Jack Dawkins One Shots

Former Profession

As was typical for chaotic late Saturday night, Jack and Y/n found themselves sprawled on the worn stairs of the surgical theatre, laughter echoing in the dimly lit hall. The scent of blood lingered in the air, mingling with the remnants of drinks. With rosy cheeks and slightly slurred speech, they leaned against one another, engaging in a series of increasingly ridiculous and pointless questions that only seemed to fuel their giggles. The faint glow of the lights beyond the windows cast playful shadows around them. And of course, the topic soon came up...

"Y/n?" he asked, his body pressed against hers. He had one hand on her thigh, the other holding his drink.

"Yes?" Y/n giggled a little tipsy, sipping her brown beer bottle, grimacing a little from the taste.

"How many people have you... Been with?" he asked, his fingers lightly tracing shapes along her thigh as he spoke,

"Been with?"

"You know what I mean. Sex," he chuckled, "Pretty sure I was your first, wasn't I?"

Y/n laughed hysterically, almost falling off the step.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her, "What's so funny?"

"Awwww, you're cute, Jack." She laughed, having another sip,

"And you're avoiding the question," he told her, "Come on, no need to be shy. It's okay if I was."

"Yeah, really funny, Jack."

"Come on! I wanna know," he asked, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.

"... You were serious?" she laughed,

"Yes, I'm deadly serious." his eyes stared right into hers.

She stared at the ceiling, her head tilted in that signature way she does when she's thinking a little too hard. Her tongue came up to her top lip as she often did when she was doing maths in her mind... As she wasn't the best at maths.

The time, however, she was taking to answer him was... Not exactly making him feel better. He took a rather large drink of his beer as he waited to take in the information.

"... Thirty-four. Give or take." She finally answered.

He almost choked, almost spat his beer from his lips. It took a lot of effort on Jack's part for his jaw not to drop in utter shock and surprise. He cleared his throat softly before speaking. "Any chance of you... Elaborating on that?"

"I'm sure there's one or two I don't remember."

He let out a soft, strangled choking noise, "One or two you don't remember?"

"I don't remember all of them," she shrugged,

Jack stared at her blankly, his mind reeling. "You... don't remember all of them?"

"It's alot, I can't remember every single one." She said, noticing his tone. "Don't judge me! You were on the navy for ten years you fucked a girl in every port from Portsmouth to Sydney."

He opened his mouth to protest, but... no words arrived, as he quickly realised he didn't exactly have a rebuttal. "That's a fair point." he took another swig of his beer, running his hand through his hair as he leaned his head against the railing. "But... thirty-four. That's a lot... I wasn't expecting that many."

"I did used to work in a pub, Jack."

"I know that you used to work in a pub," he muttered, "I remember. That's where we met." He cooed, trying to lean closer for a kiss,

"Humm, my cute little Navy boy who came to visit me every time he was in port."

"I was an officer." He playfully protested,