robby after you smack his ass: hopefully he’s not drinking anything, or else he’ll choke. he’s a little stunned but laughs it off after a few seconds with a red face and shake of his head. man, you’re trouble… but he loves it
abbot after you smack his ass: stops whatever he’s doing to compute what’s just happened. thinks for a total of ten seconds before turning to you with an expression you can’t read. a few minutes later, you’re bent over his knee. ass bare and sore even though he rubs it before and after each smack. you jolt every time he cracks his palm to one of your cheeks but he shrugs it off with an unbothered shrug and “what, baby? you’re the one that wanted to play...”
he’s the trouble now. and he loves it.
RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD??? 😭😭🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Smut (18+). Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Banter. My own special brand of prose, fragments, and italicization. A/N: First full length fic I've read in a hot minute. Just can't get the image of slow morning sex with Jack Abbot out of my mind.
Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes this morning. Tangled in his sheets, hair all in disarray against the satin pillowcase. The shirt you’ve stolen from him rides up over your hips, exposing lavender cotton panties with daisies splashed across them. Cute.
The sight turns him on instantly. More than it should. He can’t help it. Something about you at ease in his space. Completely twisted up in his home, in his bed. In his life.
Coming home to someone wouldn’t have been a possibility 5 years ago. Seeing you after a long shift, like an oasis after a long trek in a desert, is a luxury he’s still getting used to. And one must take advantage of, and savor, little luxuries whenever they can.
Perhaps he should feel a little bad for wanting to wake you up so early, when even Phoebus Apollo still hasn’t fully roused himself from sleep, and the Pittsburgh towers stand in black silhouettes against the indigo sky.
Perhaps he should feel guilty for peeling back the twisted sheets to get an eyeful of your prone body. Eyes trailing up your legs, snagging on the curves of your thighs, the supple bend of your ass.
Maybe he should feel apologetic for reaching out and grabbing a handful. Hand running under the hem of the stolen shirt and up your tummy to cup your breast. For rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching it gently.
But after the night he’s had, he can’t even muster a smidgen of regret. And the sound you make, and the way you arch your back into his touch strikes any trace of repentance from his mind. And when you slowly blink yourself awake and beam at him like he hung the stars in the sky by hand, he can’t help the way his heart skips violently in his chest and all the blood in his body pools straight to his cock.
“Mornin’, honey.” He gives you a breathtaking smile of his own, fingers still lazily playing with your nipple.
“You’re back.” You bite the words out around a yawn. You roll onto your back, nudging a foot into his lap.
“In the flesh.” He switches to your other breast, showing it the same attention.
“Sun’s not even in the sky, and you’re already feeling me up,” you tease, toes brushing over his hard cock.
“Sorry.” Jack shrugs with a sheepish grin. “Couldn’t help myself when you look like this.”
You raise your eyebrows. “When I look like a sleepy mess?”
Jack shakes his head. “When you look like you’re mine. Wearing my shirt, in my bed. A man can only be so strong for so long.”
“Something tells me that apology’s not genuine.” You try to be coy in your response, but there’s a small tremor in your voice from his words.
Mine. Oh don’t you love being Jack’s.
His hand glides down to the crux of your thigh. “Somethin tells me you don’t really mind.” Jack rubs at the growing damp between your legs. “Barely touched you, honey.”
You spread your legs lazily. “I missed you.”
“That right?” He tugs at the waistband.
You nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Really missed you.”
“Well, shame on me for leaving you all alone. Ought to apologize for my actions.” His thumb nudges your clit. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you missed me, darling, and I can show you how sorry I am.”
The words barely finish leaving his lips before you’re already moving towards him, much too turned on to bother with the facade of apathy.
You crawl into his lap, lips hungrily seeking his own. Jack slings an arm low around your waist, fingers already digging into the curve of your ass. He squeezes hard, molding your pliant body against his own.
Not that you give him much choice, almost knocking him back with the force of your kiss. Your fingers twine through his grey curls, tugging sharply just as your teeth rake over his bottom lip. Jack hisses, equal parts pleasure and pain. And it’s not long before he’s grabbing a handful of your own hair, angling your mouth so he can push his tongue between your lips. Easily dominating you with one gesture.
Your hips rock against his slowly, languidly. He slaps your ass sharply, urging your stilted rhythm. You’re greedy this morning. Rubbing your clit down on the rough fabric of his jeans. Taking your pleasure with hungry moans pressed against tongue and teeth.
“Poor baby,” Jack groans against your lips. “Was only gone for 12 hours.” He slides his hand between your legs once more.
Your hips buck, chasing the sweet pressure of his thumb on your clit. “Too long.” You tilt your head back, a whimper choked in your throat.
“I can see that.” He mouths at your pulse. “Can’t even do my job without you jumping on me as soon as I get home.” His middle and forefinger push your panties to the side to play with your cunt.
“You started it,” you pant, angling your hips so his fingers slip into you shallowly.
“Hm, did I?” He nips at your throat. “Not how I remember it.” With a crook of his wrist, Jack’s fingers fill you. A poor substitute for the real thing, but you can’t find it in your heart to care. “See, I’m just a tired old man, comin’ home from a grueling 12 hour shift. And you seduced me, wearing my shirt and that underwear I love. Sleeping in my bed. Then you climbed in my lap and started kissing me.”
You mumble something under your breath, half moan, half breathless whisper.
“What was that, honey?” He asks, fingers still playing with you, ratcheting up the intense storm inside of you.
“You’re bein’ mean.” You clench around his fingers.
Jack’s arm locks around your waist, stopping your frantic hips. “Oh?” He asks with raised eyebrows. “Am I?” Mischief dances in his green eyes.
You nod, against your better judgement.
“Oh, baby, you don’t know mean. If I was being mean, I wouldn’t let you come. But I’m a gentleman, honey.” His fingers fuck into you, a hard pace that leaves your body boneless. “So I’m gonna make you come with my fingers, and then you’re gonna ride my cock until you come again.”
Jack holds you in place, wanting you to save your energy for later. His deft fingers play the chords of your body. Curling and angling just right. Each thrust of his fingers devastating in its accuracy. Filling your body with the golden light of ecstasy. Your head swims with it. And when he adds his thumb back into the mix, nudging your clit with each pass of his fingers, you’re a goner.
Your legs try to close on his fingers, but he keeps them open as he works you through your orgasm.
“Just like that, baby,” Jack’s voice is a husky whisper in your ear. “So pretty when you come.” He slides his fingers from your cunt, groaning at the wetness that coats his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” His tongue laps at the digits.
You watch his movement, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Want a taste?” Jack asks. His cock throbs painfully when you nod and stick your tongue out. He pushes his fingers deep into your mouth, only stopping when you gag. “Now was that mean?” He pops the buttons on his jeans.
“No,” you admit reluctantly.
“Gonna ride my cock? Make yourself come again?” He lifts you slightly so he can free his aching dick from his pants. He rubs his spit-slicked hand over himself, taking the edge off slightly.
You nod, tongue curling over your lips, tasting the remnants of yourself.
“Say it.” Jack’s eyes burn into yours.
You wrap your hand around his, stroking him slowly in tandem. “I’m gonna ride your cock,” you whisper, eyes still locked on his. “And I’m gonna make myself come. Like a good girl,” you add, just to watch his lust filled pupils blow wider.
“My good girl,” he corrects, nudging his nose against your own.
“Your good girl,” you amend, knocking his hand away to line his cock up.
Jack busies himself by removing your shirt. His hands find your tits immediately, his lips follow soon after. Tongue laving at the sweat beading on your chest. He presses reverent kisses to the side of your breasts, before mouthing at your nipple.
He looks up at you, mouth still pressed on your skin. “C’mon, honey. What are you waitin’ for?”
You hook your panties to the side, rub your slick cunt over his cock. Jack lets out a huff of impatience. His hand comes down on your ass harshly, quickly rubbing the sting away.
“Darling,” he says through gritted teeth.
You hum, still rocking against him.
“Now who’s being mean?”
“Am I?” You look down at him through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Yes. Why?”
“Cuz it’s fun.” You shrug. “Payback’s a bitch, baby.” You press a light kiss to his lips, pulling back with a smirk before he can deepen it.
He groans. “You gonna make me beg?”
You nod, lips dancing across his jaw. “How badly do you want me?” Your teeth rake against the shell of his ear.
Jack shudders, warmth rushing across his face. “You know how bad,” he mumbles, hips rocking his hard cock up against you.
“Wanna hear you say it.” You nip his earlobe. “Tell me.”
Jack cups your jaw, fingers rubbing absentmindedly at your cheek. “Want you bad, baby.” His voice is a low, husky whisper. “So bad it hurts. Need to be inside your sweet pussy to take the pain away.”
“Yeah?” You slip the tip of his cock inside of you and Jack groans.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice muffled by your breast. “Please, honey.” He presses an open mouthed kiss to the skin, and then the gentle skate of teeth as he bites teasingly.
You feign deep consideration for a moment, balanced above him. Hips rocking shallowly to coat him with your warmth. Jack’s breath comes out in labored pants against your collarbone. It must be killing him to be patient. To not take control, grab your hips and yank you down on top of him. Put you on your back and fuck into you.
You might as well reward him.
“Relax, baby. Let me take care of you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair to cup the back of his neck. “Take care of my old man after his grueling 12-hour shift.”
Jack looks up at you, a smile on his face. A smile that morphs into a slack-jawed mask of ecstasy as you slide down onto his cock. His groan so full of relief, it’s almost painful. Bubbling up inside of him until it rumbles out of his throat into the quiet room.
He holds your gaze, whispering quiet praises as you move your hips forward slowly. Savoring the fullness of him within you, the subtle stretch and tightness with every roll back and forth. It’s good. So achingly good.
“Shit, baby. You feel fucking amazing,” Jack whispers. “Feel like home.”
You bite your bottom lip, a moan on your tongue. “Want me to move faster?”
“Nah, honey. Take your time. Just wanna feel you.” One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other splays across your back, holding you close to him.
So close, your body slides against him with every undulation of your hips. So close he can feel your heart beating in your chest, keeping time with the frantic pace of his own. So close your breaths mingle and twine. Honeyed moans and adulations dripping from your tongues. So full of love, full of worship, they fill his chest with light and warmth. Building and building. Until he’s so close to that wonderful edge he could burst.
And in any other case he might feel embarrassed to last so briefly. In any other bed, in any other place, he might put it off as long as he could. Fight through it. But not here. Not in this safe space, this home that you’ve both created. Where connection and pleasure is the goal. Where the little death is one to be savored, and not staved off. This hedonistic dance that leads to more and more.
A different pace. One he’s still getting used to.
And so when the sensation of your warm cunt grows to be too much. When the waves of pleasure slam against the dam of self-control and it starts to crack and crumble. He comes without warning. A firecracker in the dark early dawn. Filling you until he’s spent and boneless.
Jack collapses on the bed in sweaty rapture. That bright smile on his face once more mirrors your own.
You lean over him, fingers tracing the lines of his face. Nails playing in the stubble that lines his jaw. “Doing okay?”
He gives you a thumbs up in answer. “Never better.”
“Just checking. I know heart attacks are common for men in your age bracket. Especially after such vigorous activity–”
Jack silences your teasing by rolling you swiftly onto your side, and you laugh sharply in surprise. “Honey, I’m healthy as a horse.” He wraps your leg around his waist. “In fact, since I still owe you one.” His thumb nudges your clit, and your body arches into his. “Let me show you.”
YALL MY SHOW IS BACK ON be right back
Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Warnings: Language might be the only one in this chapter? Very fluffy
Description: After babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot, Jack doesn't exactly sleep with the reader. At Eliza's ice skating recital, the reader decides to help Jack learn how to skate again after losing his foot.
--
Robby leaned against the high counter of the desk hub, pulling his glasses out to read a message on his phone. His wife approached him, bumping him with an elbow when she copied his lean against the desk hub.
“I know something you don’t know.” She greeted in a sing-songy voice.
Without looking up, trying to focus his phone screen through his glasses, Robby answered, “I already know about the patient in Psych One. Had a potato peeler shoved up his ass. Guess who had to remove it.”
She tilted her head, genuinely concerned. “What?”
Robby’s eyes flicked up over his glasses, realizing that was not the gossip she knew. “The patient in Psych One?” He repeated.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I was talking about.” She replied, but then giggled, wrapping an arm around his bicep. “Sorry you had to do that.”
He shrugged. “Not even in the top ten items I’ve pulled out of someone’s ass.” He mumbled before looking at his phone again, holding it an elderly distance away from his face. “What do you know?”
His wife grinned devilishly, pushing his phone away so that she had his full attention. Robby smiled slightly at the excitement in her eyes. “She came to work today in his scrubs.” She revealed.
“Wait, wait…how do you know they’re his?” Robby was incredibly invested now.
“I saw the shirt tag on the scrub tub.” She continued, her smile somehow widening even more. “J Dot Abbot.”
—
Only two more days of working the day shift. That’s the record you kept on loop in your brain—only two more days of annoyingly simple cases that should have gone to urgent care. At least at night, the urgent care centers were closed, and patients had no other choice but to land in the Pitt. But more importantly, only two more shifts until you worked with Jack again.
The words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” had not been uttered, but the connection was intensely deep. When you went home with him after babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot a couple of weeks ago, you thought the trajectory to his bedroom was obvious. The hot kisses against your car door seemed fictional now that he didn’t sleep with you that night. All the signs pointed to his lap, but you ended up in his arms instead, separated by layers of clothes. He hadn’t even removed his prosthesis. You couldn’t complain too much because you woke the next morning, more rested than you had been in years, to the smell of bacon, banana pancakes, and coffee looming from the kitchen.
His chrome ringlets were still holding onto water from the shower, glistening in the early morning sunlight that shone through the window. His massive, flexed forearms looked more delicious than the pancake mix he was stirring. You were met with the warmest, dimple-filled smile as you padded into the kitchen.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” He greeted, voice slow as honey.
You stepped closer, pulling at the sleeve of your lavender sweatshirt from the day before. “I’ve gotta go get my scrubs for work.” You said sheepishly.
Jack pointed to the black scrubs lying on the counter, folded neatly with military precision. “They’re not Figs, but they get the job done.” He noted.
You walked to the counter, pulling the shirt off the top, letting it unfold. A laugh escaped your lungs. “Jack, these are yours.” You scoffed.
“I know.”
A warmth crawled across your cheeks and slithered down your chest. “All this so I can stay for breakfast?” You teased, making your way over to him again.
“Mmhmm. Go on, get changed. I’ll be done here in a minute.” He finished his order with a kiss on your forehead.
That morning had ended with sticky, syrupy kisses before he sent you off to work with a protein bar and an energy drink. When you arrived in the baggier-than-usual black scrubs that smelled perfectly of Jack, sandalwood and citrus, Robby’s wife clocked it immediately. She gave you a nudge on the arm when you stood next to her in front of the patient board.
“Thanks for watching the kids. Eliza told me all about it this morning.” She said.
You smiled, looking at her for a brief second, and you were met with the smuggest, all-knowing smirk. You couldn’t hold back the giggle in your chest. “Nothing happened.” You defended, and it wasn’t a complete lie.
She leaned closer, arms crossed. “Well, something happened because unless your washing machine can magically make clothes grow…” She gestured to your oversized scrubs. “Those are not yours.”
The blush on your cheeks blew your cover. “Fine. I slept over with him…but we did not sleep with each other.” You clarified.
Because of your current schedule, you only saw Jack at shift change if he wasn’t elbows deep in a patient before you got called to another patient’s room. He wouldn’t kiss you or even touch you, but he had a coffee waiting for you in your locker with a fluorescent sticky note that read “Good luck today -J” every single morning. And every morning, you would tape the sticky note to the inside of your locker, creating a colorful collage that began to rival the betting wall. You would prance out of the lounge, warm coffee in your hands, and sit at your desk. And if time allowed, Jack would sit at the computer next to you, charting, and let his knee just barely brush against yours. No words. But you could hear it in the silence.
As you shucked off your gloves after handling your last patient of the day, you heard a tiny voice screech your name, and something clung to your leg. You looked down to see Eliza, hair pulled back into a sleek bun, in a sparkly dress that matched the hot pink cast encasing her arm.
“Oh, where did you come from?” You asked as you hauled the giggling girl into your arms.
“Are you coming to my recital?” She asked, wrapping her arms around your neck.
Before you could answer, you heard hurried, uneven footsteps approach from behind you. “Eliza, do not run away from me like that again.” You heard your soldier’s gravelly voice order. “Do you understand me, young lady?”
You turned around to see Jack, holding baby Abbot in his arms, approaching with an aggravated gait and piercing gaze. Eliza cowered in shame into your shoulder. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” She mumbled, giving him the biggest, brownest, puppy dog eyes you had ever seen.
And Jack was a sucker for that little girl. The frustration immediately washed from his face, and he placed a gentle hand on her back. “It’s okay, princess. You just need to hold an adult’s hand when you’re here, okay?” He soothed.
Eliza nodded in innocent understanding. “Okay.” She answered.
Jack shook his head but smiled nonetheless. Finally, he focused on you, eyes softening when they met yours. “Hi.” He greeted with a sigh.
You nudged your shoulder against his, itching for a sliver of physical contact. “Hey.” You replied. “Dropping off the kids?”
Jack shifted baby Abbot in his arms so that you could see his chubby little face. You ran a gentle finger against his cheek, and the baby smiled. “Yeah. Eliza has an ice skating recital tonight, so we’re gonna watch the ice princess do her thing.” He answered, poking at Eliza’s side, illiciting a giggle from her. “You coming?” He asked you.
Even though you only hesitated for just a second, Eliza immediately piped up, holding your face in her tiny hands. “Please come see me skate!” She begged with those same convincing eyes she had flashed at Jack just moments ago. Damn, Robinavitches can get whatever they want with those eyes.
“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You assured her.
Eliza cheered in excitement, hugging your neck tightly. You laughed and squeezed her closer. It felt so natural now, holding her like this, like she was your family. Baby Abbot began to kick his legs and babble with a gummy smile as he looked behind you and Jack.
“Hey, little man.” Robby’s uncharacteristically, overly-cheerful voice came from behind you.
“Daddy!” Eliza immediately squirmed out of your arms, reaching for her father.
Robby carefully took her into his arms, pressing a squishy kiss against her cheek. “Hey, big girl.” He greeted her before pulling her away slightly to look her in the eyes. “I heard Uncle Jack get on to you. What happened?”
He looked at Jack, waiting for an answer, but Jack only gestured to Eliza, letting her explain. Eliza looked down, an ashamed pout on her face. “I ran away from him so I could hug her.” She said, pointing towards you at the end.
Robby nodded, squeezing her a little tighter at the thought of her being snatched up by some deranged patient. “You know the rules, Eliza. If you come to see Mommy and Daddy at work, you have to stay with a grown-up. No running away.” He lectured. “It’s to keep you safe, okay?”
The little girl nodded, moving her hands to play with his beard. “Yes, sir.” She replied, still ashamed, but with an adorable respectfulness.
And just like Jack, he was no match for her sweetness. He pressed his forehead against hers. “Are you ready to skate?” He asked with a playful seriousness.
Eliza grinned and pulled at the mesh sleeve of her skater dress. “Yes!” She affirmed. “Is Nana coming to watch?” She asked, looking around for the blond charge nurse.
Robby nodded. “Yes, she’s going to meet us there. She had to leave a little early, but you’ll see her when we get to the rink.” He assured.
The little girl smiled big, excited that her whole family would be there to see her figure skating. Robby’s wife approached your huddle, greeting both of her babies with a kiss on the cheek. Jack, almost reluctantly, handed over baby Abbot to his mother.
“Are we ready to go?” She asked, resting her forehead on baby Abbot’s head, absorbing his cuteness after a rough shift.
Robby looked around, searching for a certain attending holding his signature iced coffee. “I need to talk to Shen before shift change. You might need to head on without me so she isn’t late for warm up.” He answered.
His wife nodded. “Okay, I can take the truck. Gonna ride with Jack?”
Jack gave a nonchalant thumbs up, affirming the plan. Robby nodded before focusing his attention on Eliza. “Daddy has to work a little bit longer. You’re gonna go ahead with Mommy and-”
“No!” Eliza exclaimed, face scrunching with frustration.
It caught everyone off guard. It was rare for the angelic child to have any kind of outburst. Robby’s brow furrowed. “Eliza.” He said sternly.
“No, Daddy!” Her big, brown eyes began to well up with tears. “You said that last time, and you didn’t come watch me skate.”
There was an uncomfortable silence amongst all of you, but everyone else seemed to know a backstory that you didn’t. Robby’s wife stepped forward, one arm holding up baby Abbot, and the other moving to rub soothing circles on Eliza’s back. “Sweetheart, Daddy is going to watch you skate. Last time was different.”
Eliza’s bottom lip quivered as she grabbed her dad’s face, fingers nestling in his beard. “Pinky promise?” She begged.
Robby took in a shaky breath, something unusual in his eyes. Oh…those were tears. Not heavy enough to fall, but just enough to reflect light. He wrapped his large pinky around the tiny one that settled on his face. “Pinky promise.” He whispered.
Reluctantly, he let go of his daughter, so she could walk with his wife to the car. Jack noticed Robby’s distress and, for the first time in public, grabbed your hand in his.
“Why don’t you ride with them? I’ll make sure Robby gets there.” He mumbled, only low enough for your group to hear.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Okay.” You squeezed his hand once before heading off with Robby’s wife and the kids.
–
You sat in the bleachers next to Robby’s wife. She had wrapped baby Abbot snugly in a warm blanket so he wouldn’t get cold from the chilly indoor air. Eliza moved around the ice with her friends, more advanced than the other five-year-olds.
“I’m sorry about that.” Robby’s wife finally said.
You raised your eyebrows in confusion. “For what?”
“For Eliza’s outburst back at the Pitt.” She elaborated.
You shrugged, offering a reassuring smile. “Kids will be kids.”
She sighed, shaking her head as she seemed to relive a painful moment. “A few months ago, right when Abbot was born, she had a competition. Jack was watching the baby for us, so Robby and I could both come to the rink. But right as we were leaving, five MVC patients came in. So I took Eliza, and Robby had to stay behind and help Shen.” She explained, shifting the baby boy in her arms so that he could rest comfortably as his eyelids began to droop. “It was the first time he missed any competition or recital.”
You winced, knowing there was no way to explain that situation to a young child. “I’m assuming she didn't take it well?” You added.
Robby’s wife huffed a sarcastic laugh. “You would be correct. She cried and cried, even when he got home. Eventually, she tired herself out, but it was the first time she wouldn’t let him put her to bed.” She continued, frowning again as she said, “Robby cried for an hour that night.”
You felt your heart ache at the thought of one of your mentors crying over his little girl. “I know that was hard for him. He loves her so much.” You replied.
She nodded and smiled slightly. “He’s the best dad. He’s always talking about how the kids and I are his second chance at life. How we brought the light back into him…” Her smile grew warmly as she reminisced on her marriage and family.
You couldn’t help but smile with her. Footsteps approaching behind you distracted you from your conversation. Robby and Jack walked down the stairs of the bleachers, arms linked to give Jack extra balance. They each held a bouquet of roses, undoubtedly for Eliza after the recital. A quiet “Thanks, brother” was all you heard before the men settled on either side of the two of you. Robby leaned in to kiss his wife, mumbling something that you couldn’t quite decipher.
Meanwhile, Jack bumped his shoulder against yours, gaining your focus. “You ready to be on night shift again?” He asked.
You pretended to hesitate. “I mean, I guess…” You trailed off, looking away from his gorgeous stare.
He chuckled and looked out at the ice rink. “Ouch.”
Cautiously, you grasped the interior hook of his elbow, placing your other hand on his bicep, and leaned close. “Ready to be with the night shift people again.”
He tilted his head lower to rest on yours, his arm flexing under your grasp. “The people?” He questioned. “Like all of them…or some of them…or just one of them…?”
You giggled at his antics, lightly squeezing his bicep. “Just one of them.” You confirmed.
Music began to play overhead, and all of the little ice skaters lined up. Eliza looked out into the bleachers amongst the other parents, searching for her family. The four of you clocked it, and you all waved at her. Even from a distance, you could see her excited grin as she waved back. Someone sat behind you on the bleachers, patting Jack’s shoulder.
“You know, you need to whip your night shift into shape.” Dana’s voice grumbled. “I left an hour late because of them.”
Jack turned around, an offended look on his face. “My night shift? It’s Robby’s department.” He defended.
Robby peeked his head up at the sound of his name being brought into an argument. “Not my monkeys, not my circus.” He retorted.
Jack huffed. “Um, it absolutely is your circus. You’re the fucking ringleader.”
“Yeah, but not night shift. They’re another breed.” Robby replied, eyes focused on his daughter.
Dana raised an eyebrow at Jack, waiting for his next response. “Whatcha gotta say about that, Lieutenant Colonel?” She taunted.
Jack waved her off. “Can you leave me alone? I’m trying to watch my niece.” He complained.
You looked up to him. “The recital hasn’t started yet, they’re just doing warm-up drills.” You countered.
His bewildered eyes flicked to you. “And it’s cute.”
Dana chuckled before waving at baby Abbot, who giggled at her. “Hey there, sweet boy.” She greeted.
The baby reached for her, and Robby’s wife willingly exchanged him to Dana’s arms so she could record the recital on her phone. You heard Dana mumble something about “Maybe we’ll just rename you Daniel,” as the lights in the bleachers dimmed, and the rink illuminated the tiny dancers in their glittery outfits.
–
The music ended, and the audience cheered for their kids. The little skaters made their way off the ice, and you all met Eliza at the bottom of the bleachers. She carefully wobbled over to her parents’ embrace. Robby snatched her up so they could kiss her cheeks.
“You did so good, baby girl!” His wife praised.
She giggled and covered her face. “Thank you, Mommy.” She answered politely.
Robby lifted the bouquet of light pink roses that he had concealed behind his back. “These are for you.” He announced with the chivalry of a prince.
Eliza’s eyes widened. “Flowers!” She exclaimed. “I love flowers!”
Jack smiled and held up his bouquet of white roses to her. “Then I guess you’ll like these, too.” He suggested.
The little girl could not fathom that she had so many flowers. The bouquets in her little arms nearly took up her whole body.
“What do you say?” Robby’s wife cued.
Eliza wrapped her arms around the necks of both men, squeezing them in until the sides of their heads bumped together. “Thank you, Daddy and Uncle Jack!”
They both pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jack caring so deeply for his niece. Dana bounced baby Abbot in her arms and reached for her phone.
“Okay, we need a family picture.” She announced.
Robby’s wife reached for baby Abbot. She sat him up in her arms and nestled into Robby’s embrace, squishing their family together. Dana took several pictures while you and Jack made silly faces behind her to make the baby laugh, inevitably making Eliza giggle, too.
“We need a big family picture!” The little girl exclaimed.
You absentmindedly reached for Dana’s phone to take a picture of all of them. Robby stopped her by saying, “What are you doing? You’re in the picture.”
Oh. You were in the family now. Jack smiled, holding his arm out for you to curl into for the picture. You handed the phone to another parent and wrapped your arm around Jack, leaning in close. After the picture, he pressed the most subtle kiss to your temple, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.
“Can we skate now?” Eliza asked her parents.
Robby’s wife smiled. “Yeah, let me get our skates out of Daddy’s truck, okay?”
You looked to them, a little confused. Jack caught your expression. “They let the families free skate with their kids after the recital.” He explained.
You nodded slowly before looking up at him again. “Are you gonna skate?”
There was a hint of sadness in his gold-flecked eyes that hit you in the chest. “I don’t skate anymore.” He answered, wiggling his right foot.
Robby shifted Eliza in his arms so that she sat on the side of his hip. “It’s a shame. Me and Jack used to play in a pick-up hockey league when we were young.” He revealed.
Your eyes widened, mouth dropping in shock. “Excuse me?”
Jack chuckled and crossed his arms. “We are still young.” He protested.
Dana scoffed and rolled her eyes. “God will strike you down for lying.” She warned. “They used to come in to work with bloody noses and sprained fingers. They’re lucky they worked in a trauma center.”
The old men waved her off but still laughed. Robby’s wife returned with a duffel bag with two pairs of skates. You sat on the bleachers with Jack as they pulled the skates on and set off on the ice with their daughter holding each of their hands. Dana sat behind you both a few rows up, cradling baby Abbot as he slept in his warm blanket.
You leaned your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watched Robby expertly move across the ice. “Do you miss it?” You finally asked.
Jack looked down at you, trying to read your expression. “Miss what?” He questioned.
“Skating?” You clarified.
The silence that followed seemed never-ending. You worried that you might have struck a nerve, but then he quietly answered, “Yeah, I do.”
You smiled slightly. “Then, why don’t we go out there?”
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t know…”
“Why? Are you scared?” You taunted with a smirk, thinking if you playfully challenged him, he might cave.
Jack’s eyes met yours, and boy, you could see that vulnerability again. “Yes.” His answer was short and quick.
You smiled reassuringly. “What’s your skate size?”
“14.”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that large of a number. “Well, you know what they say.” You said with a wink.
Jack rolled his eyes but chuckled at you as you pranced away to the skate rental booth. You were going to be the death of him.
–
You stepped onto the ice, ankles stabilizing as the traction under your feet changed. The ice wasn’t fresh, but you had no issue gliding a couple of feet. You carefully turned around to help Jack. But he waited at the entrance, stricken with fear. His eyes were blown wider than usual, and his chest moved quickly. He looked like he was about to jump out of a plane and not step onto an ice rink.
A couple of steps, and you were right in front of him. Your hands reached out to grab his with a grounding firmness. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” You promised.
He only nodded. He shifted in the skates uncomfortably, like he had every intention to take a step forward, but his feet still didn’t move. His grip on your hands tightened so much that they began to shake.
“Jack?” You whispered.
He didn’t look at you. Only stared at the ice before him like it was a lava floor. “Hmm?”
You decided to take a trick out of his book. You moved your head until his eyes had no choice but to meet yours. Seeking out the contact. His whiskey eyes were nearly black from dilation. The fear was truly crippling him. “I’ve got you, baby.” Your voice was powerfully gentle.
Baby. You called him baby. The first term of endearment between each other. The word left your lips so naturally, like you had called him baby a thousand times already. It was enough to ground him. It was enough to move his left foot forward, letting the blade touch the ice.
You turned your ankles in to stabilize yourself on the ice so you could wrap your arm around his waist. His hands moved to your shoulders, grabbing painfully tight, but you didn’t care.
“You’re doing so good, Jack.” You sang sweetly.
The softness in your voice was the same one you spoke to Eliza with, but he didn’t feel patronized. He felt stronger and affirmed by the way you said his name. He swallowed hard when he began to move his right foot up to the ice.
“There you go.” The praise continued to fall from your lips.
Finally, the blade hit the ice. The feeling was so foreign to him. There were no sensors in his foot to feel the slickness of the ice. He had to predict it from halfway up his shin. Since he was a child, he could skate on ice better than he could run, and he was a fucking track star. After losing his right foot, he hadn’t dared to get on the ice again. Not because he couldn’t. He had learned to walk and run again with enough physical therapy. But he was afraid that he couldn’t. The confirmation that he couldn’t do something was terrifying.
Jack took the smallest step forward with his right foot, studying the way his balance reacted to the ice. You patiently waited as he loosened the painful grip on your shoulders, moving his hands down to your forearms.
Slowly, you skated backwards, pulling him with you. His feet moved cautiously, and his breathing began to deepen with confidence.
“That’s it. You’re doing it.” You said, not raising your voice enough to draw attention, but enough to make him look up.
The beaming smile on your face could have melted the entire rink. Jack knew in that moment that he had never been looked at with such pride and love in his life. Your eyes told him that he had hung the stars, and he believed it. A smile tugged at his lips, daring to share in your happiness.
The happiness only lasted for a few more feet and cautious feet shuffling. His skate caught in a groove that yours had managed to avoid. The fall happened so fast, but you were ready to catch him in your arms and drop to the ice, undoubtedly hitting your head. But that wasn’t what happened. You never hit the ice. Your entire body was cushioned by his. In that split second, your soldier had changed the trajectory of your fall, taking your place of hitting the ice.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Was the first thing you heard from him, his voice breaking. “Are you okay, are you hurt?”
You sat up quickly to see him below you, fighting back the pain that had to be wracking through his body. You pulled him to sit up, grabbing his face in your hands.
“Jack, I’m fine. Are you okay?” You asked, scanning his body for any dislocated or broken limbs.
Before he could answer, the smallest “Uncle Jack!” rang from across the rink. You both looked up to see Eliza scurrying over. Knowing she was moving too fast and couldn’t stop herself without falling, you caught her in your arms.
“Uncle Jack, are you okay?” She asked, the worry palpable in her question.
Jack faked a smile, but you could see him cracking behind it. “I’m okay, princess.” He confirmed. “Just fell down.”
Eliza threw her arms around his neck, and for the first time that you had seen, he didn’t relax or let go of his troubles. He numbly hugged his niece, eyes devoid of the usual joy she could impart.
Robby quickly approached, kicking up a wave of shaved ice as he halted next to you. “You alright, brother?” He asked as he knelt down.
Jack continued holding Eliza, hoping that eventually the pain would numb if he did. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I’m not ready.” He said, looking up at Robby.
While the comment was clearly about ice skating to your ears, Robby knew its double meaning. Just as he was about to speak, your voice cut through. “Jack. You have to keep trying.”
Jack shook his head, letting go of Eliza. He began to struggle, wanting to stand up, but the skates kept slipping as he tried to get a grip. “I don’t think I can do this.”
You put a settling hand on his shoulder, letting it drag to his sharp jaw, forcing eye contact again. “Well, I know you can.” You reinforced.
This time, Jack’s eyes were glassy. The threat of tears loomed off the distance in the storm in his eyes. Your thumb brushed his cheek, ready to fight back against anything that fell.
Eliza moved over to Robby, letting him place a protective hand to stabilize her. “It’s okay, Uncle Jack. I fall down all the time, but Daddy says ‘Suck it up, buttercup.’” She imparted her wisdom.
The tension broke. Everyone burst into laughter at the little girl’s innocent pep talk. Robby pulled his daughter tightly into his arms, shoulders still shaking with chuckles, and kissed her forehead. “That’s right, sweetheart.” He said.
When you could see clearly again after recovering from laughter, you looked at Jack. He lost the battle to tears, letting them fall freely as he smiled. With the sleeve of your underscrub shirt, you wiped them away before Eliza could see them and worry further.
“You have your own army around you, Jack. We’re with you every step of the way.” You assured him.
Jack took a much-needed deep breath and reached to grasp your hand resting on his jaw. He looked up to Robby, who smiled and gave him a playful salute. He never imagined that he would find himself uttering these words as his grown ass age, but he finally said, “Okay. I can try again.” His voice was stronger now, the gravel back in his words.
You and Robby helped him stand to his feet on either side of him. With one arm thrown around each of your shoulders, he stabilized on the ice, testing the pressure on his right foot. Eliza danced ahead, doing her little twirls showcased in her recital.
“Eliza, you don’t have to show off.” Jack called out to her. “Let Uncle Jack get his sea legs back.”
The little girl giggled as she continued to prance on the ice. Carefully, you and Robby moved to help Jack adjust to how his body balanced on the ice. Tiny steps, shuffling forward, left foot always moving more confidently than the right.
“You’re gonna be skating circles around me again pretty soon, brother.” Robby said, and it drew a laugh from Jack.
“I’ll have to pull my hockey stick out of the attic. Gotta teach Abbot how play since he doesn’t have anyone else to teach him.” He replied.
Robby chuckled and held back the urge to shove him. “You’re forgetting that I am the only thing between safety and falling back on your ass right now.” He teased.
The old men laughed, but not like usual. Like they were boys again, fresh out of medical school, having fun before they had split for different residency programs. Just like old times. As if on cue, tiny screams could be heard from the bleachers outside the rink. Robby’s wife was bouncing baby Abbot in her arms, trying to soothe him, with Dana at her side. She looked out to the ice desperately, and Robby let out a sigh. He looked at you, brow furrowed with conflict.
“I need to go help her. You got him?” He asked.
The look in his eyes transcended the simple question. Asking not if you could keep him from falling, but if you could care for him. If you could support him more than just on the ice rink. If you could handle him. You nodded, wrapping your arm tighter around Jack’s waist. “I’ve got him.” You affirmed, a small nod to let him know that you read past the question.
Robby smiled slightly and let go of Jack. “Alright, brother. Stay with her, alright?” He said before quickly moving off the rink to tend to his family, Eliza following behind him.
After a few moments of shuffling carefully, never fully picking your skates off the ice, you spoke up. “I’m sorry for pushing you to do this. You weren’t comfortable.” You apologized.
Jack stopped his movements, pulling you back to him when you glided a couple of inches ahead. “I needed this.” He replied, squeezing your hand tightly. He led your hand to his chest, then wrapped his arms around your waist. “I need you.” He added.
His breath was hot on your cheeks, warming from the cold air that surrounded you. You rubbed small circles on his chest, able to trace the muscles that hid beneath his shirt. “Need me how?” You asked.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “In every sense of the word.” He leaned closer, your noses brushing. “I need you.” He repeated.
His lips captured yours in a tender kiss, and he pulled your body as close as it could get to his, threatening to combine skin cells together. One hand trailed to his jaw, massaging the muscles there as he brushed his tongue against your lips. Fortunately, you were snapped back to reality and reminded of your public location because a shriek from the bleachers rang through the rink:
“Mommy! Daddy! They’re kissing just like you said!”
—
In the car on the way home, Robby and his wife whispered quietly as he drove, careful not to wake the exhausted kids in the backseat.
“He’s in love with her.” He finally suggested.
His wife looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “How do you know?” She asked.
Robby smiled and squeezed her hand he held across the console. “Because he’s looking at her the way I look at you.”
She smiled bashfully and shook her head. “Be serious.”
“I am. Jack never even looked at his first wife that way. There’s a connection between them that’s just…different. I saw it tonight with my own eyes.” He explained, twirling the wedding and engagement ring on her finger.
“They’re taking it slow. Much slower than we did.” She teased.
Robby chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips. “It’s hard to take it slow with you. With that laugh. That smile. That body…” He trailed his kisses up her forearm, still managing to watch the road.
“Robby, stop it.” His wife demanded, but she didn’t really mean it.
“I think Abbot wants to be a big brother.”
“Michael!”
--
A/N: Thank y'all for reading! I don't know why but I just have this headcanon where Robby and Jack used to play pick-up hockey before his accident. Thank you all for reading! Chapter 4 will be a veryyy spicy one!
Four of my FICS on ao3 were scraped by nyuuzyou. Lmao fuck you for using using AI to do dumb shit like this go fuck yourself
Update: deleted all my shit bc you’re not gonna get to read shit now you dumb bag of bricks.
honestly mad respect for pope francis cause he used his dying breath to pray for gaza and to shit on jd vance and that’s an inspiring way to go out
pedro pedro pedro
¡qué calor! [javier peña x bipoc moodboard].
content credit: image one, stephanie. image two, jasmine. image three, phaith.
a/n: a veryyyy belated request, curated for @verybigvag. i’m so sorry for the wait! and, you could never bother me. c’mon, now. <3
npt: @80ssong. @almostempty. @almostfoxglove. @always-andromeda. @clubsoft. @cxrsed-angel. @dontlookatme121. @frankensteingotwet. @gothcsz. @joeloverture. @jolapeno. @letsgobarbs. @magpiepills. @mandaloriankait. @ovaryacted. @yxtkiwiyxt.
🔗 here’s a couple more instagram pages that i enjoyed scrolling through, while sourcing for this. just in case anybody else’s interested. <3 becca, bethany, carobi, & maddie.
THIS MAN IS A MENACE
PEDRO PASCAL Jimmy Kimmel Live | March 24, 2025
february💌