuse to talk with you. The bad breakroom coffee felt hot in his hands, two cups holding more weight than just liquid. He had no idea how you took your coffee — if you drank coffee — but he guessed you preferred it slightly sweet. He really hoped he was right.

Sat in a reserved corner of the seventh floor, you were charting — hands moving quickly over the keys, eyes focused.

“Hey,” Jack said softly, as to not startle you.

You turned your head, taking him in before you smiled.

“Wanted to check up on Mr…uh, and figured you might need this.” He offered you one of the cups.

You blinked, “Mr. Olsen? You wanted to check up on a patient?” You accepted the coffee, “Thank you, this was really nice of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Was hoping I was being overly cautious and he didn’t actually have a heart attack.”

“It’s good you wanted to admit him, actually. I think he has GERD.” You said, taking a careful sip of the hot liquid, and a smile lit up your features when you swallowed, eyes flickering from the liquid and back to Jack.

Jack took a sip of his black coffee, nodding. “That makes sense, actually. Heartburn could’ve been what he was feeling.”

“I asked him about his diet, high-fat mostly. He had a spicy burrito for dinner, so yeah. GERD. Waiting for a consult, but he’s doing fine. I’ll have him follow up with a nutritionist and his PCP.”

“Good, that’s good.” He shifted his weight. “Looks like you’ll have all the glory, then.”

You laughed, “Hardly. You wanted to admit him…but we can share. 70/30?”

Jack smirked, “Closer to 60/40. I did order all those tests.”

You scoffed playfully, “I will go no lower than 65/45.”

“Deal.”

—

You came down into the Pitt with coffees in hand, eyes searching for a particular doctor — the one with hard, caring hazel eyes, salt and pepper curls, and a smile that made your heart race.

“He’s in Trauma-1,” said Ellis, hiding her smirk well. “I can let him know you stopped by?”

Your cheeks heated, “I can wait, I have two patients to check up on down here. They should have beds within the hour.”

Ellis nodded, “Look at you getting stuff done.”

“Heavy is the head…”

She chuckled.

Jack said your name in surprise, closing in on you. He took in the coffees and your smile.

You handed him one without ceremony, “Returning the favor.”

He accepted it graciously, ignoring how Shen and Ellis were smirking at him, taking a sip.

“Damn, they hide the good shit upstairs, huh?”

You cracked a grin, “It’s as if they play favorites.”

Jack put a hand over his heart and mocked offense, “You wound me. Are you saying I’m not your favorite?”

“I brought you the good shit, didn’t I?” You smirked, not missing a beat.

—

Jack called your work cell, glancing up at the board with one hand in his pocket. His shift was nearly over, but he had decided to call you after he had failed to see you for most of his shift.

“Thinking about admitting a patient to the cardiology,” he supplied lamely. “I know you can work magic with admissions.”

“You’re calling to ask for advice or for a favor?” You asked, “Or just so the Pitt can be graced with my wondrous presence right before shift change?”

“Can’t one doctor just call another?” A pause, “But can’t it be a bit of all of that?”

Your laugh was light and airy, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

True to your word, you arrived in under ten minutes.

“You could just page me next time.”

He shrugged, “Ruins the mystique.”

A sharp laugh escaped your throat that you covered with your hand. “I feel like it would add mystique, even though I hardly think you leave any for the rest of us.”

“You think I’ve got mystique?”

“Totally. I dig the whole ‘gritty ER doc bathed in mystery’ thing you’ve got going on.”

“Yeah?” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “So I shouldn’t ask you to dinner then?”

“No, no,” Your cheeks flamed. “I think you totally should. But only if you don’t think it’ll ruin your rough-edge reputation.”

“We should test it. You know, for science.”

You agreed easily, “For scientific purposes only.”

He matched your smirk.

[ more stuff with Jack Abbot ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69 @moonlightmvrvel @andabuttonnose @boldlyherdream

All: @nixandtonic

I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you did too!

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espressheauxs

4 months ago

Happy black history month and fuck trump

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espressheauxs

1 month ago

stay

jack abbot x female reader

summary: jack comes home from a long shift to find you fast asleep in his bed

content: fluff!!!, established relationship, reader and jack are learning how to align their differing schedules, jack cooking dinner and being a domestic little boyfriend, mentions of the trauma he experiences at work, alludes to sex but nothing explicit, basically just the reader being jack’s safe space, cute n cozy!

word count: 2k

author’s note: oh look it’s stella the oneshot wonder coming through with another jack abbot oneshot and refusing to challenge herself by writing a complex multi part fic like she said she was gonna do. whatever just let me domesticate that man in peace…

Exhausted and drained of every ounce of his energy, Jack had just finished what felt like the longest shift of his career. Twelve hours of chaos that had him longing for the silence of his home and a long stretch of sleep to clear the casual scream of trauma that lingered in his mind.

While he usually offered every little corner of himself to his job, letting it consume his life in ways most people didn’t, today tested him.

It didn’t help that he held himself together for the sake of everyone around him. In true attending physician fashion, he pushed through each intervention with tactful hands and confident energy. His collected demeanor cracked with each combative family member and patient that slipped away underneath his hands, but he never let it show. Instead, he lead every room with calm assurance and a steadfast plan. And when all was said and done, when he was finally free from the confining walls of the Emergency Department, he just wanted to go home— to let go.

Functioning on muscle memory, his feet carried him to his front door, key coming into contact with the lock and stepping out of his shoes in the entryway. He walked past the living room, following his morning routine of getting ready for bed, and tossing his backpack on the barstool at the kitchen island.

Passing through his quiet kitchen, he noticed the dishes set out on the drying rack, all clean and waiting to be put away, remnants of the night before that reminded him you were there. The cluttered mess of his day almost causing him to forget the night before.

You came over to his place after work last night.

The narrow alignment of your weekday schedules always found you in the in-between moments. With Jack working night shifts and you having a typical nine to five schedule, the fleeting evening hours were now yours to share. Dinner in Jack's kitchen quickly became a routine delicacy in your calendars. Scraping together what little time you had, and sharing a meal before your days set sail on two opposite courses.

You were still in the early months of your relationship, hungry to spend every waking minute together.

You’d both forgotten what it felt like to be contingent on another person’s presence. The fullness of companionship. Small smiles at learning something new about the other, and the constant urge to take mental notes of every word leaving their lips, but not letting yourself veer from their train of thought for too long in fear that you might miss something. Everything felt vibrant and exciting. Your connection blooming in the gold hues of evening sun, and tender conversation at his dinner table.

A memory of your conversation from last night played in his mind; you reaching past him to grab a cutting board standing at the kitchen counter and helping with the meal's final touches. Busy stirring something on the stovetop with a dish towel resting over his shoulder, Jack listened as you told him about your day.

Continuing to monitor the pots and pans in front of him, he asked about your plans for the evening, curious to know how your day would end as his began. You worked to chop a handful of vegetables while telling him what was on your itinerary for the night: going home to finish laundry and turning in early.

His response to your lackluster agenda was immediate, soft and genuine as it left his lips without permission.

“You could just stay here.”

You’d stayed over at his place before. Multiple times. Always on the weekend when neither of you had work.

It gave you the opportunity to spend unrestricted time together without a single worry of differing schedules. Each time you’d stay up as late as your body would let you, not quite used to Jack’s nocturnal way of life. Your voice would dissipate into quiet hums as your eyelids grew heavy, until you eventually fell asleep with your body pressed against his. The dim lamp on his bedside table would stay on a little while longer as he read, his back resting against the headboard, but his body would sink deep into the comforter, his mind losing focus at the feeling of you alongside him. He'd let himself peer down at your sleeping figure, facial features relaxed and soft in the faint light of his bedroom. A true depiction of the endless beauty found in stillness. Finding solace in the comfort of your skin, warm and real and touching his, he would always fall asleep much faster than usual.

Given the ease of your previous sleepovers, it wasn’t odd for him to mention you staying over at his place, but it felt different this time.

The intention was distinctive— a deepening of dependence. It wouldn’t be the normal arrangement of talking, and laughing, and fucking well into the early morning hours until you fell asleep in his arms. This time you would be there, alone, in his space. It felt like an extension of trust. An extension of newfound domesticity in your relationship. A taste of reliance.

“Like just stay here while you’re at work?” A hint of a smile danced on your lips as your words came out in wishful anticipation.

He caught it. The excitement in your voice, and the careful raise of your eyebrows as you kept your grin from stretching across your face.

“If you want to.” Setting down the sauce-stained utensil in his hand, he took a single step toward you, body angled slightly behind yours as his arms wrapped instinctively around your waist, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t mind coming home to you in the morning.” His words sunk into the crook of your neck before his lips found your jaw in a careful kiss.

Under the spell of his touch you agreed to his invitation, finishing dinner, and receiving an all too-natural kiss goodbye from Jack before he lingered at the front door on his way out.

After an evening spent in his home, you fell asleep in his room, on his bed. And that's where you remained, still dreaming under the gentle weight of his comforter when he got home from work.

Careful not to wake you, his steps softened as he came to the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the frame to find your body snuggled in his sheets.

You were sprawled out on your belly with one leg bent and your hands underneath the pillow. His pillow. You must’ve ventured over to his side of the bed in your sleep, your back rising and falling with gentle breaths as your face smushed further into the cotton pillowcase.

Fragments of your body peeked out from underneath his bedspread, the heather grey t-shirt on your back immediately catching his eye. Only a sliver of the ambiguous material was visible on your shoulders, but Jack new the shirt adorning your sleeping figure belonged to him. The sight of you wearing his clothes, nestled deep in his sheets, made the rhythmic beating in his chest stutter.

He let himself watch for a minute, standing in silence with a subtle grin on his lips.

The trials of his day dispersed right there in the threshold of his bedroom. Every high stress situation and crucial decision fading in the background as you laid on his bed, captivated by a peaceful slumber.

He knew it wouldn’t last long, knew your schedule like the back of his hand, and it was only a matter of time before you would be waking up to start your day. Half an hour maybe.

His time with you, snuggled and serene in his bed, was limited. All he wanted to do was join you. To give himself over to the soothing consolation of your figure weighed down into his, and drown in the comfort of your soft breath.

He had to force his way to the bathroom. Stripping himself of the clothes littered with the impurities of his job. Turning the shower faucet, and fighting his desire to lay next to you with his clothes still stained from work.

He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do it.

There was nothing worth bringing you into his world. The grime of trauma and death had no place next to you. You were separate from all of that. Pure from the suffering he had to witness on a daily basis. Any anguish abiding in his thoughts, on his clothes, rooted in the ache of his body, all of it vanished the second he saw the soft curve of your lips after a long day.

Less than three minutes of scrubbing and rinsing his body under the shower head and he was out, working himself into a pair of shorts before silently stepping back into his bedroom. Relief flooding through his body at finding you still fast asleep on his side of the bed.

He almost doesn’t want to join you, to ruin the perfect scene set in front of him; your sleeping figure draped over his sheets, but then you stir. Your legs move slightly, and your head buries deeper into his pillow and he’s crawling onto the mattress in seconds. It dips under his weight, and one of your eyes squints open at the interruption. A sleepy smile melting onto your expression as contentment engulfs you both. He squishes next to you, eliciting a gentle hum from your chest as his body comes into contact with yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is sleepy- barely audible. Music to his ears.

“Hi.” Far less drowsy but still holding a tired rasp, his greeting fills the thin space between you, both heads sharing a pillow as your bodies face one another.

“You’re in my spot.” His whisper hides in a smile as his hand finds the curve of your waist underneath his t-shirt.

You try to mumble out an apology, shifting your body back to the other side of the bed, but his arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The muscles in his body constricting as he hugs you tight against him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The familiar teasing of his voice sends a wave of comfort rippling through your body. You let his arms envelop you. Melting into his touch, surrounded and satisfied by his company.

“Want you right here.” His words are muffled in your hair as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

You don’t fall back asleep, but Jack does. His eyes closing and breath evening the second he has you in his arms. The rigid facade he holds in place vanishing under a soft veil of sleep.

You lay with him for a few more minutes, drenched in his affection, until you're practically prying his hands from your waist and rolling out of his bed. You’re hesitant to leave, your body trying to lull you back into his sheets, the calm of his embrace calling to you as you slip quietly from his bedroom.

Already counting down the minutes until you’re back at his place for dinner, you pad into the kitchen, carefully putting away the dishes laying out on the drying rack before gathering your belongings and starting your day.

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espressheauxs

1 month ago

"Saddle up, cowboy. We got this."

680 notes View Post

espressheauxs

1 month ago

if there’s one thing about jack abbot, it’s that he’s going to mock you during sex… though never done out of cruelty or with any malicious intent. if fact, the two of you don’t even think of it as such—mocking.

his words are more of a… provocative ribbing that he knows will flood your mind with a haze. a haze you’re comfortable with floating in, that fills you full, right into a world-bending breaking point.

you’re both on your sides, facing and pressing against each other. substituting oxygen with your panting huffs, jack inhales your moans with sloppy, spit-slick kisses. he feels you shiver in his arms when he slips himself back inside, resettling your leg over his hip to push as far into your pussy as you’ll let him.

jack smirks to himself, his palm moving to splay against the cheek of your ass and yank you closer. he grunts through a sudden exhale at the new angle, commencing a roll of his waist that causes a gasp to burn your lungs.

“fuck, jack,” your mewl, voice weak and wobbly. “ah—ah, ‘s so deep…”

“is it? s’it nice and deep, baby?” he mumbles at your lips, copying your desperate nod and small yeahs with an expression of pity you can tell is fake. “wonder ‘f i can get any deeper...”

you aren’t given a chance to wonder the same before jack is gripping your ass with a stronger squeeze. his tender thrusts adjust into a sharp, sturdy pounding that jerks his balls back and forth against your pussy.

leaking around his thickness, you hand reaches behind to clench the sheet beneath you. it’s the only thing you can manage, the rest of your mind a sweet mush.

“t-too much.” you can barley talk, air escaping your body faster than you can replace it. “it’s too much, feels too good.”

jack doesn’t let up, cock throbbing and pumping hard into your heat. his bottom lip pokes out, just barely, matching your blissed out expression.

“oh, ‘too much, it’s too much’,” he recites, drawing out the words in a teasing tone you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else. “i don’t think so, baby. shit, you’re doing so good. takin’ my cock all nice and pretty.”

you crumble against jack but he holds you steady. lips smushed into his neck, you smear it messy with the spit drooling from slurred, open-mouthed mumbles.

“you’re so big,” you stammer, vision going blurry at the wet squelch that sounds whenever he rears out of you, and subsequent groan that jumps from jack when he slicks back inside your creaming hole.

“ooh, i‘m so big?” jack keeps his pace steady through the witty responses, and you can’t yourself from meeting his thrusts with your own grind. you don’t have to see him to feel the grin quirking the corners of his mouth. “hm? maybe i should pull out, give you a break—”

“no. no,” you whine over the rocking of the bed, clutching his as if he’s truly considering slipping his cock out and leaving you empty and cold. “no, don’t stop. gonna come again…”

the words flip a switch in jacks brain and he fucks you the hardest he has all night. foot planting into the bed, he sounds with deep coos at your uncontrollable cries he forces out of you.

it’s disgusting, the way you’ve coated his member in a velvety mixture of your juices. dripping down, it even collects against his sack, glossing him and making his eyes roll.

“gimme that cum, baby. just like last time, squirt it all out for me.”

you body goes numb yet feels like it’s imploding all at once. jack watches the way you shiver in his grasp, clenching around his swollen cock as you gush messily. he fucks you through it, the liquid spurting to wet his stomach and balls.

“that’s it,” he chokes out, inching dangerously close to his own finish. it only takes a few more pulses of your peak to finally clutch his own, plunging feverishly until he’s balls deep inside you. “f-fuck, yeah, right there.”

jack breaks. groaning into the side of your face and latching onto you while comes, the inescapable bliss makes his entire body twitch with harsh trembles.

“holy fuck, i’m still goin,” jack almost growls, air caught in his throat at the continuous ropes of cum he spills into you. the both of you are still heaving and coming as he leaks out of you. your lips puffy and swollen, and a sticky mess. it goes on for so long that jack ends up laughing through his moans, stomach sore from all the clenching.

it takes a few more minutes for your bodies to finally melt into tangled piles of limbs, the warm residue of your climax swimming nicely in your belly.

“you still with me, gorgeous?”

the only response you can muster is a sleepy mm-mm, and he gives you an equally-exhausted laugh. you only find the strength to peel open your eyes when a soft hand cradles your chin to tilt your head.

eyelids fluttering, you stare at him in a lost, fuzzy daze. thumb stroking your cheek, jack blinks sleepily at you before planting a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.

“i’m right here,” he promises, words certain but still far away when they reach your ears. “right here, baby. need you to come back for me, okay?”

a whine seeps from your lips. it’s not a defiance but you’re not obliging him either. you’re just… still in orbit, where you are the sun and jack’s the earth just before a dawn; as usual, he’ll push past the incoming fatigue, and wait for the otherworldly, ingrained tug that will eventually pull you back to him.

“right here…”