#like there's a LOT to how this came to be

[butyoudidthis4what]

Quiet

Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader

19.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: sick baby; sick mom; mentions of needles; inaccurate medical knowledge/descriptions/tests etc.; reference to past pregnancy; reference to past miscarriages but no graphic descriptions, just a mention they occurred (reader does not actively experience one in the fic); Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of IVs and needle sticks; reader gets an IV and is not afraid of needles; mild description of IV insertion; shy reader; discussion of possible peanut allergy; mentions of covid, influenza a and b and RSV; mom guilt; discussions of loss of spouse; lots of grief and self hate for a bit; Jack is vaguely suicidal and ideating at the beginning; healing; reader and jack are human and not perfect and make mistakes; reader can't cook; baby is a boy but is not named; DOMESTIC JACK

Summary: Widower Jack and widowed single mom Reader meet in the Pitt when Reader's baby gets sick. What follows is healing, patience and becoming ready.

A.N.: Inspired by this ask. This was so inspiring and I went totally off the rails. There will for sure be a part two. I really wanted to do something with Jack being a widower but was unsure of how to. This ask came in and the idea came to me and I felt like it was a good way to work with that piece of him. The beginning is quite emotional, I'm not going to say angst, there's just a lot of emotions and sadness and grief as we define Jack and Reader's reality. I PROMISE that the end gets fluffy and happy and (I hope) funny! Part two will be more fluff with a dash of emotion sprinkled in as we watch their relationship develop and the two get their happily ever after together!

You make it to about ten before you decide to go in. It’s not a long drive and by 10:15 p.m. you’re parked and walking into the ED.

You bite your lip and bounce just a little to help keep him asleep in your arms while the woman behind the plexiglass processes your insurance and co-pay. She gives you a warm smile, says to take a seat and it’ll be just a few minutes and they’ll get you back. 

Thanking her you grab your cards and do as she says. You’re surprised by how quiet it is. There’s a few people in the waiting room but it seems more like they’re waiting on people as opposed to be seen. Small mercies, you suppose. You’ll take what you can get. 

You can only imagine what you must look like right now, how bad you must look. You wish your husband was here. Wish he had been here for it all. He’d reassure you. Tell you that you were doing the right thing by coming in. Better to be safe than sorry. You can hear him telling you it. 

A call of your last name dissolves his voice playing in the back of your head. You follow a nurse back and get settled in a room. All the basics are done, everything you expected. And like you expected the second you set your son down so that his vitals can be taken he starts to cry. It makes you want to cry. 

Bridget reassures you that it’s okay, is quick taking his vitals so you can get him back in your arms and calm him. You know you must look like a mess, hair messed up, eyes reflecting how exhausted you are and the lack of sleep, wrinkled clothes that have at least one stain somewhere, probably more. And you’re sure that your face reflects how you feel inside, how frazzled you are, how guilty, how scared, how upset, how sad, how out of control you feel. 

Bridget dims the lights for you and leaves you to hold your son against you in the hospital bed. “I’ll have a doctor in as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, “and I’m sorry for being kind of a mess. Well, not kind of at this point.” 

She just laughs. “I understand, but trust me, you’re doing just fine.”

You manage to give her a small smile back and nod. She walks out and then it’s just you and your son. Like it always is. Your husband isn’t here, he’s never going to be here. His absence is pronounced as you lay in a hospital bed in an emergency room with your sick nine-month old. You do your best to not think about it because if you do, you’ll lose it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s missing her tonight, more than usual. Maybe it’s not so much that he’s missing her more than usual but he’s more aware of how much he always misses her. It’s more acute. Like some flareup of a chronic illness. Thinking in medical terms helps.

He knows he shouldn’t do that, try to understand it like it’s some illness he can study and understand. It’s just grief. It’s just there more than others some days. Sometimes he can articulate why and others he can’t.

Tonight he can’t. 

He bends his thumb inward and puts it on his wedding band, thumbs at it so it rolls around his finger. Nervous habit. That’s what he calls it now. When she was alive it helped ground him, reminded him she was there and he’d be going home to her, could make it through whatever was in front of him. And then she died. So now he tells himself it’s a nervous habit because he doesn’t know what the fuck else to call it. 

To those who don’t know him he still looks like a husband subtly using his wedding band to ground himself or remind himself of his wife or because he’s thinking about her and so he’s subconsciously playing with his ring. 

If only. 

Jack inches a little further and looks down over the ledge of the roof. The ground looks so inviting from the roof sometimes. It would be so simple. He could be reunited with her, if such a thing was real. 

Sometimes though he wants to be selfish and not care how she’d feel about it because she, unlike him, isn’t around anymore to feel fucking anything. Sometimes his grief comes out in anger because she got it fucking easy, she didn’t have to lose him, she doesn’t have to be here, doing all this feeling while alone. He always hates himself after that even though his therapist says it’s normal. But he’s stuck here and has to do the feeling because when he tried to bury the feelings he nearly self-destructed. 

So Jack stands on the roof. Stands and feels. And Jack is tired. Tired of feeling. At least like this anyway. 

He knows she’d hate it, hate him walking off the ledge of the roof so he doesn’t. Not tonight. 

Instead he slips back under the guard rail and leans against it, lets his head fall back and the chill in the air bring him back down. 

It’s too quiet, he realizes. Maybe that’s why his awareness of how much he misses her is so high right now. He likes noise. Keeps his mind quiet. The Pitt is too quiet. Even the City as he stands on the roof. And so his mind is loud. 

It makes him uneasy. There’s always a reason for silence. For quiet. It always means something. Always brings something. Rarely, if ever, is it good.

Jack lets out a heavy sigh and then leaves the roof, heads back down to the Pitt hoping to find something to do. He’ll take anything at this point. “There you are,” Bridget greets him as he walks back in. “Sick nine-month old waiting for you,” she nods at your room, tells him your son’s name, a general overview. “Baby doesn’t seem too bad. Mom is stressed.” 

Jack nods, says a quick “thanks,” as starts walking towards your room. 

He looks in and sees you through the glass and stops. You are beautiful. Strikingly so. And Jack hasn’t even met you yet but feels like he’s known you forever, is drawn to you. It feels like he just understands you, or maybe more like he knows you’re going to understand him. It’s the strangest feeling. 

You start to glance up from looking at your son and Jack quickly resumes moving, knocking slightly on the door since you’ve already seen him and walking in, shutting the door behind him. “Hi, I’m Dr. Abbot,” he introduces himself. 

And god, now that he’s in your space, in here with your energy it’s even more intense. It’s like he’s supposed to know you, supposed to have met you. Like some kind of palpable fate in his brain. He briefly wonders if he’s hallucinating because this is not shit he really believes in, not normally. 

Quiet, Jack thinks. It always brings something. Or maybe someone. 

“I hear we’re not feeling well.” He looks down at your son who is asleep in your arms, head on your chest. “Mom, right?”

You nod, tell him your name. Nearly trip over it because this man is so handsome it is unfair. Then you feel bad the second you have that thought. But then you start to feel pulled to him. He’s just comforting and you struggle to understand how because you don’t know him. It feels like you do, but you don’t. You’re drawn to him. You feel like you actually need to know him. Like he and you are here for a reason. 

You immediately chastise yourself for having those thoughts. Your husband, you remind yourself, your husband. He’d have wanted you to move on, to grieve and then find someone. You don’t even have to assume that or just think it. You knew it. You knew it because of that fucking video he left you that you were never supposed to have to see. 

You bring yourself back into the present. 

“What’s been going on to bring you in?” Jack asks as he logs into the computer and pulls up your son’s chart. He glances over at you and catches a look in your eye. Jack thinks you feel it too. Whatever is between you and him, the connection. It feels like you know it’s there too. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

You tell him what’s been going on, symptoms your son is showing. Jack alternates between typing on the computer and looking at you. “I, um, I called the nurse hotline, you know, on the back of the insurance card before I came in, I really didn’t want to waste your time, I know you guys are so busy. She said that it’s probably okay to wait to get in with the pediatrician, but that if I was concerned I could go to the emergency room and I really tried to wait, I did, but I just, I don’t know. I felt like he sounded more wheezy.” You shrug at him, eyes round and showing how distressed you are, a hint of glass at them that suggests you’re close to tears. “It’s RSV season, you know? I mean I know you know. And god, I don’t want to be like, doctor WebMD or whatever, I trust you and your expertise, it’s just why I came in, they tell you about it so much at all the appointments and I, I don’t want anything to happen to him. But if you think this is too much you can just say and-”

“It’s not too much,” Jack cuts you off, nodding gently. “I promise. Better to be safe than sorry especially if you feel like he’s been a little more wheezy.” You nod at Jack who keeps looking at you intently. It makes you clear your throat and look away. But when he doesn’t say anything after a second you look back up at him. “You did the right thing,” he tells you when he catches your eye contact again. “Can I?” He gestures to your son. 

“Oh! Yes, yes of course! Here, let me get out of bed and lay him down.” You give a breathy laugh that reveals how out of sorts you are. You’re clearly thrumming with nervous energy, frenetic and flustered.

“No, it’s okay. You can stay, I’ll take him and get him on the end of the bed if that’s okay?” He holds his hands out to take your son. 

“Of course, yeah, whatever is easiest for you and best for him!” You gently pull your son from you and he starts to wake and fuss. “I’m sorry, he hates not being held right now and he hates being held by anyone but me it seems like sometimes, so he might not…” you trail your sentence off when Jack takes your son and he settles against Jack as they walk to the end of the bed. “Settle.” You sit up and cross your legs to give Jack more room. “I guess he likes you,” you laugh softly. 

“Good taste in people already,” Jack quips absentmindedly as he lays your son down. You give a soft laugh and the corners of his lips pull up. You get his humor. He likes that. Not everyone does especially when he executes it so stoically sometimes. There really is a draw there. 

Your son starts to fuss again and Jack can see you stiffen a little and start to look like you’re about to apologize. “It’s alright, little guy, I’ll have you back to mom soon.” He keeps a hand gently on your son’s tiny stomach and chest while putting his stethoscope on with one hand and rubbing the chest piece on the side of his scrub top for a few seconds to warm it up before putting it to your son’s skin. “I know, I’m sorry,” he murmurs in between listens, gently pulling your son up into a sitting position to listen to the back of his chest. “I’m the worst, I know, you can tell me all about it, won’t be the first or the last.” 

You sit there watching the whole interaction stunned. You don’t know why, you just never expected to get a doctor who would be so good with your son, with you. There’s something about him. Something you could never hope to articulate. You’re just drawn to him, he feels like some sort of kindred spirit which you tell yourself is crazy because you’ve known the man all of four minutes. 

Jack takes his stethoscope out and finishes his exam. “You have his clothes?” He glances up at you as you ask. 

“Hm?” You lean in a little towards him. Before he can repeat himself the words process. “Oh, yes!” You grab them from beside you. You’d taken them off earlier with Bridget so she and eventually the doctor could examine your son. 

“Thanks.” Jack grabs them from you and gets your son dressed again. 

“No, thank you. You… You didn’t have to do that.” The smile you give him almost reads embarrassed. 

“Least I could do for upsetting him so much by laying him down.” Jack picks your son up and brings him the few steps back up to you as you stretch your legs out again. Your son has already started to settle in his arms again. 

“So,” Jack reaches over for the rolling stool in the room and uses the pressure of his fingertips to slide it over to him before sitting down on it and rolling up to be closer to the midpoint of the bed so you can talk. “You’re right, he’s a little wheezy. Nothing terrible, but it’s there. His fever is still pretty low grade and I saw he’s about due for some acetaminophen, so we can recheck after we give him some more in a bit. Is RSV a possibility? Yes. So is a common cold. So is influenza A or B, so is Covid.” Jack can see you getting more panicky. 

“I…” You shake your head and look at Jack. “This is my fault.” Jack furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head a little. “I, I’m a single mom. It’s just him and I and I have to send him to daycare so that I can work and I don’t have any family around to help and I can’t afford a nanny, daycare is expensive as it is and I don’t want to have to send him to day care, even though I know that’s a normal thing and lots of parents do it and are good parents, are great parents, it doesn’t define how good of a parent you are, but I just think in this case, it’s me. I let him get sick. I exposed him. And I never wanted that, I really didn’t I just don’t have other options and it’s so hard and I spent months researching and touring locations to try and find the best one I could afford, but at the end of the day it’s still a cesspool of germs and I don’t know. I know that it’s mom guilt and daycare guilt and I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do and you know, nothing can happen to him.” You hold your son a little closer to you. You know if something happened to him you’d be gone within minutes. “Nothing can happen to him,” you repeat, a murmur. 

There’s a small silence and then you look up. “Oh my god,” you look at Jack horrified. “I just dumped that all on you and said all of that out loud. You’re a doctor. A busy doctor in an emergency room, you so do not have time for this, and god, fuck, it’s not even your job to listen anyway. I am so, so sorry.” You fight back tears because you are not doing this, you are not losing it here in an emergency room with your son in your arms. Because if one tear falls all of them will. 

Jack can see how you’re trembling. He noticed you were a little when he came in the room, noticed how chapped your lips were. 

“Hey, it’s all good.” Jack’s voice is soft and he tries to catch your eye to reassure you more but doesn’t force you when you avoid it. “I have time, you picked a good night, okay? And I know that nothing I can say will help with the guilt and I know you know but this stuff happens. They get sick. You did what you’re supposed to do, brought him in, called the hotline, monitored him closely.” You close your eyes for a second and take in a few breaths. He can tell you need to move on and not dwell here or something will open up that you can’t close and there is nobody who understands that better than Jack. “I don’t think anything is going to happen to him. I’m going to give you some choices, okay?” 

You finally look back up at him and nod, give him an apologetic smile. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

Jack nods. “First option is we give him some acetaminophen here and keep you guys here for a couple hours to monitor him and see how he does. That’s the least intensive option. Second option is the most intensive option. We test for RSV, rhinovirus, influenza A and B, Covid. That would be a swab test, one for all. We draw some blood and run a few tests just to check on everything. And then we do a chest x-ray to see if anything’s going on. Third option is a middleground. We start with the swab test. If it comes back positive for one we discuss more options. If it comes back negative then maybe we decide to do bloodwork. Choice is yours. None of them are wrong.”

You swallow hard. Your mind races as you try to decide. What if you make the wrong choice and something happens? 

“What would you do if he was yours?” You ask Jack, voice so, so small, so scared. Jack barely knows you but his heart aches for you. It’s like he understands you somehow even though he’s not a parent, has no reason to feel such a pull or connection to you. 

“Uh, wow, I… I don’t know,” Jack stutters a little because the question throws him so much. 

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, you don’t have to answer. I thought maybe you and your wife had kids and maybe that’s inappropriate too, god.” You cringe at yourself. But yeah. You’d noticed the wedding ring when he took your son from you. 

“No, no, it’s not inappropriate and we… I,” Jack looks almost pained. It’s familiar, the expression he wears. You feel like you know it well even if you can’t place it in the moment. “No kids,” he finally settles on, “I don’t have any kids. And I can’t say I’ve thought about… this, what I would do before.” He brings a hand up to his head and runs it through his hair before crossing his arms over his chest for a second before moving them back down to rest on his legs. “It’s hard,” he shrugs, and gives you an apologetic look. “The doctor in me who knows all of the possibilities says option two. But the doctor in me also knows that’s probably a bit overkill and that realistically option one is fine, and that option three is the best, that middleground.” He looks away from you and down at your son, studies your little boy whose small hand clings to your shirt. “I can’t say I’ve ever really tried to access the… paternal side of me,” Jack clears his throat, “not in a long time anyway. But I think I’d have to go option two, even though it’s overkill and involves a needle stick. I’d want the reassurance and to see the numbers and images.” 

You nod. “Yeah,” you say quietly and look down at your son. “Yeah, I think that’s what I want to do. I just needed, I don’t know. Not permission but… something.” You look back up at Jack and your eyes glaze over a bit. Something he recognizes, something he’s been told happens to him when he talks about his wife. His head tilts slightly at the thought. “Input.” You finally whisper. “I needed input.” 

Jack watches your bottom lip tremble and you bite it to stop it from doing so. 

Because you don’t have input. Your input is in the ground. Six feet in the ground. You never really got to have any input. Not from the one person whose input mattered most. 

And you don’t miss how you feel this connection to Jack and now he’s your input. Guilt and sorrow and grief and some vague flicker of anticipation slam into you. Anticipation is a new feeling, you haven’t had it since you gave birth. Even the way you phrased the question. Not what would he do with his child or if it was his kid here what would he do. No, you’d asked what would he do if your son was his.

You have to stop thinking about it.

Jack leans back a little and runs his palms down his thighs. “Okay, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll go ahead and put in the orders for the tests and acetaminophen. You can go to x-ray with him and wait behind the door, the rest we’ll do in here. I can swab,” he says with a small smile as he grabs one of the testing kits they have out of the cabinet in the room. He quickly types an order into the computer.“But I’m going to have one of our nurses come and grab some blood. I’d do it but nobody wants that. They’re the best sticks in the place, I promise.” He gives you a small but reassuring smile. 

You can’t remember the last time you genuinely felt reassured by anyone’s smile. That’s a lie. You can. It was the last time your husband ever smiled at you. The thought makes the smile you give him in return falter a bit. Jack wonders if he did something. Said the wrong thing. 

Your son fusses a bit for the swab, but you’re able to help hold him still so that Jack can get it done as quickly as possible. He settles back easy enough. Bridget walks in with some supplies while Jack continues typing. 

Jack was right, Bridget is a fantastic stick and the needle is so small your son makes just a little whimper before resting on you again. You feel bad when you have to wake him a bit to give him the tylenol. His small hands rub at his eyes and he tries to move his head away but you coax him to it so easily, so naturally, Jack thinks to himself. “Thanks Bridget,” he says quietly as she walks out. 

“Alright,” Jack says through an exhaled breath as he finishes on the computer. “I’m gonna be honest with you,” he starts as he grabs some hand sanitizer, “I’m more worried about you, mom, than I am about the baby.” He turns to look at you as he sits back down on the stool, tilts his head at you. 

You blink at him, like what he said is still processing. “Me?” Jack nods. “I’m fine, I feel fine. I’m just maybe a bit tired because, you know, sick kid but… I’m fine.” 

Jack pushes his bottom lip out a little and pulls down, nods just a little. He doesn’t believe you. You know he doesn’t. “When’s the last time you ate?” 

You look at him again for a moment and for a minute Jack thinks he’s gone too far, overstepped, has been imagining everything he’s felt since he saw you. “Um,” you finally say. He realizes you’ve been trying to think when it was, not that he upset you or anything. “I, I don’t know, probably I had something for lunch, I’m sure.” 

“You’re shaking.” Jack points out. You furrow your brows, unsure if he’s right and if he is how he could possibly know that. “Hold out a hand.” You do as he asks and sure enough, you can’t keep it still. “When’s the last time you drank some water?” He gives you a look as he says it and tilts his head at you. “Your lips are chapped. It’s been a bit, I’d guess. You’re dehydrated.”

You look away from him, can’t decide if you’re uncomfortable with his scrutiny or if you kind of like it. It feels wrong to like it. 

“Listen, I’m not trying to be a dick, okay?” He goes to continue speaking and stops, what he just said hitting him. “I probably shouldn’t have said dick in front of a patient, so I apologize for that,” you laugh at that and shake your head telling him not to. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be doing this by yourself. But you have to take care of yourself for him, and again, I know you know that,” he holds his hands up, “I just wanted to say because I’m sure it’s easy to lose sight of, especially when he’s sick.”

You nod and let yourself look back at him. “Yeah,” you nod. “It is.” 

“So, game plan for you is to get some food and water in your system. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, wow,” you laugh a little. “Dr. Abbot, that is-”

“Jack,” he interrupts you to tell you, “call me Jack.”

“Uh, okay. Well, Jack, that is very kind of you but I’ll be okay, and I can grab something once we get home. I will grab something.” You try to give him a reassuring smile. ��Promise.” 

Jack shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “No, you’re going to be here too long for that to be a deal. Between the x-ray and blood test results and monitoring him. Food and water or I’m going to create a chart for you and give you an IV.” He shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like it’s something he would do for any patient. 

You both know he wouldn’t. 

In part because having this much time is a rarity, beyond a rarity even. In part because any patient isn’t you.

You open your mouth to speak a couple of times and then close it again. “Okay,” you whisper. 

“Great,” Jack smiles at you. “What do you like to eat?”

You look at Jack and you look so overwhelmed he starts to feel bad. “Jack, I, honestly?” you laugh, “I have no fucking idea. Like none. I don’t remember, I don’t have the ability to even pick.” You’re still laughing because it’s so fucking ridiculous. A simple question. And yet you can’t answer it. 

There’s a sorrow to your laugh that resonates with Jack. It sounds familiar. Sounds like his laugh sometimes. 

“Alright, well,” Jack laughs a little with you, keeps it light, “I’d say I can work with that but I think it’s really more like I’m gonna have to work with that.” 

You shake your head and cringe at yourself. “You must think I’m a disaster. God, I’m sure I look like one.” 

Jack presses his lips together and squints a little, shakes his head. “I don’t think either, nor is either true.” 

Jack leans back and it stretches his shirt against his chest, pulls it tauter. The outline of two familiar pieces of metal and rubber silencers becomes visible, just for a second. You’d been feeling a little better. Now you’re about to be sick. About to lose it. 

Your smile falls, and Jack furrows his brows, goes to ask if you’re okay. 

“Do you have dog tags in your pocket?” You glance down at his chest pocket. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah I do.” If Jack had stopped right there you would have been fine. You would have been able to breathe through it, shut yourself down emotionally, and kept it all in. But he doesn’t. And you’re exhausted and your baby is sick and your husband is dead. 

Jack pulls them out of his pocket and flashes them at you. Quickly, but long enough.

Jack knows something is wrong based on the look on your face and the way you stare at his dog tags and then his chest pocket when they’re back away. You start shaking your head, squeeze your eyes closed. “Hey,” Jack starts softly. 

You shake your head faster, try to say something but all that comes out is a soundless sob as you devolve into tears. Quiet ones because your son is asleep in your arms but big wracking ones nonetheless.

It clicks into place. The draw to you. Feeling like he understood you and you him. Recognizing the way your eyes glazed over just slightly. The familiar sorrow to your laugh. 

You’re a widow too. 

And if Jack was a betting man he’d put a whole lot of money on your husband being deployed when you lost him. 

Jack’s up quickly, grabbing the box of tissues and setting them on the bed near you while reaching for your son wordlessly, only a nod and gentle motion of his hands to offer. You’re torn between whether having your son out of your arms will help or hurt, but you know it’s not fair to him and that eventually he’ll wake up because of your sobs, no matter how quiet you are. 

Jack takes him from you and sits back down in one of the chairs this time, pulling it over to be closer to the bed and kicking the stool out of the way. Your son stays asleep as Jack settles him on his chest. He feels a bit cooler too, Jack notes.

“I’m so, sorry,” you choke out quietly between sobs, “you can give him back and go, this is, this is not your problem to deal with.” Jack doesn’t reply, just nudges the tissues closer to you. 

And so you keep crying. And Jack keeps holding your son. 

Eventually you cry yourself out and are so numb you’re left with just shame and embarrassment for doing this here, in front of Jack and your son. 

As the sniffles stop, you try to look at Jack but are too embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat. “I’ll take him back and you can go.”

Jack stands up and hands you your son back. A wave of relief and calm washes over you at having his familiar weight back in your arms and on your chest. But there’s a pang of sadness too, you really thought Jack might stay. You don’t know why you care.

But Jack surprises you, sits back down and pulls his phone out for a second, sends off a couple of messages. He turns his attention back to you. “I’m gonna stay for a bit. The uh,” he struggles to find a word that won’t jinx everything, “patient census,” he makes a face when he says it like he can’t believe he just said those words, “is low tonight. I have time.” He lets out a long breath through his nose. “And you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head slowly as he speaks.

You give him a slight smile at patient census and the look he pulls, a little nod and he doesn’t push for more. He gives you time. 

But after a while he puts it out there so you know that you can. “You wanna talk about it?”

You look at him and see understanding, feel like you’re really being seen for the first time since your husband died and you don’t know why Jack is the one. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. Shrug at him with a watery smile. “I don’t know how to.” 

Jack nods slowly. Pauses for a moment and takes in a big breath he lets out, a little shaky. A shaky you feel like you recognize. “My wife died five years ago, so when I say I know what you mean, I promise I really do.” 

You shut your eyes and grimace as it all falls into place. The connection you felt with him. The pull. Why he makes you feel seen. 

“God I am so sorry, when I asked earlier, about kids and if you and your wife had any, I just thought with the ring, god I of all people should know better than that.” You shake your head at yourself. 

“You had no way of knowing,” Jack shakes his head. He looks down at his ring. Then to your ring finger which is empty. That deep set confliction and need to explain starts to rise. “I still wear it because… I think… It’s-”

“Hey,” you say softly. “You don’t have to explain. Not to anyone, and certainly not to me.”

Jack nods. You sit in the quiet for a few minutes. 

“I would probably still have mine on, but,” you sigh, “I guess it requires more backstory.” You pause to collect yourself. “Long story short is he was in the army. Scheduled to be deployed. Really short one. He was done after it too. Would have been out.” You take in another shaky breath. “We’d been trying for a baby for a while. I kept miscarrying. Little under two weeks before he was leaving I found out I was five weeks pregnant. And this one felt different. I had morning sickness. There was so much cautious optimism and he hated that he had to leave but he was supposed to be back in time for birth as long as everything went as planned.” You shrug. “He died when I was ten weeks pregnant.” 

Jack closes his eyes at that. His heart aches for you in the way only someone whose heart has been through that same loss can. 

“Yeah, pretty fucking sick of the universe. The one time I keep the pregnancy I lose the husband.” You wipe at your eyes with the tissue in your hand. “Anyway, late pregnancy my hands swelled up. Rings didn’t fit. I had to take them off. And once I had him and knew they would fit again I couldn’t bring myself to slide them back on. He was supposed to be the one to do that, you know?” Jack nods. He gets it. “So I think that’s probably the only reason I’m not still wearing mine.” 

“It’s not been five years though,” Jack points out. 

“There’s no timeline on when to be ready and take them off. I’m the newbie to the widow game here, but even I know that.” You give him a lopsided smile and Jack lets out a little laugh. 

“No timeline to any of it.” Jack offers. You raise your brows and lower them, nod as to wordlessly say true. 

You’re interrupted by Bridget bringing in some water and food for you. It’s obvious something has happened between the two of you and that you’ve been crying. “There’s an incoming,” she says quietly to Jack. “ETA four. We need you.” He nods. 

Bridget steps out and Jack stands up, puts the chair back and looks back at you, rolls his eyes. “Patient census comment coming back to bite me in the ass. Shoulda known better.” 

You let out a small laugh. “I thought it was very Scottish Play of you.” Jack smiles at you. “I’m sorry it didn’t work.” He walks over to the door and puts his hand on the door handle, pauses, thinking.

Jack turns back to look at you. “What’s done cannot be undone,” he says with a little smirk. 

You laugh almost properly at that. It makes you feel, maybe not totally happy, but okay. It’s been a while since you’ve felt either. 

“Oh wow, okay, well go get ‘em Lady Macbeth.” Jack laughs softly, more of just a smile with some air breathed out of his nose as he shakes his head a little at you. 

He doesn’t say to eat and drink the water and that he’ll be back to check on you. He doesn’t need to. You know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks pass. Your son recovers without incident. You can’t stop thinking about Jack. Jack can’t stop thinking about you. He has to talk himself out of looking up your info in your son’s chart and going to stop by and make sure your son recovered okay. 

You get sick. Really sick. You finally get your son down for a nap and stare at the piece of paper Jack had given you as you left. 

“Here,” Jack hands you a slip of paper with his name and number written on it. “If you ever need anything, call me, okay? If you need help fixing something at home or someone to watch the baby for an hour so you can grab a shower, or for however long it takes you to get your hair done, or whatever. Don’t hesitate to call.” Jack swallows. He doesn’t know how this part is going to go. “Or, you know… just call me.” 

You look up at him wide-eyed. “Oh, wow,” you laugh nervously, “wow Jack, I am so flattered, truly. But I just,” you look away from him, suddenly somehow even more shy, like the man hasn’t seen you sobbing and snotty and is still interested in you. “I’m not ready. I don’t know when-”

“That’s okay,” Jack nods, “I just wanted to put it out there. But still. I want you to call if you need something, okay? I respect your answer and so if you call I’m not going to expect anything or badger you about it or try and force it on you. I just want to help.” He looks to the side for a moment and then back at you. “One vet helping an active.” 

You feel so bad about it, are so conflicted. But you could really, really use some help. So you text him, tell him it’s you. 

You - Are you at work? 

J - No. 

J - Everything okay? 

You - Did you just get off work? 

J - No, string of off days. 

You chew your lip as you pull up his contact and stare at the number. You just tap randomly at your phone and let the universe decide. If it calls him then it calls him, if it doesn’t then it wasn’t meant to be. 

It calls him. 

“Hey,” he picks up on the first ring, sounds concerned, “you okay? Baby okay?”

You clear your throat and he can already hear it, is already standing up to throw on some real clothes and grab supplies. “Baby’s great.” He cringes at how bad you sound. If you feel as bad as you sound he’s genuinely astounded by how you’re taking care of a now ten-month old while being so sick. “Me, not so much. You said to call and I… I didn’t want to and I know this is so unfair, but I don’t have anyone else and I could just really really use an hour to get a shower and tidy a few things up.”

You need more than an hour to shower and tidy up, you need to sleep for as long as you can, Jack thinks to himself. “Text me your address.” 

There’s a beat of silence. “You sure?” You ask him, give him an out. 

“Positive. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Within the hour.” 

“Okay.” It’s so quiet he almost misses it. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah.” You hang up and do so. 

Jack stops by the hospital before he comes over, grabs a couple bags of saline, a couple of banana bags, and a few IV kits, tosses them in his backpack. Tells a raised eyebrows and confused Robby to tell Gloria to bill him for it and he’ll bill the hospital for the use of his supplies and tech during Pitt Fest before walking out. 

Then he stops by a grocery store, picks up some food and over the counter meds and then he’s on his way to you. 

The knock on your door startles you even though you know it’s just Jack. You open it and his eyebrows raise as he takes you in. You look like death warmed up. Maybe not quite that bad but Jack’s judgment of that is skewed because it’s you and he doesn’t like seeing you sick he has decided. 

“Hi,” you whisper as he walks in. “He’s down in his room, if you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on the monitor while I shower and then I’d really love to just tidy up a bit.” You move your hand to reference your living room and kitchen, both visible with the open floor plan. “It’s a mess. I’m sorry about that too, it’s normally not this bad.” 

Jack takes the space in. It’s not even that bad. It’s very sick single mom with a baby. Not dirty, just cluttered. He notes the sparse decoration, wonders if you moved after your husband died. “It’s really not that bad,” he tells you softly and takes the baby monitor from you. “Come here.” 

He steps towards you and you freeze, not sure of what to do. He just raises his hand and puts the back of it to your forehead. Jack flashes you a concerned look. “You’re burning up. Easily 102.”

You try to laugh it off but it just triggers a coughing fit. “I’m fine, it’s okay-”

“No,” Jack says firmly. “It’s really not.” He walks over to your couch and sets his bag down, slides the baby monitor into the pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a forehead thermometer and nods at the couch, asking you to sit down. 

You hesitate for a second, feel like this is too much and he’s doing too much and you should say he can leave, that he should go. But instead you go and sit on the couch. 

Jack scans your forehead and frowns when he looks at it. “102.8.” His eyes flick to yours and he can see you going to say something, and he knows it’ll be something like you’re fine or it’ll come down. “Look,” he turns the thermometer around so you can see the reading. “The light is red. There’s a frowning face. So please don’t say it’s okay and you’re okay.” His words are firm but compassionate and he isn’t condescending at all. 

“Well, once you leave if he’s still asleep, I’ll try to grab some rest.” You give him a weak smile. “Promise.” 

“Oh no,” Jack shakes his head. “No way. If I wasn’t a doctor and didn’t have supplies with me, you’d be going to the ED.” He starts looking through his bag. 

“Jack, this is really nice of you but unnecessary.” His eyes snap back to yours when he hears his name come off your tongue. He likes it. Too much. You said no, that you weren’t ready. But Jack can’t help how he feels, only on how he acts on those feelings. 

He ignores your protests. “Plan of care is to have you shower if you’d like. Cool, please. And then I’m going to give you some meds, get an IV in you and a banana bag going and you’re going to go sleep.”

“I, I really think just a shower and some tidying will help me feel much better.” Another half hearted protest. It feels good to have someone want to take care of you. To have a man want to take care of you. To have Jack want to take care of you. Those are all feelings you haven’t felt in a while, and they’re from Jack Abbot. And a piece of you hates yourself for that, especially when your eyes wander to the folded American flag displayed on a shelf. 

Jack tracks your eyes to it. “I’m not trying to overstep,” he starts to explain, “just, you’re a lot sicker than you think.”

“No, no, I know that, and you’re not, I’m just not used to it.” You try to find the word but it’s hard. “The attention, I guess. Or maybe the help. Pregnancy and labor and birth and coming home with a newborn while recovering were all alone, so it’s just… strange.” 

Jack shuts his eyes and lets out a breath. His heart hurts because he knows what that kind of alone feels like. He knows how hard it can be to survive and live with. And he’s never had to experience alone everything that you have. He hates that you were alone. He’s even more in awe of you, honestly, that you were able to. There’s a sense of pride too, one he knows he has no business having. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I really don’t-”

“I know that, Jack, I promise and you’re not, I’m just.” You shake your head and look away for a second. “A mess,” you laugh softly, manage to not trigger a coughing fit. 

Jack shakes his head a little. “You’re sick.” 

You shrug, take in as deep a breath as you can. “Okay,” you nod. He knows you’re acquiescing in his treatment plan. 

“Good.” Jack pulls his stethoscope out of his bag. “You mind if I listen to your lungs before you shower? Just to have a before and try to get a read on what it might be.” 

You nod at him. Jack places his stethoscope on your chest, is careful to hold it so that his hand doesn’t come into contact with you because he knows he already expressed interest and that you’re not ready and the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s using this as some weird chance to touch you or make you uncomfortable. “Deep breath.” 

Jack walks you through all the deep breaths he needs, frowning to himself a bit and not pressuring you when the deep breaths trigger your cough and he has to wait a minute to continue. The first time it happens his other hand automatically raises to go and rub your back but he catches it in time.

You don’t acknowledge it, don’t want to draw attention to it and in part don’t know how to react to it but you appreciate it more than he’ll ever know. He’s a gentleman. It’s nice and you really try to let yourself have that and let it feel nice without berating yourself over it feeling nice. But something feeling nice is so foreign and somehow feels so wrong. Like nothing should ever feel nice again because your husband isn’t here. 

“Yeah, those are junky,” he mutters as he puts his stethoscope back in his bag. “Wish I had brought a breathing treatment for you.” He looks like he’s thinking about how he could get one here. He pulls his focus back. “Shower?” 

You nod, stand up and start walking towards your room. “Hey Jack?” Jack looks up at you with raised eyebrows, body tensing just slightly like he’s ready to run towards you. “Thank you. And um, make yourself at home and help yourself to anything. I don’t know how much there is, but what’s there is yours.” You give a little nod and turn and walk off before he can say anything. 

Once he hears the shower running Jack takes a better look at the place. He finds it strange how certain parts feel like you but the overall place doesn’t in a way. It feels like someone scared to settle in, scared to make this space their own. It feels like his first apartment after his wife died did for a long time. 

He starts to tidy up, it’s really nothing major. He puts toys in the little toy bin you have, places the baby books on the floor on the bottom storage space of the table. He picks up the baby blankets and onesies laying around that he’s guessing need washed, sets them in a pile on a counter. He does the same kind of stuff in the kitchen, just picks up, wipes down. Again, nothing is dirty. It’s lived in. It’s a sick single mom with a baby who sets down an empty water bottle or paper plate and forgets to throw it away. He loads the dishwasher with the bottles and few plates and utensils in the sink. He’s not sure if what’s in there is clean or dirty but it’s fine, if it’s clean it can just get washed again. He waits to start it though, makes a note to do so later once you’re out of the shower and the hot water has had time to build back up just in case your water heater isn’t great.  

You let yourself stand under the water for longer than you probably should. You try to keep it cool like Jack said, but at some point right before you get out you let it get really, hot, just need to feel it, feel a little sterilized almost. You think about how Jack is here and doing all of this for you and what would your husband think and does this make you a bad wife. You try to get yourself to believe that your husband would be happy you’re getting help, would be happy Jack is a veteran and that you’re not a bad wife because your husband told you he wanted you to move on and find someone and it’s not like it happened yesterday. It’s been over a year. 

Once you’re out you slip on some modest pajamas, deal with your hair and put some lotion on your face, brush your teeth. You feel a little better, only because you feel clean, but still. 

Jack gives you some time once he hears the shower turn off. After a bit he knocks on your door and clears his throat. “Hey, um, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to start the IV out here in the living room or in your room.” 

Your chest clenches for a moment. You hadn’t even really thought about what it would mean for him to start it in here, just kind of assumed he’d come in and do it. But it means there would be another man in your bedroom. A man who is not your husband. 

He gives you a moment to decide because he knows the magnitude of the question he asked. 

You’re at war with yourself, but you know it’ll be better to have him do it here and have him figure out a way to get the bag to hang. “Um, you can do it in here, I guess. Unless you’d prefer to do it out there.” 

“Wherever is best for you.” There’s a pause as Jack waits for you to come over and open the door. You’re so zoned out sitting on the edge of your bed you don’t even realize. “Should I come in?” He finally asks gently. 

“Oh! Oh yes!” The way you breathe in at surprise and almost startle at having your zoned out thoughts interrupted makes you start coughing, so Jack slowly opens the door, trying to give you time to change your mind, walks in and over to you with his supplies just as slowly. 

He sets some stuff out next to you. “Shower help?” He cringes internally the moment he says it, hopes it doesn’t make it seem like he was thinking about you in the shower. 

“Yeah. Feeling clean has helped I think.” You watch as he gets everything ready. He has big hands, long and thick fingers that should make working with small pieces of medical equipment a bit difficult but they’re so dexterous and he has so much control over them that it’s not. Once you catch yourself daydreaming about his hands you look away, shame and guilt washing over you. 

“Take these, please,” Jack says softly, handing you a few pills and holding an open bottle of water. You nod and do as he asks. “Good gi-” He stops before he can finish, some pink flooding his cheeks. It’s adorable, you think. He’s adorable and he’s trying so hard to respect you and just be here as a friend helping you out. You also think about the reaction you know you’d have had if he finished the sentence. More shame and guilt. 

“How do you sleep?” Jack asks as he finishes setting the supplies for an IV up and kneels in front of you. You furrow your brows at him. “So I can put the IV in a good spot!” He rushes to explain. “Like if you sleep on your side I’ll put it on the top arm.” 

“Oh.” You think about it and tell him. 

“Hand please.” He points to the correct one and you offer him it. “Hands hurt more but it’ll be the best for sleeping. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me doing it.” He pulls a pair of gloves on. They fit nice and tight. Once he gets a tourniquet in a slip knot nice and tight around your arm he has you make a fist. 

You shake your head at him as you watch those long and dexterous fingers run over and feel the back of your hand a veins beneath your skin. Satisfied he found a good one he opens the alcohol swab and wipes the back of your hand, lets it dry for ten or so seconds while he grabs the needle introducer. He feels for the vein again and looks up at you. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You nod at him. 

He’s quick with it. You like the expression of intense focus he gets as he does it. “Okay,” he draws the word out a little, slips off the tourniquet. “Needle is out,” he places a tegaderm dressing over it, “and we’re good.” He looks up at you. “You okay?”

“Barley felt it,” you murmur. 

Jack gives a little laugh. “It’s okay, you can be honest. My pride can take it.” You just give him a look. “I’m gonna flush it. Some burning and maybe a weird taste.” He doesn’t explain much, knows you almost certainly had one when you gave birth. 

He does and then stands up, looks around near the head of your bed. “I think I still have a really old coat rack in the spare room,” you volunteer, knowing he’s looking for a way to hang the bag. 

“That would be perfect,” he nods at you. 

“Second door on the left when you walk out.”

Jack steps out. He already knew that through process of elimination but he doesn’t tell you that. He went to the bathroom while you were in the shower, placing his ear by each door to figure out which room was the nursery. Left one room to be the spare room. 

He brings it in and gets it set up. You offer him a hanger to place the bag on and he smiles at you. You give him a little one back. 

Jack puts on a different pair of gloves and sanitizes everything before spiking the bag and priming the line. He hooks it up to your IV and sets the drip rate, keeps it fast enough to get what you need into you but slow enough so that you hopefully won’t have to wake up to go to the bathroom for a while because he knows you’ll likely fight going back to sleep. 

“You need something to help you sleep?” He asks, a touch of concern in his tone. 

“I think I’ll manage.” You give him another weak smile. 

“Figured,” he nods. He grabs everything off the bed making sure to keep track of where the used needle is and then walks to your door. “Rest well.” He nods at you again and then steps out, closes the door behind him quietly. 

You let yourself settle into bed, feel your heart slam against your chest with every beat as emotions whirl through you. Guilt, for having some kind of feelings towards Jack, for asking Jack to do this, for not being there with your son, shame, grief, embarrassment, anger at yourself for quite literally everything, and the faintest glimmers of hope, happiness, contentedness and a kind of longing which are all new and in turn fill you with fear. 

You’re right though, you do manage to fall asleep. And fast. There are a few times you think you hear your son crying but it stops quickly so you don’t fully wake up. Another few times where you swear you hear someone in the room with you and them whisper “it’s just me, go back to sleep,” when they notice you stirring. If they’re real you let yourself listen to them and drift back asleep. 

Jack is surprised at how long you sleep. He thought for sure with all the fluids he has been giving you that you’d wake up to go to the bathroom, but that must be how tired you are. He lets you sleep. You need it. And for whatever reason he really, really cares about you and doesn’t like seeing you sick. It worries him, if he’s honest with himself. Seeing you sick. He worries about you. 

When you do wake up it is because you have to pee. You turn the lamp on to get there and close your eyes and flinch away from it until they adjust more. It starts to come back. The IV. Jack. Jack watching your son. You grab the bag of saline and go to the bathroom before walking out of your room. You have to stop at the doorway because it’s so fucking bright, let your eyes adjust. 

It makes you realize how fucked up your sense of time is. You have no idea how long you were out and you hope you hadn’t been keeping Jack a prisoner in your place for too long. 

When you walk into the living room Jack is on the floor with your son, some soft blocks knocked over the floor, your son on his back and cooing up at Jack, giggling like babies do at Jack every time Jack leans down over him and tickles his belly with one of Jack’s large hands and makes a funny noise at him. There’s a dirty diaper on the floor next to Jack, empty bottle on the table. 

“You slept well, didn’t you little man?” Jack sits him up and keeps a hand on him, your son pretty good at sitting up by himself but still getting the full hang of it. Small hands reach out for Jack, trying to pull him close. “Oh yeah, and now you’ve had a bottle and have even more energy to burn, huh?” Your son giggles again as Jack takes him into his lap as he straightens his legs and rests your son’s feet on one of his thighs so that he can bounce as Jack supports him to keep him standing. 

It’s the cutest scene. It’s so adorable your heart aches. It’s all you ever wanted for your son. And that’s why your heart shatters at the same time. Because your son doesn’t have it. Not normally. Your son doesn’t have a father. You don’t have a husband, the person you should be doing this with. This scene is a total one-off, a byproduct of you being sick and needing help. You appreciate Jack and all he’s done and how he’s being with your son but that’s supposed to be your husband. 

That’s supposed to be your fucking husband on the floor with your son and it’s not. 

It’s Jack. 

It’s Jack and you don’t hate it. 

Quite the opposite. You like the sight. Would like to see it again. Would like to see Jack again. And that makes you feel a little sick and a lot guilty. But you don’t stop liking it or wanting to see it and Jack again. You tell yourself you don’t though, that you don’t want to see it again and don’t want to see Jack again. You lie to yourself. The turmoil threatens to tear you in two. 

You wipe a few tears away silently and then sniffle to announce your presence. You can get away with it because you’re sick. “Hey,” you say softly, make a face and try to clear your throat. “I’m sorry I feel like I probably slept longer than I meant to.” Clearing your throat didn’t help. You still sound awful, your voice totally going. 

Your son squeals when he sees you, arms reaching for you already. You smile down at him. “Hi baby,” you greet him in the best voice you can manage, grab him from Jack. “How’s my boy?” You tickle his tummy because you don’t want to kiss him and get him sick and it makes him squeal again and babble at you. 

Jack stands up and you notice there’s something off about the way he does, just slightly. You wonder if he suffered a back or hip injury while serving. He clamps the saline bag all the way and removes it from your IV so that you’re free. “What time is it? I hope I haven’t kept you here too long.” 

Jack looks at his watch. “9:17.”

You blink at him for a moment. The sun filtering in through the curtains assures you he means in the morning. You make a face like you’re trying to pour through past memories. “What time did I make you come over? It must have been so early, I, I didn’t even realize I’m so sorry.” 

Jack smiles as he steps around you and goes to set the bag on the counter, throw the diaper away and the bottle in the sink. He turns back around and leans against the counter, holds onto the edge of it with his hands. He already knows you’re going to freak out. 

“First, you didn’t make me come over yesterday. Pretty hard for anyone to make me do something anymore. Second, I got here sometime around 4.” Your confusion deepens. “P.m. Yesterday.” 

“Yesterday?” You look at him, stricken. “Oh my god, Jack, I am so so sorry! You should have woken me! I genuinely never meant to steal this much time from you and keep you hostage here, I am so sorry, I-”

“Hey, hey,” he steps closer to you but doesn’t touch you. “It’s okay. You have nothing to be apologizing for. I know I could have woken you and I never felt hostage here. I was okay with it.” He gives you a reassuring smile. 

You shake your head at him a little. “God, where did you even sleep? That awful couch? I know how bad it is, I’m so- I feel terrible.” 

“Don’t,” Jack laughs softly. “I promise you I have slept on much, much worse. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t…” You trail off because you haven’t really stopped to evaluate that. “Better I guess. Still sick but not as bad, at all.” 

“Good.” He takes another step closer and holds his hand up, gestures to your forehead. “Can I?”

You nod, still lost in thought and shocked about how you could have slept that long. “Good, fever’s still down. It broke during the night.” Your son reaches for Jack’s hand, one of his small hands wrapping around one of Jack’s large fingers. Jack lets him keep it and play with it, but steps back a little. “Shit, I promise I only went in there to change your bag and take your temperature with the thermometer.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. You hadn’t even thought to care about him coming into your room when you were asleep, hadn’t even realized that could be a line he might have crossed. “I just feel so bad.”   

“Please try not to.”

“I have to, you have to let me at least make you breakfast or something! You just watched my baby overnight for me.” You nod. “Yeah, let me make you breakfast, please.” 

“I’d like that,” Jack nods slowly, face pulling into a knowing look with a little smile because you’re adorable and going to be upset. “But I don’t think that’s going to work,” he shakes his head and then gently nods at the refrigerator. You know there must be nothing in it.

“Fuck,” you sigh. You turn your head and rest your cheek on the top of your son’s head as you try and think. He continues to coo and babble away, at Jack now, whose finger he still holds on tight to. Jack makes a little face of surprise and noise at him and your son laughs.

“Let me order something then, yeah?” You offer. You watch as Jack argues with himself in his head. Part of him wants to say no, he should get it for you, for no real reason other than he wants to take care of you, and part of him wants to say yes because he knows it’ll make you feel better. “Please.”

“Alright,” he finally nods.

“Okay, great!” You start looking around for your phone and find it plugged in and charging. It hits you then. How clean and tidy the place is. “Oh my god,” you mumble. 

“What?” The alarm in his voice is clear. 

“You cleaned.” You look around more. A laundry basket of folded onesies and blankets and other baby clothes on the loveseat. “You did laundry.” 

The realization sends you over some ledge you didn’t realize you were standing on. Your heart races. Your feelings are too conflicted. There’s too much turmoil. You know this is normal, have read about it, spoken to other widows who described what it was like to start dating again, start falling for someone. And you’re really starting to personally get it now. 

You don’t know what to do with it. And you know you’re not ready for it. But you can’t lie about it to yourself anymore and pretend that Jack doesn’t give you new feelings that you haven’t had in a long time and that you don’t want to let yourself feel them or at least try. Can’t lie to yourself that you don’t want to try and be ready for it. 

“I’m sorry if that was too much,” Jack says quietly, unsure of what exactly your reaction means. While he’s also a widow it’s a bit harder for him to put himself in your shoes. He didn’t have a baby to need help with while trying to grieve and find a new normal. 

“No, it’s not that.” Tears hit your eyes and you close them, hate that they’re happening. It’s the emotional overwhelm you tell yourself. The having someone do something nice for you. The having to accept help. The new feelings. So many new feelings from one man. 

But you know yourself well enough to know that it’s also the wanting, despite how much you try to bury it and lie to yourself. The wanting to let yourself give in to those new feelings. Wanting to let yourself enjoy the new feelings. Enjoy Jack. 

“Let me,” you hear Jack whisper, feel his hands get closer to you to grab your son who laughs in excitement at the prospect of being in Jack’s arms. 

You keep your eyes closed and then turn before you open them, walk over to get a tissue and dab at them. “It wasn’t too much.” You’re speaking to Jack but keep your back to him because you’re not sure how you’ll react if you turn around and look at him. “It’s just really hard. Everything is so fucking hard. Every second of every day is an emotion, every second requires feeling.” Jack understands that one too well. “And you get used to that. The emotions, the feelings become familiar. Because they’re constant. You know what they are, what to expect. You know the feelings. They hurt so, so bad, but eventually you realize that not having them would hurt more. Would be scarier. Because they’re your normal, they fill that void in your heart. What would you be without them almost controlling your life? And then one day a new emotion, a new feeling creeps in. And it’s paralyzing. You think it hurts worse in some way than not having the familiar feelings would, but you don’t know because you never get a second to not fucking feel. And it’s because it’s new and you don’t know what to do with this new feeling and it throws everything off and is another change and because it almost always feels so wrong, to let yourself feel something new, especially if it’s a good emotion. And I know you know this Jack, I know you know exactly how I feel, exactly what it’s like. I know you get me. I know you understand. And I like that. I think part of me needs that. To move on or whatever you want to call it.”

Jack’s heart rate ticks up. This is not at all where he thought this conversation was headed. 

You take in a deep breath and squeeze the tissue in your hand before turning to look at the unfairly attractive and smart and funny and caring and playful and stoic and dry humored and witty and kind doctor holding your son. 

“You make me feel so many new things Jack. So many things I never thought I’d feel again. So many things I swore to myself I would never feel again.” You swallow hard. “And I don’t know what to do with them. They paralyze me. Not for long because they send me straight back to guilt and shame and grief, right back to those familiar feelings. I don’t know how to have these new feelings you give me anymore. At some point I lost that. So I don’t know how to handle it. How to handle you.”

Jack’s numb. Frozen. He’s not sure what this means. He understands you because the first time he started dating and was attracted to someone he’d gone through the same thing. It was hard at first. To not feel guilty. To not revert back to the emotions you know well. He’s not sure what to say. He goes to say that he’s sorry and didn’t mean to cause you distress and will go but you start talking again. 

“But fuck Jack, I want to. I didn’t want to admit it to myself because it feels so wrong and because it’s scary and hard and makes me feel like a terrible wife sometimes. But I do. I want to know how to handle you and all the new feelings you give me, Jack.” His eyebrows raise slowly, his focus staying on you as your son starts to mouth on his finger getting saliva all over it, not phased in the slightest. “It’s just going to take time. I don’t know how much time. And I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask to wait for some unknown period of time.” 

“You’re not asking,” Jack says quickly before you can get out another sentence. “You’re not asking me to. I want to. But only if you want me to. You said that you weren’t ready, and I respect that. And you have to know that I didn’t come over here to help, or do laundry or tidy up because I was trying to pressure you or make you feel something or make you be ready or for anything other than just to help as a kind-of friend. You have to promise me that you know that.” 

“I do,” you tell him softly. “I promise.” You give a small laugh and little smile. “I think that’s actually the part that made me realize I couldn’t keep lying to myself that you didn’t give me new feelings and that I didn’t want to feel them. That I know you came here just because you wanted to help, help me, my son and my husband. And I know you did the laundry and tidied and stayed overnight to watch my baby so I could sleep just because you’re kind, and you saw it needed done so you did it, which is so army of you by the way, and not because you wanted it to mean something or make me feel bad for not being ready or pressure me or any other possible reason. You just… wanted to help.”

Jack smiles at that. Really, fully smiles and fuck if it isn’t one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. You smile back at him. It’s clear that nothing more needs to be said. You both know that you’ll work on being ready and learn how to feel and how to handle it all and Jack will wait. 

“I never said I was army.” He smirks at you. 

“Didn’t have to.” You give him a small smile. Even after this you’re still so shy. 

You go and grab your phone. “What does that mean?” He asks, tracking you with his eyes. 

“What would you like to eat?” You ignore him. You know already that it’ll wind him up. 

“No, what does that mean? I have a tell?” You shrug at him. He narrows his eyes at you playfully.

“No,” you say as you hand him your phone so he can pick something and order and take your son from him. “It means you have a recognizable backpack.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time goes on. You get better. You and Jack grow closer. You keep going to therapy, keep working on processing and figuring out how to handle the new feelings, how to stop feeling so guilty. Jack waits. Patiently. Never an ounce of pressure on you. He’s always so respectful, goes to great lengths to be so, immediately apologizes if he oversteps. And he does a couple of times because he’s human and nobody is perfect. But it’s okay.  

Jack’s injury comes out over breakfast that morning when he apologizes for having his shoes on in the house. You hadn’t even really noticed, too sick for it to register. He doesn’t tell you much about it which you respect and he’s grateful when you don’t push for more. That’s something he guesses he’s not ready for with you. Isn’t sure why though. He brings it up with his therapist. 

Jack is over more and more often. At first it’s to check on you and make sure you’re getting better because your cough lingers. And then somewhere along the lines it just became a thing. Normal. Normal for you to see him more days than not during the week. Normal for him to put your son down for the night. Normal for him to sleep in the spare room. Normal for him to cook for you and help feed your son. Normal for him to keep spare bottles of toiletries in a bin under the guest bathroom sink. Normal for black scrubs that didn’t get god knows what on them to be washed with onesies and blankets. 

Normal for him to bring five epi pens, multiple vials of epi, syringes with needles, an infant intubation kit and a cric kit to your house when you decide to introduce peanuts to your son. 

That one had gotten him an attempted, and skillfully dodged, third degree interrogation from Dana and Robby. 

You don’t touch. Not at all, save when your fingers brush if you hand each other something or when you take your son from him or vice versa. You’ll sit on the couch and Jack on the loveseat. There’s no flirting. It’s not that the attraction and draw to each other has faded, because it hasn’t. Not at all. It’s that you both know you need time and you both respect that. Jack perhaps more so than yourself, because you get mad at yourself about it sometimes. 

You do talk. A lot. About anything and everything because talking to each other is easy. It’s not work. Neither of you have to think of things to talk about or try and come up with something to keep the conversation going. It just does. And when it dies down the lull is comfortable. Then someone thinks of something or sees something on TV and it’s back. 

Eventually Jack is able to tell you a bit more about his injury, how it happened. The aftermath. He’s able to take his prosthetic off in front of you and leave a pair of crutches at your place for when he doesn’t want to put it back on. 

You talk about your spouses. Your therapist suggested it, thought it may help, to acknowledge both of your spouses and know about them. You approach Jack about it and tell him you don’t want an answer right away, you want him to really think about it and if he’s ready for that and willing to do that, and that he doesn’t have to say yes and that if he says no nothing will change. Both of you are aware it’s in a sense one of the most intimate things you’ll ever do with each other. 

Jack says yes though. And means it. He’s okay with it, comfortable with it. So one night after you get your son down you take the baby monitor, a bottle of wine and sit out on your apartment balcony and talk about them. You tell each other about them, what they were like, things they liked and disliked, funny stories. Jack tells you how he proposed and you tell him how your husband proposed. You talk about your weddings. 

You share photos you have on your phone, of your spouses alone and of the two of you together. You tell Jack his wife was beautiful, seems like an amazing woman who kept him on his toes and mean it. Jack tells you that your husband was handsome and knew how lucky he was to have you, that it’s obvious by the way he looks at you in the photos. You smile wistfully and get misty eyed together. But it’s nice, getting to know the other’s spouse, more about your past lives. It tells you a lot about each other too, as much as it does about your spouses.

You talk about how you each learned your spouse had died. There’s proper tears during that part, from both of you. It’s one time you do touch, and it’s brief, and you’re the one to initiate it, tentatively taking Jack’s hand and giving it a little squeeze when he gets a bit choked up. He squeezes back to let you know he’s okay with it. When you get choked up talking about your husband he holds his hand out over the armrest of his chair, just a little, just enough for you to know it’s there. You move yours over and let him squeeze your hand. 

You talk about moving after your spouses died. Jack tells you he just couldn’t do it. He needed space that was his own, where he couldn’t picture her in it and so he couldn’t expect to walk around a corner and see her. You tell Jack that you had to keep the curtain of the living room window closed all the time because the last time you looked out the window you saw that car pull up and two uniformed officers step out of the car, and just knew. And it made the place so dark it was bad for you so you sold the house and found this place. You admit that you haven’t been able to bring yourself to really unpack completely or decorate but aren’t sure why. The nursery being the only exception. Jack tells you that it actually reminds him a lot of how his apartment he moved into right after his wife died looked for a long time because he was scared to settle in and make a space without her because that wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to have to do that. 

As more weeks pass you start asking Jack to help you hang things. At first it sends you flying backwards in your healing because you just asked another man to help you decorate your apartment. Jack doesn’t say anything for the couple of days you’re off with him because he knows and he knows you’ll work through it. He gives you the space you need without you asking for it. You work through it with your therapist and apologize to Jack who tells you not to, that healing isn’t linear, trust him, he knows. 

Jack watches your son for you sometimes during a string of off days so that he can spend a bit less time at daycare, especially if another kid is sick. Your son loves Jack, is enamored with him. And Jack is just as enamored with him. Is so incredibly good with him. It’s a place where you struggle a lot and that you and you and your therapist discuss frequently, how to cope with seeing Jack in that kind of fatherly role and acknowledge all the feelings it stirs up for you. 

One Monday, a holiday that you were supposed to have off, something comes up and you need to go into the office, but daycare is closed. You hesitate calling Jack because you feel bad asking him to do this, especially knowing he’ll be getting off shift and you’re asking him to stay awake even longer. You don’t even know if he’ll be able to, he might not get off on time, or he might have plans. But you call him much quicker and more decisively than you did when you were sick. 

Jack’s talking to Robby when he feels his phone vibrate. He thinks it’s weird to be getting called at 6:45 a.m. so he pulls it out to check. His heart drops when he sees it’s you and he walks away from Robby mid sentence. 

“Hey,” he answers on the second ring, “what’s up? Everyone okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine. It’s just, work needs me to come in, not for too long, just a couple of hours, but I can’t bring him and daycare is closed with the holiday and I know this is such a huge ask because you’re getting off shift and will be so tired and I don’t even know if you’re getting off on time-” 

“Woah, woah,” Jack stops you. “Take a breath.” He can hear you do as he says. “I can watch him, okay? I’ll make sure I get off on time. And I often stay late so being up a few hours after my shift before he goes down is not going to be anything new.” 

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” You let out a breath. “You still have to let me cook or something for you.” 

“You don’t have to repay me.” 

“No I know, but still.” 

“Can I be honest with you?” Jack asks. 

“Of course.” Your heart races because you have no idea what he’s about to say. 

“You can buy me takeout. But you can’t cook.” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

You make a noise of offence. “I can’t believe you just said that! I’m offended. Genuinely offended.” But Jack can hear the smile you’re trying to hide in your voice and it just makes him smile harder to himself. 

“That I said it or that it’s true?” He’s smirking now. 

You huff and then there’s a pause. “That it’s true,” you admit begrudgingly, making Jack laugh. 

Robby has blindly swatted at Dana’s arm to get her to pay attention so that he doesn’t have to stop watching and so now both of them are staring and watching Jack go from extreme concern to laughing and smiling. It’s almost disconcerting. 

“I’m going to have to drop him off at the hospital to make it on time. Is that okay?” You’ve gotten quiet again. 

“Yeah.” Jack sounds a little unsure but not because of you, because of the two he can feel staring at him. “I’ll need a key. And I’ll give it back, I promise.” 

“Oh! Yes. You will need that, okay I’ll have to find the spare. And yeah, that’s fine, whatever is fine, I know you’re not going to use it randomly.” You breathe a laugh. “You’ll be okay with holding him on the subway? I wasn’t going to lug around the stroller, if that’s okay.” 

“We will be more than okay,” Jack assures you. 

“Okay.” You let out another breath in that way you do when you’re stressed but coming down Jack has learned. “Thank you Jack.” 

“Not a problem, you know that.” 

“Yeah, but still.”

“Text me when you’re here and come wait by the doors, I’ll open them for you, okay?” You’re thankful he doesn’t dwell. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.” Jack hangs up and puts his phone in his pocket then turns and walks back over to Robby and Dana. 

“Everything okay?” Dana asks. 

Jack looks between the both of them. “Yeah. I’m leaving on time though.” 

“Ohhh,” Robby laughs. “Are you now? You just decided?” 

“Yeah. Did you notice how it wasn’t a question Michael?” Jack deadpans. “Just a statement of fact. I know these are big distinctions for you to make before you’ve had enough coffee.” 

“Deflection,” Robby hums, leaning forward a bit and still smiling like he can’t believe any of this even when he doesn’t know what this really is. 

Jack rolls his eyes at him and walks to a different computer to finish charting. Dana and Robby share a look but don’t push him. For now. 

Jack’s phone vibrates fifteen minutes later. You, saying you’re here. He walks over to the doors and pushes the button to open them, walks in with you a few steps, your son already happily squealing and babbling at Jack, reaching for him. Jack makes a surprised happy face at your son like he’s shocked to see him and takes him from you. 

Back at the desk Robby slowly removes his glasses as he watches the scene unfold, Dana peering over the top of hers like she does, everyone else slowly freezing once they follow Dana and Robby’s eyes to you and Jack.

“God, thank you so much Jack, I’m so so sorry.” You look stressed, frenetic and full of nervous energy that makes you even more unsure of yourself, not unlike the last time he saw you in here. He finds it adorable, so endearing.

“It’s okay. Truly. You’re going to have to believe me one day.” Jack gives you a small but reassuring smile. 

“No I know,” you breathe out. “I just… This is your work, I know. And I know you’re going to get a million questions based on the entire desk of people staring at us.” You shake your head a little as you try to find words. “And I know it’s hard to explain.” 

“Good job I don’t feel the need to explain it to any of them, then.” 

You laugh a little at that. “Yeah. Um, here.” You slide the backpack baby bag you have off and help put it on one of Jack’s shoulders. “There’s a key in the front pocket. He went down late last night and then I had to get him up early to get him ready to come here. Seeing you is the first time he’s smiled all morning. So he should probably nap earlier for you if I’m not home before then, and probably be pretty chill until he does.” 

“He’s always chill,” Jack smirks at you. “You know that.” 

“Let me make myself feel better, please,” you huff at him, clearly still flooded with nervous energy. 

“Alright,” he nods for you to continue but doesn’t lose his smirk. 

“He’s had a bottle, but that’s it, so he might be hungry when you get home, if he’s a little fussy.” You reach out and run your fingers through his soft baby fine hair to push it out of his eyes. “God he needs a haircut doesn’t he?” 

“Probably,” Jack nods. “But I’m sure-”

“That the thought of my baby needing his first haircut makes me want to sob because he’s growing up way too fast?” 

“Something like that,” he nods. 

“Yeah.” You run your hands through it and sweep it out of his eyes one last time, trying to calm some of the nervous energy that’s making you feel like you’re shaking. “Alright, I should go.” 

You lean up and kiss Jack on the cheek. By the time your feet return to the floor you’ve realized what you just did. 

Jack freezes, stunned, but not upset, not by any means.

“Oh my god,” you gasp quietly, holding your hands up in front of you to the side. “I just did that. Right here.” You close your hands into fists decisively, incredulous at yourself. “Okay, well,” you titter, “I’ve gotta go now, so thank you again so much, and let me know you guys make it home okay, and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.” You nod at a still stunned Jack, who then finally starts to relax a bit and lets a smile start to pull up. “Great. Okay.” You lean in and kiss your son’s face. “Bye baby, be good for Jack okay?” You give your son another kiss and pull back, immediately back to your nervous and incredulous demeanor. You pat Jack on the side of the arm holding your son and then cringe at the action. “Right,” you let out a breathy nervous laugh. “Bye.” You spin and walk to the doors and hit the button to be let out.

“Bye,” Jack calls back, still sounding a bit dazed. He takes a second and then looks down at your son who’s looking around the busy room and then looks up at him and smiles, grabs at his face. Jack laughs. “Yeah, bud,” Jack sighs, leans down and kisses the top of his head quickly, doesn’t even really realize he’s doing it, “you’re about to be the talk of the Pitt. We both are. And your mom.” He takes a deep breath in and looks down at your son and makes eye contact. “God help us all.” 

Jack turns and starts walking to the breakroom. He’d go to the lockers but he already knows what’s about to happen. “Not a word,” he says to Dana and Robby as he walks by. 

“Oh be for fuckin’ real Jack,” Dana laughs under her breath, already starting to follow him. 

“No, he’s right Dana, not a word,” Robby says as he starts to follow, “so, so many words.” 

Bridget walks up to the desk and looks at everyone quizzically. 

“A woman just came and dropped off a baby to Jack,” Princess tells her. 

After the words process a large smirk grows on Bridget’s face. “Oh did she now?” 

Jack sighs to himself as Robby and Dana follow him into the breakroom. He doesn’t want to do this but it’s borderline inescapable now and he’d rather it be here than out by the lockers. He slides the baby bag onto a chair. 

“First,” Dana says as she walks in, “let me see him!” She walks over holding her arms out to take your son from Jack. He leans into Jack for a couple of seconds, unsure, but then lets Dana take him. “Hello cutie! What’s your name?” Robby walks over to her and says a soft hi, gives your son his finger to hold onto while Robby looks him over, smiling at him as your son babbles some.

Jack tells her his name. “God, Jack, he is gorgeous. Look at that hair and those eyes!” 

She turns back to the baby in her arms. “Yeah, you’re handsome and you know it, don’t you? I bet you use it to get out of trouble sometimes, huh?” She winks at him. It makes him smile and giggle a little, as he drops Robby’s finger and brings a hand up to chew on. “Gettin’ more teeth in, are we?” Dana smiles at Jack as she rocks your son a little. 

“Yeah, I think so, he’s been real chewy and drooly the last two days,” Jack nods. 

“He yours?” Robby asks.

Jack’s head snaps to him. “What the fuck man?”

“Oh come on Jack, a random woman just showed up, gave you a baby, kissed your cheek and left. It’s not a far stretch. Nor is it a bad thing.” Dana looks at your son. “No it isn’t at all,” she says in a bit of a baby voice.

“And you’ve been different the last couple of months. I think you’ve only been up on the roof twice and even then you didn’t look like you were seriously considering jumping.” Robby points out.

“Oh my god,” Jack mutters under his breath. “No, he’s not mine.”

They both accept that. But it doesn’t quell their curiosity in the slightest. There’s a longer pause though, your son really the only one making noise as all three adults watch him. 

“Who is she?” Robby finally asks, looking up at Jack.

“Does it matter?” Jack shoots back quickly.

“I mean…” Robby laughs a little incredulously, “yeah, a little.” 

“Why?”

“Oh come on, Jack,” Robby draws out as he takes your son from Dana. “You’re telling me if a woman showed up and handed me a baby and kissed my cheek before walking out you wouldn’t have questions and want to know who she is? Or feel like who she is doesn’t matter?”

“Of course I would want to know, but who she was wouldn’t matter and if you didn’t want to say anything yet to keep things private I would respect that.” Jack raises his eyebrows at Robby and gives him a pointed look. 

“Jack, it doesn’t matter who she is really, if she’s in your life we’d just like to know. We want to support you and see you happy. And you clearly know and spend time with the kid, enough for mom to feel comfortable leaving him with you and to know he’s been teething for the last couple of days. You spending time at her house?”

Jack doesn’t answer for a moment but then finally gives in. “Yeah.” Dana’s eyebrows raise in an invitation for more. “Yes, I spend time at her house. I help her out. I sleep in her guest room sometimes, watch him some days. So what?”

“So she matters,” Dana smirks at him a little. “She matters and she kissed your cheek so clearly there’s something.” Jack grows a little more serious and Dana and Robby both know she just hit some sort of nerve there. “Who is she? Please. Let us be happy for you.” 

Jack takes in a big breath and looks at them for a second before resting his hands on his hips, slightly cocking one and looking down at the ground like he’s about to admit something. “My therapist.” He says it deadly serious and just loudly enough for them to hear. 

He doesn’t need to look up to know the expressions they’re wearing, but he does anyway because Robby’s face of incredulity and concern is too funny to miss. “Really?” Dana asks. 

“No!” Jack emphasizes the word with his head and a little brow furrow as he moves from his position to pace a little. “Of fucking course not! But thank you for this little exposé into what you think of me.”

“Hey, that’s why I asked,” Dana puts her hands up in defense. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t,” Jack looks over at Robby, “but he sure the fuck could. And he knows my therapist is a man, we go to the same god damn one!”

“Well I didn’t know if you found a new one!” Robby says in his own defense. Jack rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna tell us? Anything? Or are we really wasting our time here?”

Jack stops pacing and sighs, looks at the baby boy in Robby’s arms. “It’s complicated,” he offers. 

“We deal with a lotta complicated here.” Dana reminds him. 

“Yeah well you’re not going to believe the truth,” he mutters. 

“Try us.” Robby looks at Jack with a little knowing smile and tilts his head before looking back down at your son and making faces at him to keep him entertained. 

Jack shakes his head a little and looks away as he tries to think about how to explain without giving away too much because he doesn’t want to totally destroy your privacy. “She’s a friend. Seriously. Just a friend who I help out because she’s a single mom with nobody in the area and she needs help sometimes. Her…” Jack debates on whether this reveals too much but it would explain to them why he’s so reticent to talk about you. “Her husband died while deployed. So, we have the widower widow thing in common and there was a kind of connection there, and yeah maybe it leads to more one day and maybe it doesn’t.” He shrugs at them. That’s all he’s going to say. 

There’s another moment of silence as everybody takes in what Jack just said, himself included.

“So this is what the five epi pens and vials of epi and infant intubation and cric kit were about. He’s who they were about.” Robby looks down at your son. “Yes. They were about you, weren’t they?”

“Oh, peanuts,” Dana nods, looking from your son to Jack, “you introduced peanuts after you brought it all home.” 

Jack just looks at the two of them and shakes his head. Some part of him wants to laugh at the way they went from pushing for information, to getting a little bit, to leaving it and not pushing for more and instead bringing up the supplies he took and fucking peanuts. He’s grateful for it. 

“Yeah, we did.” Robby and Dana’s eyes flash up at him and they both have little smirks. It hits him. “She did. She did, she introduced peanuts. To her son.” 

“With you there.” Robby’s smirk grows a little bit. “Ready to intubate.” 

“I think it’s very sweet,” Dana says, smiling at him. 

“I think we need to get home before his mom calls in a panic. I said I’d leave on time and text her when we’re home, so.” He walks over to Robby and opens his arms, your son all but launching himself at Jack, making all three laugh. 

“He’s certainly a big fan,” Robby smirks. 

“Of course he is, he has excellent taste already. Though he liked you, so we might have to have a chat when we get home about why our standards are falling.” He says it in his typical deadpan demeanor. 

“I was being nice and then you ruined it.” Robby throws a hand up at him. 

Jack picks up the baby bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I didn’t ruin it, I spoke the truth.”

“You’re so mean to me.” Robby looks over at Dana as they all move towards the door. “He’s so mean to me.” 

“I am not mean to you.” Jack replies, stepping out of the door. 

“A little bit,” Dana agrees with Robby. 

“Thank you!”

“But he’s a little bit mean to you too, so it all evens out.” 

Robby scoffs. “I’m not mean to him!” 

“Just like I’m not mean to you.” Jack walks towards the lockers with your son. Robby and Dana stop at the desk, giving looks to everyone to tell them to go back to work. 

Jack swings by his locker and grabs his backpack. He pins it against the lockers with one hip so he can open it enough to shove the baby bag in it and zip it back up. “Alright bud, you ready?” He glances down to check on your son. Your son gives a little smile and then lets his head fall against the front of Jack’s shoulder, almost like he’s shy. Jack has to laugh a little as he walks back by the desk. 

“We’re out,” he announces to everyone, finding the way they all glance up and try not to look shocked or stare funny. “Say bye!” He says to your son, picks his little hand up and waves it. Your son smiles for a second before turning his head away, shying away from the attention. 

Jack looks at Robby and Dana. “Thank you.” He doesn’t have to elaborate. They know what he’s thanking them for. 

The two make it home easily and without incident. Jack texts you to let you know. 

J - Made it home and are having breakfast. 

He includes a picture of your son in his highchair eating some pancakes Jack made for him. When you get it the photo makes your heart squeeze, your boys. 

The world stops for a second and you get a little dizzy when you realize what you just thought. Your boys. 

Jack is not your boy. He’s not yours in any capacity. And that thought is one you know you would have had about your husband and son. That panic comes back, the intense shame and guilt. You try to think back on all you and your therapist have talked about, try to convince yourself that it’s okay. That it’s okay to have that thought. 

That it’s okay to like the thought and even to want the thought. 

You’re able to handle it much better than you were before and you know that means something. That you’re closer to being ready.

Once you’re not so lightheaded from all the emotions you reply. 

You - Thank you.

It’s odd, Jack thinks as he reads it. Almost clipped. Three dots appear. 

You - I’m sorry about this morning and the cheek thing. I know we haven’t discussed anything like that and I don’t really know what happened for me there in the moment, so I’m sorry. And I hope you can forgive me. 

He’s quick to respond. 

J - You have nothing to apologize for, so there’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t mind it at all 

He smiles to himself a little, especially once three dots appear. But then they go away only to reappear a couple of seconds later to disappear again. Shit, he thinks to himself, was that wrong? Did it cross a line? Fuck, was it suggestive? 

He tries to think of what he can say to apologize and let you know that he really didn’t mean for it to be suggestive or pressuring or weird. But then a message from you. 

You - Well good. I didn’t either

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of nights later you sit on the couch next to Jack. It’s the first time you’ve sat next to each other like this. Jack was not the one to instigate it of course. 

You decided to watch a movie together. It’s not the first time you’ve done that. Not the first time you’ve made popcorn without asking if he wanted any. It’s the first time you don’t split it into two bowls, though. Instead you pour it all in one and come sit next to him on the couch. Not touching. But close enough to share the popcorn between you. 

He almost expects you to move once the bowl is empty and you set it on the table but you don’t. You just stay there, curled up in your blanket next to him as you watch, commenting to each other at times. He notices you comment less and less, are less responsive to his and are leaning closer and closer to him. 

He can see you falling asleep and when you blink back awake he points it out. “You wanna go to bed? We can finish later.” 

“No, no, I’m good.” You look at him and give him a smile so he knows you know how close you are to him. 

He nods and you keep watching. But twenty or so minutes later you slide a bit and your head rests against his tricep. 

Jack freezes. He doesn’t know what to do. Does he let you sleep? Does he wake you? Is it wrong if he doesn’t wake you? When he knows you might not be ready? But then the sleepiest, “s’okay,” comes from you like you knew what he was thinking. You’re out again so fast he wonders if he made it up. 

He knows you have trouble sleeping sometimes. Trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. So he’s hesitant to wake you from it when you’re getting it. You’d been so in and out of it with the movie he decides to just wait a bit, see if you wake up. 

But then Jack falls asleep on the couch with you resting on his arm. He wakes when he feels you stirring. “Shit,” you whisper, sit up and off him. “We fell asleep.” 

“Yeah,” he yawns. “I meant to wake you but must have fallen asleep before I could,” Jack says slowly as he wakes back up. “I wasn’t sure if you were okay with…”

“Oh.” You blink at him like the thought hadn’t occurred to you. “Yeah. No, yeah, it was okay, I’m okay. I, I hope you were. You definitely could have woken me if you weren’t!” 

Jack nods. “I know.”

You nod back, the magnitude of falling asleep on him hitting you even though you’re not sure it should really hold any particular magnitude. “Okay. Good.” You look around and check the monitor, chuckle a little and show it to Jack. He chuckles with you at the silly position your son is sleeping in. “Probably best to get to bed.” You give him a small smile. 

“Yeah, probably.” You stand up off the couch and toss the blanket onto it, grab the bowl and put it in the sink to deal with tomorrow. Jack stands too and stretches a little. “Are you going?” You ask, almost sound a little sad at the thought. You are a little sad at the thought. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he shakes his head. “I was just going to head to the spare, but I can if you’d prefer.”

“No! No.” You shake your head. “No, I was going to say it’s late and so you should stay and not try and get home at this hour. It’s not safe.” 

Jack gives you a little smirk and you have to look away. “After you,” Jack calls your attention back, sweeps his hand at the entry to the hallway leading to the rooms. “You want me to take him in the morning?” Jack asks as he follows you. You know he’s talking about the monitor. 

“Oh, no. You have to work tomorrow so you should sleep as much as you can.” You’ve learned his schedule. The reality of that hits you both at the same time. You clear your throat. “Good night, Jack.”

“Good night,” Jack replies, smiling to himself as he walks into your spare room. You know his schedule. Jack realizes he knows yours too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week or so later you ask Jack if he has a certain day off, as if you don’t already know that he does. And he knows you know. 

“Yeah,” he answers, looking up from the floor where he’s playing with your son. 

You nod. “Well, so.” You try to start but stumble. You’re nervous. Flustered in that way you get. Like both times you were at the hospital. “That’s his birthday,” you look at your son with a smile, “and I was wondering if you’d um, if you’d like to, you know, spend the day with us?”

Jack doesn’t realize he’s doing it but he stares at you for a few seconds. You just asked him to spend the day with you and your son on your son’s first birthday. 

He nods. “Yeah.” He nods a little faster. “I would love that. If you’re sure. I know it’s a special day and-”

“No, I’m sure. And I know he’ll love it.” You look at your son fondly and then back at Jack. The fondness in your eyes doesn’t go away. “He loves you.” 

Jack flushes a little at that and it makes you get butterflies. Jack Abbot is blushing in front of you. Doesn’t matter why or what you said. He’s blushing and you’re swooning like you’re a teenager. And, you realize, you don’t hate yourself or feel guilty about it. You just feel it.

“Well,” Jack laughs a little, looks down at your son and brushes some hair out of his face. You still haven’t brought yourself to get it cut but you really are going to have to here soon. “I lo-” Jack stops himself. You can see him trying to think of what to say instead. 

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, understandingly. “You can say it, Jack.” 

Jack nods and swallows. “I love him too,” he says just as softly as he looks back down at your son. 

When Jack finally builds up the courage to look at you he’s greeted by your smile. The one that really meets your eyes and makes them sparkle a bit. The one that he’s seen more and more recently. The one that gives him butterflies. 

Jack Abbot blushes again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you spend all day together. Your son is one, so the day is more for you than anything. 

You decide on the zoo. Your son loves animals, it’s a weekday so it’s not super busy, the weather is perfect. And you can take it at your own pace. 

Lots of pictures get taken. Of your son. Of you and your son. Of your son and Jack. Of you, your son and Jack. That one threw him a little when you first brought it up and asked a stranger to take a photo of the three of you. 

Jack is patient and would never pressure you and very deliberately does not ask where you’re at in healing or if you’re feeling like you’re closer to ready or anything of the sort. He lets you lead, lets you set the tone and the pace. He knows if and when you’re ready you’ll communicate that. 

You and Jack sit in the aquarium when your son needs a nap and falls asleep in his stroller. You talk about your upcoming weeks and Jack tells you stories of patients he’s had recently that he hasn’t had the chance to tell you about. 

“Have you… had to explain anything about him and I? At work.” 

Jack’s eyebrows lift slightly and he shakes his head. “No. I’m sure they’re all dying to know but like I said, I don’t feel the need to explain anything to them.” He shrugs. “Well, actually,” he lets out a little breath. “The day you came in I told Robby and Dana. Not a lot. Just that you’re a friend I’m helping out because you’re a single mom and don’t have anyone here.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “I told them that you lost your husband while he was deployed, so we had the widower widow connection. I’m sorry if that was too much.” 

You laugh a little and shake your head. Jack has talked to you enough about Dana and Robby to know that Robby is his best friend and effective brother and Dana is his second best friend and like the Pitt mom. “It’s not.” 

“Dana said he’s gorgeous.” Jack doesn’t know why all of this didn’t come out once you got home that day but he was asleep when you did and then life was just busy and moved on. And now you’re talking about it. “He actually liked Robby, so he and I had a little conversation when we got home about bringing his standards back up.” 

That makes you laugh, properly. Jack thinks he could get lost in the sound forever. Spend the rest of his life chasing it. He tells himself to get a grip. You’re just friends. Nothing more. 

“Well,” you smile at him before looking away and shrugging. “Maybe one day I can meet them. Judge for myself.” 

Jack pauses for a second only because he wasn’t expecting it. “Uh, I mean yeah. Of course. Dana will lose it if she gets to see him again.”

“He is the cutest and best if I do say so myself.” You smile down at your sleeping one year old. “God, I can’t believe it’s been a year.” It’s been over a year and a half now since your husband. “He’s so big,” you whisper. “He was so tiny, fit on my chest so nicely. And I love watching him grow up and see him do new things and learn and thrive, but damn it’s hard.” 

Jack gives you a little hum of empathy, not entirely sure what to say. He notices how big your son has gotten and he’s only been in your lives for three months. 

“Will you come with us when I get his hair cut finally?” 

Jack looks over at you, a little confused. “Yeah, course.” He presses his lips together and shakes his head once. “Any particular reason why?” 

“To be my shoulder to cry on.” You say it so simply, like it means nothing when you both know it means something. You both know you’re inviting him to another thing your husband and your son’s dad would probably go to with you. 

And Jack gets stuck on it a little. To be my, you had said, you want him to be your something, even if it’s just a shoulder to cry on right now. “I suppose I can manage that.”

You share a little laugh about it. “Thanks, Jack,” you murmur. 

“Any time.” 

Once your son wakes back up you finish walking around the zoo. Jack buys him too many toys at the gift shop, all the stuffed animals he so much as glances at, much to his delight. You make your way back home together in Jack’s truck. Jack’s truck that now has a carseat in it. 

But you don’t go inside, instead you decide to leave the stroller and walk around the City. You find a place to eat and it’s weird to think about. To all the people walking by and seeing the three of you, you probably look like a family. And even though you feel some guilt, especially on your son’s birthday, you don’t completely hate yourself or let that guilt consume you. You like the idea. A lot. So you let yourself feel it.

After dinner at dusk you decide to take your son to the park for some swinging before heading back and getting him to bed. He loves to swing. You take photos of him and Jack and Jack takes them of the two of you. 

You’re so involved with your son and swinging and making him laugh that you don’t notice Jack slip away for just a second. Your son yawns. “Aw,” you give him a little sad laugh. “Tired baby? You’ve had a big day.” He reaches up for you and you pull him out of the swing, hug him close to you and kiss his head. 

When you turn around Jack is back and standing where you assumed he would be but he’s holding a single rose. You stay where you’re at, almost frozen but not in a tense way. And Jack is just as nervous that this is crossing a line when he doesn’t mean for it to be.  

“Day’s about you as much as it’s about him,” he calls to you. He starts walking towards you and you meet him halfway. “You did all the work a year ago today, mom.” He offers you the rose. “We should acknowledge that.” 

You look at the rose and then back up at him again, a bit stunned still. It’s so incredibly sweet and kind. It’s so incredibly Jack. And you know for sure then. 

You take the rose from him and give him a sappy smile. “Thank you, Jack. For everything. The rose and today and the last three months.”

“Don’t mention it.” He gives you a small smile. 

“Accept the thanks.” You give him a pointed one in return. 

“Alright, alright.” Your son has started to fall asleep in your arms. “Want me to take him?” 

You nod. “Sure, yeah. You only need one arm to carry him still. I need two now.”  You bring the rose up to your nose and smell it, smile to yourself about it. Let you and the butterflies in your stomach swoon. 

The three of you start walking home, your son fully out on Jack’s shoulder within a couple minutes. You walk back in silence. It’s a comfortable silence, a comfortable quiet. And while quiet hasn’t been as foreboding to Jack since he’s met you sometimes it still is. Like now. 

This quiet, while comfortable, is thick. There’s something about it that feels anticipatory. Last time the quiet felt like this, made him feel like this, this uneasy, it brought Jack you. 

Something about that makes him even more uneasy. Because Jack knows there’s always a reason for quiet. It always means something. Always brings something. Rarely, if ever, is it good. And he got good last time and Jack doesn’t trust the world or lightning to strike twice. 

He worries this time the quiet will bring something else. Something worse, like it always does. 

But before he can completely spiral and become even more hypervigilant than he always is, Jack feels your fingers brush against his for a second before they disappear and then come back, your fingers playing with his like it’s nothing, and then, in the quiet as you walk back to your place, you lace your fingers together and you’re holding hands and you give him a little squeeze that tells him you mean it. That you’re ready.   

Quiet. It always means something. Always brings something. 

This time it meant you were working up the courage. Is bringing the start of something more than just friends. 

Lightning strikes twice. 

Jack stops walking when you squeeze his hand and you stop with him, looking up concerned and a bit panicked, ready to draw your hand back. 

“You ready for this?” Jack asks, genuine concern in his voice as his eyes dart around your face, looking for the slightest sign of hesitation. But you can see it there too, the excitement, the happiness. The hope. “And by this I mean this,” he squeezes your hand. “Nothing more. Not until you’re ready for more. Not until you tell me you’re ready for more.”  

You bite your lip as he talks because he’s so cute when he’s concerned and he’s such a good man, wanting to make sure you’re ready and know he doesn’t expect more. And the smile that’s slowly pulling up on his face as you look at him and nod is so adorable you could scream. “Yeah. I’m ready for this.” You squeeze his hand back. “And maybe a little more.” You pull on his hand and start walking again, lean into him a little. “But only with you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you made it this far thank you so much for reading and I hope it was okay and got fluffy and funny!!

You can find my Masterlist here for more Jack! Requests are open!

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[bcksbarnes]

flowers in hand

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: unfortunately for bucky barnes, he is head over heels in love with you, and when you want something, it doesn't take much convincing.

word count: 3.6K cw: 🔞 some suggestive content (minors do not interact)

a/n: based off of this request! lots and lots of fluff.

bucky barnes was an ex-brain washed assassin who had been broken down and beaten time and time again. he had seen horrors that would leave most people catatonic, he had done things that most people wouldn’t even dream of. this was not a man that wore his heart on his sleeve.

stoic. brooding. an absolute brute, to put it mildly.

but there was something that bucky never wanted anyone to know. a secret he’d take to his grave and would deny if ever asked about it. 

what was this secret? simple. 

bucky was head over heels in love with you.

he knew it the second the two of you met. when you stretched out your hand and told him your name, he felt his knees buckle. when you asked him for his? a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. he was nervous. a reaction bucky had never had before.

it sent him into a spiral for several days after the two of you met. weeks, actually, if he was being honest. 

everything after that had fallen into place pretty quickly. you had liked bucky as soon as you met him and before you knew it months had passed, the two of you quickly found yourself in a budding romance that needed nothing but water and sunlight to grow. 

the hardest part of learning to fall in love again was that he was so taken aback by how his body and brain responded to you, it was a bit jarring. it was like his entire brain had awoken a part of himself that had been dormant for years. one yearning for love.

it showed in the way you would get home from work and your favorite flowers would be waiting on the kitchen table, powder blue hydrangeas, with a handwritten note alongside it. bucky’s handwriting was a little scratchy and hard to make out, but you didn’t need to read it to know what it said:

thinking of you always. - bb

or when he took you on a joy ride on the back of his motorcycle, never wearing a helmet himself but making sure the straps were just right when he helped you get yours on. his hands would carefully click the buckle together, biting down on his bottom lip in concentration as he made sure it fit you perfectly.

he didn’t want you getting hurt, not on his watch.

that was it - his big secret. you had him wrapped around your finger. something so mundane and, frankly, obvious.

though you never went out of your way to use this knowledge to your advantage. bucky always came running at the sound of your voice.

“buck?” you called out one afternoon.

the sun was high in the sky, it was a beautiful day - maybe a little warmer than you liked, but the cool breeze offered some relief. 

you were sitting on the balcony reading a book in your favorite spot, overlooking the city that bucky had loved so much, and that you’ve learned to love with him. it was different from the one he lived in all those decades ago, the apartment he had lived in as a child was small, cramped - to look out the window was to face a family he never knew, living their own lives.

now, in this decade, the apartment was spacious, overwhelming, the view encompassing the bridge and the east river separating the two boroughs. 

a different life, a different time.

“yeah?” he called back, the door to the balcony slightly ajar so you could both hear each other.

“can you bring me my sunglasses?”

bucky chuckled to himself at such a simple request. he was working on fixing some issues in the kitchen, a leaky faucet to be exact - the one that kept dripping. bucky had a hard time falling asleep as it was, hearing the pitter patter in the middle of the night made him feel like he was going insane.

“hold on, honey.” 

he was currently laying on his back under the sink, his shirt was discarded somewhere next to him and his black mesh shorts rode a bit lower on his hips than he had purposely intended. 

it only took him a few turns of his wrench to tighten the compression ring around the pipe in hopes that it would stop the leaking. 

“that should be it.”

a few moments passed as he placed the wrench down next to him. he held his breath, but bucky, unfortunately, a second later felt another water droplet land on his forehead: unsuccessful.

“shit,” he mumbles to himself before gripping the side of the counter and pulling himself out from under the cabinet. 

bucky hated that this wasn’t working - honestly, he wanted to run to the store and grab some new pvc pipes and just fix the entire thing from scratch. but, your request ran through his head and he quickly pivoted his priorities as he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“where’d you put them?” he calls, trying to look in the usual spots before finally stumbling on them. “nevermind.”

you hear the door swing open, his footsteps alerting his presence but your attention stayed on the book in your lap, wanting to finish the page you were on.

“i couldn’t find them,” he says. 

when you finally finished the passage, you placed the bookmark in the between the pages, saving it for another time.

your head turned to look up at bucky, his metal arm glistening in the sun and your sunglasses sitting right on his face - that goofy smile of his plastered on his features as he waits for you to notice.

a loud chuckle passes your lips as you reach your hand out for them, shaking your head as he slides them off the bridge of his nose and into the palm of your hands. once you grab them from him, you put the glasses on, the world dimming a bit, but bucky still shines bright in front of you.

“thank you,” you say softly, tilting your head back to admire his half dressed physique. you whistle lowly, causing bucky to roll his eyes at you. “were you working on the sink? sorry, i didn’t even realize.”

“yeah,” he responds, taking a step closer. 

bucky gestures for you to move over and make room for him, groaning as he finally sits down. his arm rests on the back of the sectional while his fingers run through the hair on the back of your neck.

“i thought i’d be able to fix it by tightening it, but i think the pipe itself has a crack somewhere,” he huffs out, shaking his head. “i’ll have to go to the store later.”

you watch him carefully, your hand holding the book on your lap moving to rest on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you could see the concentration in his face, the way his brows furrowed until there was a crease between them. he hated unfinished projects.

“you’re not going to rest until it’s fixed, are you?” you ask, though it’s a question you already know the answer to.

“absolutely not,” he shakes his head. “why? have something in mind for us today?”

“i thought maybe we could go to the park later” you hummed, your fingers tracing shapes into his skin. you tilt your head back to look at him, both of your eyes meeting. “they’re doing a movie night. raiders of the lost ark, if i remember correctly.”

bucky’s other leg bounced anxiously at the thought, it’s not that he didn’t want to go with you - it’s that he really wanted to fix this stupid sink. 

he peaked over at his watch, it was nearly 5:30pm. the store would be closing soon, he’d have to find the right parts then fix the sink, and shower at some point before he’d be ready to go. he didn’t know if he had time to do both the movie and finish this project.

his eyes trail back over towards you and he was greeted with the most beautiful pair he’d ever seen. were you batting your eyelashes too?

“you play dirty,” bucky mumbles.

he brings his metal hand up to your face, squeezing your cheeks softly as he leans in to press a few soft, chaste kisses to your lips. he mumbles something about how unfair it is, but you’re so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips you don’t even care what he says.

bucky begins to stand from his seat, though he doesn’t remove himself from your lips, hunched over to make sure he stays closely connected to you. your hands now resting on his abdomen as if to keep him in place.

“i have to shower,” he hums against your lips. “and if the movie sucks i’m coming home and ripping the sink apart.”

“you did not just say that raiders of the lost ark is going to suck.” 

bucky chuckles as he trails his lips down your jaw to your neck, giving it a few kisses and a quick bite before he pulls back completely, that same love stricken look on his face.

“i did. i mean it too,” he teases, backing up until he gets to the door of the balcony. 

“you’re going to be very upset when you’re wrong, barnes,” you call out after him.

he gives you a quick wink before dipping back inside the apartment. 

you take one last look over the balcony, the cars that were passing over the bridge and the people walking on the streets below. all of them had their own little story. it makes you smile to yourself, thinking of this little life you had built with bucky.

it kept you both going.

finally standing, you stretched your arms over your head and grabbed your book before heading back inside the apartment. the cover made a soft thud as you set it down on the coffee table on your way over to the kitchen.

the sound of the shower trickling had your thoughts distracted, even as you began packing the tote bag. you tried to keep your focus on all the goods you wanted to bring and not your very naked boyfriend some 50 feet away from you behind one, probably not locked, door.

how easy it would be to slip in.

you shake your head and focus on the task at hand, packing the bag with: a blanket to sit on, two lime sparkling waters that bucky had picked up a few days ago, and a mix of snacks to enjoy. the perfect picnic.

right as you finished, you hear the door open and bucky step out of the bathroom, the warm steam filling your apartment almost immediately. he looks striking with the towel draped around his hips, his almost freshly cut short hair now wet and combed back.

“you didn’t join me,” he teases, making his way past you and into the bedroom.

“i want to make the movie,” you say back, a smirk on your features. you knew well enough that if you took a step in that shower, bucky would never let you leave.

the sound of shuffling comes from the other room as you can hear him looking through drawers and the closet for his clothes. your feet walk you into the bedroom right as he slips his boxers on, a smile on his features as he catches your gaze.

he didn’t want to go out to the park and watch a movie. he didn’t even care about that stupid leak under the sink that he could still hear and was driving him up a wall. 

no, he wanted to stay here with you and show you all the ways he loved and adored you. he wanted to worship you with everything he’s got. 

his hand reaches out for you and he intertwines your fingers together before he pulls you towards him. you happily oblige.

“you’re still thinking about that damn leak aren’t you?” you whisper, your voice filled with jest.

“every fucking second.”

the smile on his face is wide as he brings his hands up to your face and kisses your cheeks once, twice, three times, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips. in one fluid motion his hands are under your thighs and lifts you up, placing you on the dresser behind you.

he slots himself between your legs and watches you closely, your hands moving to grip his wrists.

“let’s stay here,” bucky pleads softly. “let’s never leave this apartment ever again.”

“i’d love to never have to do that, but you know that’s impossible.”

“hmm,” he hums. “not with that attitude, sweetheart.”

he manages to get his hands free from your wrists, sliding them down to your hips and pulling you forward until your legs wrap around his waist, your heels resting on the back of his thighs. 

“bucky,” you groan.

your head falls back softly against the wall, in the same motion bucky rests his head on your shoulder.

“wishful thinking, huh?” he asks, a sigh leaving his lips afterwards. 

it’s not that he hated the power that you had over him, it was that he didn’t know how you managed to affect him so much. you didn’t even put up a fight with him and he folded, all because you said his name.

he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before he untangled himself from you and moved to get dressed - a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt that was a little too tight around his muscles and a sweatshirt he knows you’re going to steal at some point. 

finally ready to go.

it only took a few minutes to get to the park. you’re greeted by a sea of people, most of whom have already laid out their lounge chairs or blankets. the sun hadn’t set yet, casting a warm glow as you two found a spot a little bit away from the rest of the crowd. more secluded, but you two would still be able to see and hear the movie just fine.

bucky helped set up the blanket, a long red gingham pattern one that he may have muttered a sarcastic comment about how cliche it was. you may have, lovingly, given him the finger in response. 

the movie started only a few minutes after you and bucky set up the snacks and drinks. both of you were laying on your sides, elbows planted on the blanket while hands kept your head off the ground. 

bucky was very into the movie, barely sneaking glances over at you like he normally did whenever. it captured his attention almost immediately. you watched as he popped a grape into his mouth, his tired eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he absentmindedly chewed. 

it was calming to see him in this environment. you knew that deep down he would never 100% be present, that he always kept one part of his brain active to scan for any potential threats. but seeing bucky in a state of, mostly, ease felt like finding a diamond in the rough. rare, but valuable.

halfway through the movie bucky moves to sit up, stretching his arms over his head before holding his hand out to you. he always seemed to be reaching for you. once your hand is in his, one swift motion is all it takes for him to pull you into his lap, nestling you between his legs, your back now resting against his chest. 

his hands move to run down your arm and he can feel the goosebumps rising against your skin.

“you’re cold,” he mumbles in your ear.

you want to protest that it’s just from his touch, but the words die in the back of your throat as soon as you feel him sit back from you. he pulls off his sweatshirt and hands it over, watching as you carefully slip on the oversized material. bucky wraps his arms around your torso once you’re settled, pulling you back as close as he can before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“much better.”

your heart flutters, as it seems it always does when he acts this way. 

cuddly. soft. in love.

bucky feels like his heart is bleeding out right through his shirt at this moment, you could tell him to do anything in front of this crowd of people and he would comply without hesitation. he didn’t even care.

maybe that was the thing that kept him going in this life. the little pieces of calm he can get when you are around. when the tides don’t feel as strong.

he didn’t want to think about it, he wanted to enjoy himself: your presence, and the movie.

it’s a little while later when the movie finally finished, you craned your head back to look up at him, a smirk on your lips. he was staring ahead at the now blank screen, jaw slightly dropped. 

“i thought you said the movie was going to suck,” you teased.”

“i didn’t know i was coming to see a cinematic masterpiece.” 

you let out a laugh, and then another one as bucky squeezes your sides as his response, falling back over his thigh as you wriggle to try and get away from his wandering, playful hans. 

god, he wished you weren’t in public right now.

“and here you wanted to stay at home to fix that stupid sink.”

“no, i wanted to stay home so i could –”

“bucky,” you cut him off before he can finish that thought, watching as a family walks past.

he lets out a scoff that sounds more like a laugh and pinches your side again as you start to stand up from his lap. bucky admires you from this angle, the way that you towered over him was so jarring compared to how small you normally were when he stood next to you.

“i was going to say so i could take care of you, but if you were worried i was going to say something more vulgar than you need to get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

“you’re so full of shit.”

bucky’s smile reaches his eyes this time as he throws his head back and lets out a laugh. you were so right and he loved being called out on it, because he loved how well you knew him.

he stands to help you pack the tote bag again, throwing it over his shoulder when it’s done. you grab his metal hand and intertwine your fingers together as you make your way back to the apartment. 

the city was dark now, only illuminated by street lamps and a few fluorescent signs. surprisingly the neighborhood was mostly empty, you and bucky seeming to take up most of the sidewalk and filling the silence with your chit chat about the movie.

bucky was blown away by the story, the action … well the whole thing. 

you were biting back your tongue to not say i told you so.

“you always get your way, you know that?” he says once you're in the lobby waiting for the elevator. “i don’t think i’m capable of saying no to you if i really tried.”

“that’s not true,” you respond.

though if you take a second to think about it, he’s probably right.

the elevator dings its arrival and dips slightly from the weight of the two of you as you step on. you press the button for your floor a few times before turning your attention back to bucky. he’s standing right next to you, his hand slipping out of yours to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. your head leans to rest against him, it always fits perfectly.

“it’s a little true,” he says with a shrug. “i’m not complaining.”

there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“i’ve never had anyone to care about. not in this way at least.”

“you cared about steve.”

“that’s different,” he sighs. “i made sure steve stayed alive. i didn’t dote over him. i look at you and i’d drop everything just to see that damn smile on your face.”

the blush developed on your cheeks at record speed, a smile accompanying it that was hard to hold back. sometimes bucky had a way with words that took your breath away. he could be deeply poetic. it made you wonder what he thought of in that brain of his. 

“there it is,” he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

the ding of the elevator snaps the moment back into reality, but that doesn’t deter bucky in the slightest. 

no, instead he follows you down the hall and into the apartment, waiting for the door to shut before he picks you up from behind and walks you to the bedroom to toss you on the bed - the sound of your giggles filling the air.

the second you hit the mattress, and he crawls on top of you, your hands grab his face bringing him down to kiss him feverishly. it’s rushed and messy, tongues sweeping across lips, teeth biting and pulling. 

you don’t need to tell him you need him for bucky to know it, he can read you like an open book. 

as he kisses down your jaw – his stubble scratching your soft skin, hands moving to slide your shirt up, ready to spend the night devouring you – all he can think about is how his love for you is the worst kept secret in the world. and not about the stupid leaky faucet.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Ok so Amity gets lots of its funding by hosting a summer camp every year. They host it by the lake in the woods and the local high schools are counselors and head of cabins.

The camp is like a 150 year tradition and it got very popular especially among the rich from around the country.

They kept it going, closing down for 3 summers because of the ghost attacks (the town could have the attacks and the camp running. It would be too dangerous)

They opened it the next year, but with a lot more liability paperwork and that stuff.

This is also the year where Damian Wayne gets sent to the camp.

Bruce went, Dick went, Jason went, Tim went and even Cass went for a year and now it was his turn.

Damian did not want to go. There are no phones allowed, so he won’t be able to communicate with his family. He went anyway. Danny is his head of cabin.

All the senior class members are liminal. With the weird traits and all that shit. They know Danny is phantom but they don’t really talk about it

Shenanigans:

- Danny noticing the faint liminal scent on Damian and kind takes him under his wing to hopefully have Damian feed off of his ecto and get healthier. Damian thinks his head of cabin just gets really attached really easily.

- Sam running the gardens and using her undergrowth powers. Damian think she’s related to Posion Ivy, but evidently does not care when he find out she a vegan and just as passionate about the environment and animals as he is

- Tucker teaches the campers a coding class. 30 fourteen year olds hacking into places they should not hack into. Surprisingly, under Tuckers guidance, they all manage to successfully hack into the Pentagon without detection. Damian glanced at Tucker’s screen and saw that he was not hacking along with them but hacking an organization called the GIW

-Val and Danny teach hand to hand combat and weapons. After the camper learn to use all the weapons, Val and Danny assign one o them (crossbow, knife, bow and arrow, laser gun). Damian is great at all of them, and they let him pick whichever weapon he wants.

- Damian offhandedly mentions that a katana is his preferably weapon. The next week, Danny’s younger sister comes back from her travels with a katana for him.

- dash and kwan run the camp wide games. They have capture the flag and dodgeball (but they changed it to bow and arrow dodgeball to secretly help with the kids aim), but now they added a little tournament.

- each camper uses their weapon and are pitted against each other until there is one winner. Unsurprisingly, it’s Damian.

- the GIW crashes the camp in the middle of the night after getting a really strong ecto signal (Damian, plus Danny, plus the other liminal counselors). The counselors were at a separate location having a meeting or some other shit that doesn’t involve the campers.

-with Damian leading, the campers manage to fend them off. He and the other campers notice that they seemed to be targeting Damian.

-the counselors get back in time to help them.

-Damian doesn’t mention any of this to his family, and neither do the other campers. They all want to come back next year.

BONUS

Damian send weekly letters about what he’s doing at camp but in simple terms so that the Wayne’s think that camp just expanded their activities and Damian’s having fun

BONUS BONUS

Damian, after feeding off of Danny’s ecto for 2 months becomes visibly liminal. He grows a foot and a half taller, gets fangs, can hold his breath for longer, is quieter, eyes start glowing.

The Waynes are slightly suspicious, but they’ve all went to the camp and came back fine, so maybe he just had a growth spurt.

Maybe months later Constantine comes to the WaterTower and ask Damian how long he’s been dead. Damian answers.

“4 months, magician.”

The Waynes are now freaking out because they had no idea Damian died during summer camp.

Cue the rabbit hole into Amity Park, Phantom, Danny, and the GIW

[miaoua3]

RIDING SEUNCHEOL'S FACE LIKE FULL-BLOWN SITTING AND GRINDING ON IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH

YUUUUUUUP PREACH IT GURLLL YOU COULDNT TELL ME CHEOL ISNT A CERTIFIED MUNCH OHMYLORD THE NASTINESS THAT IM ABOUT TO WRITE OOOF-

Sit On It

Pairing: bf! scoups x f!reader

Genre: the nastiest smut i will probably ever write (MDNI), face sitting, praise, power play (slight), cunnulingus

Description: you make cheol’s terrible day so so much better by finally fulfilling his biggest fantasy-you sitting on his face.

Note: hyperventilating just by thinking about sitting on his beautiful face, eyebrows furrowed, big arms wrapped around my thighs- UNHOLY THOUGHTS BEGONE XJAJAKANNSOQJAIA (also, not proofread, as per usual💔)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

here’s the thing-a lot of things that you and cheol did in the bedroom was relatively new to you, considering that your previous lovers (if you can even call them that by the lack of effort they put) were selfish and conceded. so when you two started dating, and eventually sleeping together, it was surprising to experience being with someone who was so…giving, almost catering to all of your needs.

that man, if he could, he would spend every waking moment of his between your legs, either lapping and licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, or pounding into it with the force that makes the whole bed move, never mind your body.

still, there was one thing you two still have yet to try. something he has expressed he would love to do-or, well, for you to do to him.

or rather to his face.

naturally, he respected your wishes and you saying ‘no’ to his proposal. but you could see how pouty he turns every time he tries to ask if maybe you have changed your mind yet, only for you to vigorously shake your head.

it’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just…

it’s one thing to have him lay between your legs, lapping on your juices and make you soak both his face and his sheets.

it’s an entirely different thing to have that control over him-over the situation- and just grind on his face, to make yourself cum all over it, when usually he’s the one to usually make you cream all over his face.

and you thought your answer wouldn’t change. not for a while at least.

…well. about that.

you just felt so bad. he came back from work visibly under stress, his thick eyebrows set in a frown so deep they were almost touching.

he barely said anything to you, a clear sign that one wrong word could set him off, hence why he’s avoiding any conversation that could leas up to that.

he immediately locked himself up in the shower for a while, before he came back and went directly to your room, laying flatly on his back. his naked chest rose up and down in shallow and stressed sighs, face hidden in the elbow of his arm that he threw over his gorgeous face.

he just looked so…tense, you felt like you had to do something.

and so, before you knew it, you let your shorts and panties hit the floor, your (actually, cheol’s) shirt following next.

he was just laying there, deep in thought, that he didn’t ever hear you walk across the room, didn’t even pay too much attention to the mattress dipping under your weight as you crawled towards him.

it was only when you forcefully removed his arm from his face that he was ready to say something, mean things to snap at you just on the tip of his tongue immediately dying the moment he registered your nakedness.

at first, he was ready to decline your offer, ready to say that he wouldn’t be too gentle on you right now if you two decided to have sex, that he would use you rather than love you. and that is something he wouldn’t allow to happen, not with you.

but then.

instead of straddling his hips, you went ahead and put your other leg.

on the other side of his shoulder.

cheol just stares up at you, at your gorgeous body, an angle making him both salivate and his lips completely dry, your sweet pussy that he loved more than almost anything in this world hovering over his chin, so close yet so far away.

cheol followed the trail that is your body-your wetness right in front of his eyes, followed by your soft tummy, the curves of your waist connecting right into your chest where your soft and bouncy tits stood proudly, and lastly your visibly shy and nervous face.

he could feel himself panting already, ready to actually suffocate under your weight if you would so kindly let him. but despite his urges and needs, he waited. waited for you to make the first move.

waited for you to take control.

gulping one last time, in low and raspy voice you asked him one final question.

“still want me to sit on it, baby?”

and so here you were, head thrown back as the moans flew freely out of your mouth. almost like an instinct, like an animal, you were unconsciously grinding all over his face, your juices smeared all over his mouth, cheeks, and even nose. and yet, cheol just continued to lap on your pussy like a good boy that he was.

he was so so loud as well, you can’t honestly remember if you have ever heard him be so vocal, maybe even more vocal than you. his groans were bordering on animalistic ones, vibrations coming from his mouth traveling through your pussy, through your quivering tummy and shaky chest, all the way to your ears.

his big and strong arms were strongly wrapped around your thighs, locking them in place, so even if you wanted to move, cheol wouldn’t allow you to.

your hands were so indecisive, going from strongly holding onto the headboard, to leaning back on one, hand pressed into his chest that was tight from the lack of the air, while the other was holding onto his hair, pulling on it as you were grinding all over his beautiful face.

you peaked over your tits to look at his face, only to see his eyes closed in pleasure, eyebrows now furrowed in pure ecstasy instead of anger. you notice his eyes trying to open for a second, only for them to roll back into his head the moment you circle your hips again.

and the noises-god, it was so loud and nasty, it was all the more turn on.

you were just moving your hips, sometimes back and forth, properly grinding on his hungry lips, sometimes just making circular motions, smearing your precum all over his face.

which he seems to like so much, as every time you did it, you could feel his hips buckle upwards into the air and his moans travel through your pussy.

his tongue was splitting your lips apart before dipping inside your hole, collecting your sweetness on his tongue before swallowing it, the tip of his tongue then lapping at your clit for a second before doing it all over again. you swore, it almost looked like he was passionately making out, except it was with your pussy and not with you.

you were worried that you might be too heavy, that you were suffocating him, but that seems to be exactly what he wanted, as any time you tried to raise your hips a bit and let him breathe, he would just harshly pull you back down, a sound somewhere between disapproval and warning leaving him before he goes back to being a moaning mess.

it actually came so naturally to you- being in control. you weren’t even aware just how much control you had over him right at this moment. you were the one that set the pace, the one that used your hold on his hair to move his face in the direction that you wanted him to, the one who was a babbling mess, words like “such a good boy for me” and “fuck, just like that, baby, you do it so good” involuntarily leaving your mouth.

and cheol, just like a good boy you claimed he was, took whatever you gave him.

he was so lost in the pleasure, that he didn’t even notice just how close he was to cumming untouched until your hips started buckling out of control as well, moans getting breathier the closer you were getting to creaming all over his face.

before you knew it, you harshly pulled on his hair to push his face further into your pussy as you threw your head back, a loud scream escaping you as you reached your orgasm and came all over his face, your cum smearing all over his lips and chin as he tried to clean it all up, to swallow it, to lose himself in the pleasure for just a bit longer.

after you became sensitive, you recoiled away from his touch, finally being able to lift your hips away from his face and let him breathe again.

upon you lifting yourself up, cheol uses his newfound to take one deep breath, shakily filling his lungs with fresh air. he wasn’t even aware of just how oxygen deprived he was until he tried looking up at you only for everything to become very very blurry for him.

you two just stayed like that for a minute or so, both looking at each other as your chests were heaving.

and as you were looking at each other, a clear agreement was concluded between you two as you two were trying to come back to your sanities.

fuck, we are going back from this.

[aquarius-johnny]

“totally platonic” | johnny suh

𝜗𝜚 genre: smut | wc: 6.6k | au: friends to lovers 𝜗𝜚 pairing: bestfriend! johnny x afab! reader 𝜗𝜚 warnings: soft dom johnny, virgin reader, banter, hickies, oral (m + f receiving), dirty talk, cum play, cervix kissing, p in v, checking in, unprotected sex, praising, pulling out, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare, confessions, missionary, doggy, other names included for writing purposes, other members mentioned (mark, doyoung) 𝜗𝜚 summary: you’re nearing your thirties and still a virgin. johnny, your best friend and only person who knows about your secret, offers to take your virginity seeing how much its bothering you — but it’s all platonic, duh! 𝜗𝜚 aimee's thoughts 💭 : no thoughts, just a horny smut. added a bonus scene for some fluff at the end. requested by anonymous 𐙚

check out my other work here! → m.list navi

── FRIDAY, 10:38 PM

A familiar text tone designated to your best friend is heard as you sulk in bed.

Johnny🌻: I’m outside, open the door. You: Use the spare key I gave you. I’m in my room.

In less than a minute, your bedroom door slowly opens and your room’s overhead lights turn on, temporarily blinding you for a second before you throw your blanket over your head. The brightness abruptly dims before the only light source comes from your side table lamp.

“You didn’t make it to the monthly dinner,” Johnny lets out as you feel a dip in your mattress. “Everyone was worried and wondered if you were okay.”

You uncover your head from your blanket. Looking up at the man sitting on your bed, you wrinkle your nose in slight disgust. “Ew, you’re on my bed with outside clothes,” you roll your eyes before softly giggling at him.

Johnny laughs, lowering his head in defeat. He stands up and strips himself from his beige sweater and jeans, leaving him in nothing but his white t-shirt and gray underwear. He lays on your bed, turning his body to face you. He slides a pillow under his head and his arm sandwiched between your mattress and the cold side of the pillow.

You place another pillow over his waist, helping him cover his lower half. “You could’ve left your pants on, perv.” You tease, shifting your body to mimic his position.

“Oh shut up. It’s nothing new,” he smiles. “You’ve seen me half naked before.”

You give him a small smile after hearing his words before changing the subject. “What’re you doing here?” You ask, pulling your blanket higher up your body.

“I came to make sure you’re okay.” He presses the backside of his hand against your forehead. “Are you sick? You said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shaking your head, you gently push his hand away. “I just didn’t feel like going to dinner with everyone.” You softly admit, trying to sound nonchalant.

“We both know that’s a lie. You always look forward to our monthly dinners with our friends. What’s wrong?” He looks at you with concern. “You can tell me.”

“Whenever I’m around them, I’m somehow reminded that I’m the only virgin of the group,” you sigh.

“Ah,” he nods in understanding. “I see your v-card is still bothering you.”

“I’m nearly 30, Johnny. I haven’t had sex yet and it’s starting to mess with my life plans. My virginity isn’t even something I hold close to me, sex just hasn’t happened with me.”

“You could always hook up with randos.”

“You know that I’m not into that.” You scoff. “I’ve always wanted to lose it to someone I feel safe with.”

Johnny moves his body closer to you. “There are a lot of people who are still virgins at your age.” He tries to comfort you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me.” You sigh in defeat, covering your face with your hands in frustration. “Maybe I should just run away and become a nun.”

Johnny chuckles at your dramatic statement, gently moving your hands from your face.

“It’s not funny,” you groan before a small laugh involuntarily leaves your lips too. “Please don’t tell anyone why I didn’t come tonight.”

“Hey, I’ve kept your virginity a secret for a long time now. One more can’t hurt.” He lifts his hand to stroke your cheek with the pad of his thumb before pulling away and clearing his throat. “So you just laid here and felt sorry for yourself?”

You give him a death glare, displeased with how he worded your actions even though it really was what you did while him and your group of mutual friends were having dinner.

“Did you have fun tonight?” You ask, changing the subject.

“It’s never fun without you.” He flashes a cheeky smile at you, earning him a giggle from you in response. “It’s the same thing every month. You didn’t miss much.”

You nod your head at his words, allowing silence to fill the air for a minute.

“Hey,” he softly lets out, catching your attention once more. “You trust me, right? Like you feel safe around me?” Johnny hesitantly questions.

“Of course,” you let out a half hearted laugh. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, I can see how much your situation bothers you. So, I was thinking,” he pauses. “And this is just a thought.” He lightly chuckles, attempting to keep the mood light. “If you’re really upset about still being a virgin, why don’t we…” he trails off.

Your brows raise in surprise. Your lips parting upon hearing his words. “Oh, uh, you and me,” you stammer. “Having sex?” You slowly finish his thought.

“Yeah, I mean,” he shifts uncomfortably. “You said you wanted to do it with someone you feel safe with and you just said you feel safe with me, so why don’t we — why don’t I help you, so you don’t feel like this again?”

You fall quiet for a moment, thoroughly thinking through his words as you sit up in bed and pulling your knees to your chest. “Aren’t you afraid of ruining our friendship? What if it makes things awkward and weird between us?”

You watch Johnny shift his weight onto his elbow, propping up his upper body. “Yeah, there’s always a chance of ruining our friendship. There’s also a chance of ruining it if we debate which Spider-Man movie is the best,” he grins, clearly trying to lighten up the mood. “If we make it weird, then it’ll be weird.”

“Okay well, are you… clean?” An involuntary chuckle parts your lips.

He gives you a dramatic eye roll before grabbing a pillow and playfully hitting your face with it. “Yes! Of course I am! I get tested every time I hook up with someone and I always use a condom.” He hits you with the pillow again before you stick your hand out to stop it.

“Forgive me, I’m sorry.” You giggle. “I just wanted to make sure. I know you’re very experienced with this aspect of your life. It’s not like I was degrading you, I’m sorry if you felt I was.” You lay back down in your previous position.

“It’s fine,” he sighs, dramatically. “I suppose it’s normal for someone to ask.” He rolls his eyes. “People usually ask with more tact, but I’ll let it slide with you.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, giggling at his sarcastic comment.

“I’ll even give you the boyfriend experience,” he smirks. “Free of charge, of course.”

“Do you even know how to be a boyfriend?” You scoff before you hold your hands up in preparation to get hit by a pillow again.

“Contrary to your belief, I do know how to be a boyfriend.” He uses a hand to lower your wrists before hitting you with another pillow, causing you to giggle. “You’re feisty today.” He chuckles. “What’s with the sudden jabs at me? Don’t tell me being a virgin for nearly 30 years somehow gives you permission to think you’re better than everyone else.”

“You know that’s not it,” you defend, trying to grab the pillow with your hands.

“Yeah? Just deciding to be a brat then?” He hits you with the pillow again right before you finally have a grasp on it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You laugh. “You know I’m just kidding.”

Johnny concedes, letting out a playful huff. “Didn’t think it’d be this hard to get a virgin to agree to have sex with me.” He grins, helping you sort out your messy hair that he caused.

After moving strands of hair away from your face, he places his warm palm against your cheek.

“What do you think?” Johnny asks. “Wanna lose your virginity to your best friend? Platonically, of course.” He flashes you a grin.

You nod your head in agreement. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

── SATURDAY, 9:43 PM

“You didn’t have to take me to dinner before taking my virginity, you know that right?” You jokingly comment as you push your house key into the lock of your front door. 

“See, when you put it that way I had to take you to dinner.” He chuckles, shutting the door behind him when you both enter your apartment. “It sounds bad if I just took your virginity, right?” 

“No one would’ve known,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, but I would’ve and that doesn’t sit right with me.” Johnny takes your jacket when you strip it off, hanging it on the coat rack with his. “Contrary to your belief, I am capable of treating women well.”

“So you take every hookup to a fancy dinner before fucking them?” 

“Well no,” he pauses. “But that’s not what hookups expect and before you say it, I’ve already told you this isn't a hookup.” 

“What would you call it?”

“Being a good friend.” He flashes you a wicked grin before he cups your cheeks with his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. “I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” 

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. You’re talking a lot,” he giggles. “You’re also being a little brat, again.” He scrunches his nose before a smile appears.

“Sorry,” you sigh in defeat, slowly pulling his hands down from your cheeks. “I don’t know how to go about this.”

“Let’s start off by going to your room and we’ll see where to go from there.” He gently grabs your hand before leading you to your bedroom. 

You both climb onto your bed with your backs against the headboard. Your heart thumps against your chest and you’re fully convinced Johnny could hear it. Biting down on your bottom lip, your mind races at the thought of having sex with your best friend — seeing each other completely naked for the first time, questioning if it’ll ruin the friendship, the idea that he’s probably going to have the worst time because of your lack of experience.

You’re suddenly pulled out of your frantic thoughts when Johnny gently takes a hold of your chin and turns  your head towards him with his lips centimeters away from yours. 

“You’re overthinking,” he whispers before placing a soft kiss against your lips. 

You slowly move your lips with his, feeling his large hand glide up your thigh and under the short wine colored silk dress you wore to dinner. Shifting your body, a tiny hum is heard from Johnny before he deepens the kiss further. Parting his lips slightly, you take the opportunity to run your tongue over his bottom lip before he slowly pulls away. 

Johnny gently tugs on your arm, pulling you onto his lap. Your short dress rides up your thighs as you place a knee on either side of him. 

A large hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your lips back onto his, while the other safely rests on your hip, unmoved. Your hand presses against his clothed chest, feeling the buttons of his long sleeved dress shirt press against the palm of your hand. 

Your heart races as his lips move with yours. Electricity runs through your veins and your face flushes with heat. Your fingers slowly undo the buttons of his shirt and with his lack of objection, you remind yourself that he’s okay with it. 

His hand moves from your hip to the small of your back, pulling your body closer into his. Gently running over your tongue with his, his grip on the back of your neck tightens slightly, needing to keep you in place. 

When you reach the last button, your cold hands rest against his toned stomach and send shivers down his spine. You gently remove his grasp on your neck before pushing the fabric down his shoulders. It’s not too long until the white fabric meets your bedroom floor. Your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him closer.

His hands meet your waist, using them to push your dress up your body. Pulling back, you raise your arms to let Johnny pull it over your head and let the silk fabric slip onto the floor and on top of his shirt. 

You gently push your palm against his chest, forcing him to rest against the pillows behind him. Placing a kiss on his cheek, you trail your lips down his jaw, then give him another kiss on his neck. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pushing you into the crook of his neck and silently urging you to leave your mark on his body. Your lips part, taking his tender skin between your lips and sucking on it — hard. You feel his chest move up and down beneath your breasts. 

Breathless moans part his lips, feeling his calloused hands rub over your back. Pulling away, you admire the red mark that contrasts his pale skin. You continue to trail kisses down Johnny’s chest until you reach the waistband of his pants, undoing his belt and button that’s holding his pants together. Johnny lifts his hips and you tug on the material, removing it from his body.

His erection springs up. You position yourself so Johnny’s leg rests between your thighs. When you pause, he senses your hesitation and lifts your chin to look at him. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you embarrassingly admit.

Johnny gives you a small laugh and a kind smile. “As long as you don’t bite it off, anything you do is fine.” He uses the pad of his thumb to run over your bottom lip. “It’s just licking and sucking, like a popsicle. Can’t promise it’ll taste like one, though.” 

You smile at his attempt to ease your mind. Carefully taking a hold of his shaft, you roll your tongue over his leaking tip before wrapping your lips around it. You sink his shaft into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head up and down. 

“There you go, just like that.” Johnny whispers, throwing his head back against your headboard from the warmth of your mouth and letting out a groan.

You feel his cock harden even more as you bob your head, allowing your saliva to coat his member fully before slicking your hand up and down simultaneously with your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters breathlessly. His brows knit together and his jaw slacks open, speechless at the sight and feeling of your lips wrapped around him. 

You flatten your tongue against his length, licking a strip from the base of his cock to his tip before engulfing him fully into your mouth and allowing his tip to hit your throat. You gag around his cock and the tears brimming your waterline blurs your line of vision. You pull away, catching your breath as you slick your wrist up and down his shaft.

Johnny’s hand grip the sheets under him, biting down on his bottom lip before a shaky moan escapes from between his lips. His chest moves up and down, a slight red tint slowly painting over his chest. He sits up, shifting his weight onto the palm of his hand while the other tilts your head up to look at him before his grasp on your chin pulls your lips to his. 

“Was that okay?” You shyly ask as you break the kiss. 

“More than okay,” he chuckles. 

You weren’t fully convinced of his words, but don’t have time to dwell on it when Johnny kisses you again. He slowly leans back, having you following him without breaking the kiss. When you straddle his lap again, you feel his hard member press against your covered slit. Your mind runs wild with sinful thoughts of him being inside of you. 

In one quick and swift movement, Johnny is hovering over you with his knee separating your thighs. You can’t help but giggle at how smooth he is with his moves. 

“Something funny?” He smiles, moving a strand of hair away from your eye. 

You shake your head. “For what it’s worth,” you let out, your eyes softening at his gaze and lifting your hand to stroke his cheek. “I’m glad I’m losing my virginity to you.” You pull him down to your lips, giving him an endearing kiss.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispers in the space between your lips. His hands glide up your waist and to your breasts, pushing them together before his tongue laps over your perky nipples and kissing your supple skin. 

Johnny pecks kisses down your sternum and abdomen before stopping at the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you. “May I?” He grins, fingers hooked onto the waistband, ready to remove them.

You nod, lifting your hips to allow him room to pull it down your thighs and legs before haphazardly throwing it behind him. 

Johnny widens your spread legs, using his long, slender fingers to stroke your excited slit. Collecting your arousal against his fingers, he parts your puffy lips before using the tip of his tongue to circle around your clit.

A soft moan leaves your lips as Johnny continues to circle and lap his tongue over your clit. His large hand massages your breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers causing a sensation of bliss course through your body. 

“You taste so fucking good,” Johnny mutters against your folds.

Your fingers gather a fist full of his hair, keeping him close. You hear Johnny groan as you tug on it, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin. 

As his tongue skillfully moves against your pussy, your moans grow louder. A fire in the pit of your stomach ignites and tingles course through your veins. A familiar feeling creeps up and you close your eyes, focusing on the way Johnny sucks on your clit. 

You bite down on your bottom lip and your climax hits you, hard, causing you to cry out Johnny’s name while he pins your lower body down to stop you from squirming away from him. You push his head back and see a mischievous smirk pull from the corner of his mouth. 

As you pull yourself up to look at him, you see him use the back of his hand to wipe your slick from his chin. Your hands press against his cheeks, roughly pulling him to your lips, causing him to giggle. Your lips move urgently before lowering yourself onto your back and having Johnny follow you. 

His long, slender fingers circle your sensitive clit and your body shudders under his touch. He eases off on the pressure, lightly rubbing your nub at a steady pace as he swallows the moans you let out against his mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he softly and breathlessly lets out, groaning as your lips begin attacking his neck with open mouth kisses before giving him a gentle bite. “Your lips on my neck,” his voice hitches. “Are driving me crazy.”

You smile as you hear his composure slowly crumble. Continuing your movements, you feel pleasure building up in the area he’s circling. 

His precise and calculated movements fill your mind with haze, halting your kisses to breathe against his skin and focus on the pleasure. 

“I’m close,” you whimper, attempting to continue your movements only to stop a few seconds later, muffling your sounds in the crook of his neck. “I’m cum-“ you softly cry out before you’re cut off by a gasp that desperately part your lips. 

He watches as your thighs begin to tremble and involuntarily closing in an attempt to stop his movements. 

“Keep them open,” he orders, voice low and dominant. 

You comply, opening up once more before gripping his wrist to slow his movements. “T-too much,” you whine. 

His movements come to a stop, crashing his lips into yours. “Wanna stop here?” He sharply inhales before pulling away from your lips. “We can do something else if you change your mind.” 

You shake your head, catching your breath. “At this rate, if I don’t lose it now, I’m dying a virgin.” Your dramatic statement causes your best friend to chuckle. 

“Last chance to be able to join a nunnery.” Johnny whispers, teasingly.

You giggle at his words. “Shut up.” You smash your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your fingers stroking the back of his head.

He breaks your kiss before making his way over to grab his pants you tossed to the side. He fishes for the pack of condoms in the back pocket of his pants. A frantic look washes over him when he isn’t able to find it. 

“Shit,” he groans in frustration. “I think I left the condoms in my car.” 

You both glance over to your bedroom window, watching big raindrops roll down the glass. 

“You said you've been tested and that you’re clean, right?” You ask, looking up at him.

He nods before catching on. 

“There's no way you wanna do it raw.” He shakes his head. “I’ll just run downstairs and grab it.”

“It’s downpouring,” you frown. “I’m okay with it, really. I’m on birth control.”

“You are?” He looks at you, shocked.

“Yeah,” you bashfully smile. “Since graduation.”

“You’ve never told me that,” he chuckles, closing the distance between you two.

“Was I supposed to?” You looked at him amused. “Would it have made you ask to take my virginity sooner if I had told you?” You look up at him, innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“There you go again with your sassy remarks. Always hurting my ego with your words.” He smirks.

“You love me.” You grin, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Why else would you put up with it?” 

All he does is give you a smile before bending down to kiss you. He quickly positions his hips between your thighs. 

Adjusting your body, you watch as he slicks the tip of his cock over your slit, allowing his pre-cum to mix with your wetness. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He instructs, lifting your chin so you’re looking directly into his eyes.

You nod in response.

He slowly pushes into you until his tip disappears inside of you. Johnny continues to slowly sink deeper, with short strokes pumping into you, until he’s fully hidden in your cunt. He freezes for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. 

The sting you feel makes you flinch when he thrusts into you for the first time and you let out a small whimper. Your nails dig into Johnny’s forearms before he circles your clit with his thumb, helping you relax. 

“Is this okay?” He checks in and you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. He leans forward, giving you a soft, warm kiss. He moves as if he’s afraid he’s going to break you as his cock splits you open.

Discomfort slowly turns into pleasure and your mind focuses on how full you feel with Johnny inside of you. 

“Faster,” you softly beg. 

Following your command, his hips pick up its pace. Your cheeks burn with heat as Johnny’s thumb continues to rub circles onto your swollen clit. The lewd noises fill the room as your soaking cunt collides with the base of Johnny’s cock. 

“Harder,” you instruct again as your hands grip onto his waist. 

“You sure?” He questions. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you reassure, rubbing your thumbs over his bare skin. “I’ll be okay.” 

He nods and bucks his hips into your needy cunt. Your jaw drops when you feel how deep he is inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix with every harsh thrust.

Your skin slaps against his, adding to the lewd sounds you’re both making from pleasure. Your heart races and you feel yourself inching closer to another climax as Johnny’s cock hits your g-spot inside of you when you tilt your hips up for him. 

“God, you’re so pretty,” he softly chuckles as he looks down at you and a warm feeling runs under your skin. “So fucking pretty.”

You giggle at his words, covering your face in embarrassment. 

“No, don’t hide, baby.” He softly coos. “I wanna see you.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, pinning your hands into the mattress. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close causing him to deeply groan at your movements. 

His hips snap into you harder, causing you to jerk up your mattress. He releases your hands from his grip and buries his head into the crook of your neck. 

Your moans fill his ears as he continues to thrust into you. When you feel your skin begin to tingle, you drag your nails against Johnny’s back, leaving red lines behind before sinking your nails into his body, too distracted by the pleasure he’s giving you.

He feels your walls pulse against him and his deep, throaty groan is muffled against your skin. 

You choke out a warning before the tension in your stomach snaps. You feel your body tense up as you allow complete bliss to wash over you. 

Johnny takes it upon himself to help you through it, maintaining his pace as your warm and wet walls tighten against his shaft before relaxing. Your body goes limp as you bask in the pleasure.

“Are you okay?” He checks in, peppering soft kisses against your cheeks and halting his movements.

You bashfully nod, eyes glazed over and a tiny giggle leaves your lips. “I’m sorry if I scratched your back a little too hard,” you say, lightly rubbing your palms against his bare skin. 

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, it was pretty hot,” he smirks. “Hearing you moaning was hot too.”

You let out a tired laugh, lifting your head to capture his lips with yours. 

Johnny thrusts into you again, making you gasp at his actions. He smirks against your lips, enjoying your reaction. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and place open mouth kisses against his neck. 

Johnny sharply inhales and a shaky moan parts his lips. “Keep doing that,” he encourages. “Mark me up. Show everyone I’m yours.” 

His words ignite a fire in your stomach, turning you on. You fully comply with what he says, sucking on his skin and leaving red marks against his neck. 

He penetrates deeper into you, clearly turned on with the way you glide your tongue against his neck. Grabbing your waist, he keeps you in place from squirming away from him as he pounds into you.

“Oh fuck,” he stammers. “I’m gonna c-“ 

He quickly pulls himself out of you, frantically stroking his shaft over your stomach and painting his cum over your soft skin. 

You smile at the sight, touching the warm substance with your middle finger before using it to rub your swollen clit. 

“Oh god,” he pants. “Are you using my cum as lube right now?” He gives you an amused chuckle and a lopsided grin.

You look at his erection in his hand. “You’re still hard?” You question in disbelief. 

He looks down to where your gaze falls. “It happens when I’m really turned on.” His cheeks blush a pink hue. 

Your brows shoot up in shock and you use the palm of our hand to slowly rub over his cock’s head. Looking up at him, you bite on your bottom lip.

“You’re gonna continue fucking me, right?” You ask, using your other hand to continue circling your clit with his cum. 

“Yeah,” he breathlessly replies. “You want me to?” His jaw drops open, etching the sight of you into his mind. 

You silently nod in reply. 

“Turn over,” he growls. He moves away from you to give you space to change positions. “Get on all fours.” 

You follow his instructions and feel him align with your entrance. Taking a hold on your waist, he slowly sinks into you. He watches as your dripping cunt swallows him fully and with ease. Your jaw drops, enjoying how he fills you up perfectly, like he was made for you. 

His cock plunges into you with no remorse. The sound of smacking flesh bounces off your walls and his deep, low, and gravelly grunts accompany the way he’s pulling your cunt onto his shaft. 

Your arms give in, making you collapse onto the pillows in front of you, muffling your sobs as his cock rams into you.

Johnny holds your hips up and your back arches to his liking. Your finger gathers more of his release from your stomach before sliding it up and down your slit. 

“Keep going, please,” you beg, your voice muffled by your pillows. 

“Only if you keep touching yourself like that,” he pants. “Make yourself cum on my cock, baby.” 

He feels your walls tighten around his shaft and before you can warn him, your body trembles as you allow your orgasm to wash over you. 

You attempt to shift your weight back onto your hands before settling on using your headboard to keep you up. 

He places a hand over yours while his other hand grips your shoulder, simultaneously pulling you down his length when he thrusts into you, helping fuck you through your orgasm. 

Your eyes involuntarily cross before rolling to the back of your head. Your mind goes fuzzy, too engrossed in your orgasm to notice how much of a mess you are. You’re sobbing Johnny’s name that’s mixed with your favorite curse words and sounds of moans that he absolutely loves to hear. 

He pulls your back to his warm chest, holding you up with his strong arms. His hips recklessly pound up into you, leaving you cockdrunk and speechless. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he gasps. 

You push your ass into him while your hands grip onto his hips, keeping him from pulling out. 

“If you don’t move,” he grunts. “I’m cumming inside you,” he warns, feeling your hips grind against him. 

“Do it. Fill me up,” you giggle, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. 

Your words are enough to push Johnny to the edge and he empties his entire load inside of you with a loud groan that he muffles against your shoulder. 

His chest heaves against your back and you feel him pepper kisses against your neck, trailing them up and behind your ear. Lifting his hand, he gently takes a hold of your chin and turns your head to face him — placing tender kisses against your swollen lips.

“Are you okay?” He whispers. “It got a little rough towards the end there.” 

“Mm,” you hum. “I might feel it tomorrow but I’ll be okay.” 

You’re both pulled out of the intimate moment when a loud clap of thunder is heard. 

Johnny slowly releases his hold on you and you carefully lift your body off him, feeling his creamy release leak out of you. You lay on your back, attempting to catch your breath. 

Johnny places himself next to you, inviting you to rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around you — his fingers lightly tapping against your waist. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking up at him.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he chuckles, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Are you cold?” He reaches over to grab your blanket, pulling it over your body and his. 

You both sit there in silence, basking in his warmth. You nuzzle your face into his neck before whispering his name, catching his attention. 

“Do you remember when we were younger,” you gulp. “There was this asshole kid who kept making fun of me during recess?” You say the kid’s name, causing Johnny to laugh. 

“Yeah, I remember.” He shakes his head. “Why?” 

“Have I ever told you that when you told him to stop, I developed this huge crush on you?” You bury your face further into his neck, embarrassed at your sudden confession. 

“You did?” He asks, surprise dripping from his words.

“Is that weird?” You giggle, nervously biting down on your bottom lip. “If it is, it’s a total and complete lie, for sure. I never had a crush on you.” You reply sarcastically, having him pull you in tighter followed by a laugh that leaves his lips. 

“Remember when my best friend took you to senior prom?” He asks, pushing his hair back by his roots only for it to fall into the same position. 

You nod. “Yeah, how can I forget,” you chuckle. “He was my first kiss.”

“Yeah,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Don’t remind me, he would not shut up about it and I was pissed.”

“Why?” You lift your head, leaning your body weight against your elbow. 

“I had this plan to ask you.” He lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “When he asked you and you said yes, I felt my heart physically break.” He laughs to himself. “I liked you so much, then finding out my best friend beat me to it, the biggest betrayal I ever felt.” 

“Well, if it means anything now,” you cup his cheek. “I was hoping you’d ask.” 

He places a tender kiss on the palm of your hand. 

“So,” you drawl. “When did you stop?” 

“Stop what?”

“Liking me,” you giggle. “Romantically, I mean.” 

He sits up, throwing his legs over the side of your bed — his back facing you. “Who says I stopped?” He softly laughs. You see him slightly turn his head to the side. Standing up and grabbing his underwear from your bedroom floor, clearly avoiding eye contact with you.

“Are you leaving?” You ask, watching his every move.

“No, unless you want me to?” He questions, turning to look at you. 

You hear another clap of thunder and the sound of rain hits your glass window, harder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I want you to stay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Plus, you promised me the boyfriend experience.”

He softly sighs, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. He resumes his position next to you and you rest your head against his chest again.

“When did you stop liking me?” He softly questions and you hear his heartbeat accelerate, nervous to hear your response. 

“I didn’t,” you whisper, looking up at him and scrunching your nose, knowing he loves when you do that.

Your response makes him lightly laugh, placing a hand on top of your head before stroking the back of your hair. “Yeah,” he sighs, pulling your body into his even more. “Tonight definitely was not platonic, huh?” 

“Yeah, definitely not,” you grin. “At all.”

── BONUS SCENE: FRIDAY, 10:03 PM

“I’m gonna pay for tonight, I’ll meet you guys outside.” Johnny lets out, pulling his phone out and preparing his payment method.

You and your group of friends thank the hostess before walking out the front doors. 

“We missed you last month,” your friend, Mei, smiles as she places a hand on your arm. “We were worried about you.” 

“I’m fine,” you giggle. “Just wasn’t feeling well that night.”

“You seem better now,” Mark chimes in. “Happier, even.” 

You smile and nod your head. “Yeah, I mean, I always look forward to seeing you guys, so…” you trail off, rubbing your arms with the palms of your hands as a gust of wind hits you. 

“Do you need a ride home or is an Uber coming to get you?” Mei asks, throwing on her cardigan. “I can take you home.” 

You shake your head. “My boyfriend is actually taking me home,” you softly let out, trying to ease your way into telling them you and Johnny are now a couple.

Your friends look at you in shock. “Boyfriend?!” They say in unison. Their overlapping voices cause you to laugh and you make out a few of their questions before shaking your head and shushing them. 

“Boyfriend?” Mark laughs. “Why didn’t you tell us during dinner?” 

“It didn’t really come up,” you shrug.

“Is he coming now?” Doyoung questions. “We’ll wait with you until he gets here.” 

You check your phone, seeing a text from Johnny who lets you know that they’re taking a while to get the total amount for dinner. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “He’ll be here in a bit.” 

“Wait, how’d you meet?” Mei’s twin sister, Maya, asks you, running her fingers through her hair before crossing her arms across her chest, attempting to keep herself warm. 

“I’ve known him for a long time now,” you smile, staying as vague as possible — a little shy to tell them who your boyfriend actually is. 

“Does Johnny know?” Mark questions, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket. “Him being your best friend and all.”

“Yeah, he does.” You nod, watching Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise — assuming he knows how much Johnny actually liked you. 

“What’s his name?” Doyoung asks.

They all keep their eyes on the parking lot, waiting and searching for a car to pull up in front of you. 

Before you could drop the surprise, Johnny joins the five of you. He gently wraps his jacket over your shoulders before you take a hold of his arm. 

“Ready to go home?” He asks, unaware that you still have yet to tell them. 

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. “But I haven’t-”

The four of them turn to look at you, eyeing the way you’re clinging onto Johnny’s arm. 

“Wait,” Mei lets out, pointing at Johnny but looking at you. “You said your boyfriend is taking you h-” 

“Surprise?” You grin, slightly tightening your grip on his arm.

Your friends’ jaws drop, overlapping their questions once more as Johnny throws an arm over your shoulders and pulls you into his side as if he’s protecting you from their rapid questions. 

He takes the time to answer their questions as your body warms up from both excitement and nervousness. You suddenly feel tiny raindrops beginning to fall from above you. 

“We better get going,” you warn everyone. “Don’t wanna get caught in the rain.” 

Everyone agrees and says their goodbyes, congratulating you both on your new relationship.

The rain picks up and bigger, heavier raindrops begin to fall. Johnny lifts his jacket over the both of you and you both quickly make your way over to his car. You grab his keys from the pocket of his jeans, unlocking the passenger’s side door. 

Johnny quickly appears in the driver’s seat, throwing his damp jacket in the backseat. 

“That went well, huh?” He smiles, quickly turning on his car and the heater, knowing your hands are cold. 

“Yeah,” you giggle. “Thank you for answering their questions, by the way. It was a little…”

“Overwhelming?” He grins, taking a hold of your hand and bringing it to his soft lips. 

“Exactly,” you sigh. You quickly buckle yourself in and Johnny does the same. “You’re staying the night, right?”

“Of course.” He pets the back of your head before driving back to your place. 

As you’re both laying in bed, you have a rerun of your favorite show playing in the background. Johnny draws circles against your back as you lay your head against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“Johnny?” You sleepily call out.

He hums, pausing his movements. 

“Do you think you could you read me to sleep?” You yawn. “I’ve been reading a chapter of that book every night before bed.” You point to the novel on your nightstand. 

“Yeah, I definitely can.” He shuts off your tv and shifts in bed to grab the book. He opens the novel to the page you stuck your makeshift bookmark in as you make yourself comfortable. 

He begins to read aloud and you focus on his voice. By the time he finishes reading the chapter, you’re fast asleep. 

After carefully placing the book back on the nightstand, Johnny gently pulls your blanket up your body. 

“Good night baby,” he softly whispers before placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Sweet dreams. I love you.”

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

dbf! simon riley with the biggest breeding kink

cw: age gap (legal), vaginal sex, unprotected add, breeding kink, degradation, use of daddy - i did a lot of dbf! work on my main and thought id bring it back here teehee

simon had no business in being balls deep inside his best friends daughter, his body scarred and tatted contrasting with your feminine room. your pink floral sheets tousled around the bed, half hanging off as your head was shoved in your frilly pillow. the flimsy bed frame barely hanging on with simon’s harsh thrusts, each movement a display to his experience and the amount of years he has in you.

“‘m gonna breed this cute lil cunnie yeah?” simon grunted as he watched the way his fat cock stretched your cunt out, a small bulge forming in your stomach. “makin’ sure your all round and plump with my baby, how does that sound luvie?”

he was here to look after you, to drive you back from college because your dad had a business trip, but here he was. “si it’s too deep,” you whined as tears welled up from the slight burn due to the sheer stretch. “i know luvie, i know, but yer gonna be a good girl yeah? let daddy take care of you.”

guys your age didn’t fuck like him, god they came no where near close.

his tatted hand gently wiped the tears streaming down your cheek as you hiccuped. “jus’ relax yeah? evehrbinf will feel better once i fill yer pretty lil hole up.”

simon had years of experience on you, but the way your warm gummy walls clenched around him made him feel like an amateur.

“milkin’ me dry from the way your pretty little cunt is clenchin’ round me.” a low hiss escaping his mouth as an obscene squelching noise left your cunt. he has never felt pussy this fucking good, so warm and tight - like it was begging to be filled.

his cock chubbed at the thought of you all round and pregnant with his kids. simon never considered settling down, but god, how could he not with his pretty birdie that was also his best friends daughter?

“‘m gonna look after you, gonna give you those messages when yer pregnant and feed you so much damn food.” his hands gently squeezed your sides, god - you would just look so perfect pregnant.

“once i find the perfect ring ‘m gonna give it to you, gonna make sure it’s a fat fucking diamond.” he would spoil you rotten, a wedding ring to display his claim, and how other men would not be able to look after you the way he did.

he kept his word, his cock stuffed inside your small cunt as you fell asleep whilst he scrolled looking for the best ring.

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @prettyinpink-bimbo @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone

[nightplvmes]

"his safe place" — zayne headcanon 𐙚⋆fluff • fem!reader • masterlist

When the bedroom door opened, you knew Zayne had arrived from the hospital. A smile spread across your face as you watched him take off his glasses and place them on the nightstand. You set your book aside, excitement filling your chest as you saw your boyfriend there. "Hi, how was your day?" you asked, knowing he had a lot of surgeries that day.

"Tired," he replied with a sigh. He quickly slid into bed next to you, but unlike what you thought, he didn't lie down next to you; he was practically on top of you but it didn't bother you; you barely felt his weight on top of you. "What did you do today?" he asked, snapping you out of your bubble as he rested his head on your chest. His favorite place.

Zayne loved when you told him about your day, even if you'd just spent the entire afternoon reading, because he said he liked your voice and it distracted him from what had happened at the hospital or the patients he couldn't save. "Well, I made dinner in case you're hungry. That reminds me, I went to the supermarket. After work I went to a bookstore, and when I came back, I took a shower and started this new book I bought about a girl who…" Your words trailed off when you heard Zayne's heavy breathing.

Your brow furrowed, but not because you were upset, more because you were confused. You shifted to look at him, only to realize he'd fallen asleep. He'd fallen asleep in your arms. A smile formed on your lips, and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair. You didn't dare wake him up, not yet, at least. You simply picked up the book from your nightstand to continue reading. After all, you were his safe place.

[dior-luxury]

hiiiii hope you're having a good day! Can I request Idia, Azul, Ruggie, Jamil, Lilia, Ace + anyone else you like with a reader who has a crush on them but is utterly convinced there's no way he likes them back? Just "he's so cute and I love him but he's way out of my league, oh well back to daydreaming" Thank youuuu ~ 👾 nonnie

You Being Convinced They Don't Like You Back

( ✧ ) ────── pre-boyfriend stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] ace . ruggie . azul . jamil . idia . lilia

- [𝐩:𝐬] Self-deprecating thoughts / Low self-esteem . Mutual pining . Angst with a happy ending . Romantic insecurity . Fluff

Note: I literally am in LOVE with this prompt hello 🥹 thank you so much for requesting 👾 nonnie! I hope my writing exceeds your expectations ( ´ ω ` ) .

Ace Trappola

The library was unusually quiet for a Thursday afternoon, the hum of distant conversation muffled by the towering shelves of books and the occasional creak of an old wooden chair. You sat in the farthest corner, your favorite spot, hunched over your notebook but not really writing. Not really thinking, either.

You were doodling again—him, of course. The slightly messy hair that was always a shade redder in the sunlight, the crooked smirk that came out right before he teased someone (or charmed them), and those stupid little hearts he sometimes made with his hands just to be annoying. Ace Trappola.

You sighed and dropped your pencil, watching it roll off the desk. “Ugh, why is he so cute,” you mumbled under your breath, face down in your arms.

It wasn’t like he knew you existed in any special way. Sure, you were classmates, sometimes group partners, sometimes sparring partners in flight class. He joked with you a lot, yeah. But he joked with everyone. He winked at everyone. He didn’t look at you the way you looked at him—soft, lingering, completely lovesick.

You were convinced Ace belonged in a whole different universe than you. He was bold, charming, magnetic. And you? You were… fine. Okay. Passable. Not his type, whatever that was. So you kept it inside. You giggled with your friends about how cute he looked in his uniform, you wrote little daydreams in your journal and then crossed them out, and you tried to survive the actual conversations with him without letting the pink in your cheeks get too noticeable.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that Ace had been hovering outside the aisle for the past five minutes.

He’d come to return a book, seen you, and almost walked away. But your muttering had stopped him cold.

He leaned a little closer, his heartbeat just a bit too loud in his ears. Did you just call him cute? No way. You were probably talking about some manga character.

But then you sighed again and muttered, “He’d never like someone like me. Not when he’s... him.”

And something in Ace's chest twisted.

He stepped out casually, pretending like he hadn’t just eavesdropped on your heartbreak. “Yo,” he said, tossing the book on the return cart. “Didn’t know you talked to yourself. Should I be worried?”

You jolted upright, face turning crimson the moment you saw him. “A-Ace?!”

He leaned on the edge of your desk, eyes scanning your doodles. “Wow, that guy looks exactly like me,” he teased. “You got a little crush or something?”

You tried to cover the page, but it was too late. Panic surged in your chest, your throat tightening as every possible excuse dried up on your tongue.

Ace tilted his head, smirk fading just slightly into something softer. “Hey,” he said, quieter now. “Was that about me back there? What you said?”

You froze. Busted.

He laughed—gently, not the loud, showy kind. “You think I’m out of your league? That’s rich. You literally do everything better than me except math, and I still think about how you beat me in Spell Target last month.”

You blinked, stunned.

Ace grinned wider, leaning just a bit closer. “So... maybe I’ve got a little crush too. Don’t go writing me off like that next time, yeah?”

Ruggie Bucchi

It was late afternoon, and the Savannaclaw lounge was mostly empty—except for you, perched on the steps outside, and Ruggie, balancing a tray of snacks with a practiced hand. You’d offered to help, but he’d waved you off with a grin.

“Relax, I got this.”

You smiled politely, folding your arms tighter. Not that he’d notice the way your chest fluttered when he smiled like that. That sly, sleepy-eyed grin that made your stomach dip every time.

Ruggie was… everything you weren’t. Fast-talking, adaptable, clever, confident in a way you never could be. He made jokes even when Leona was glaring daggers. He knew how to turn scraps into something useful. And you? You were just you.

No way he’d be interested in someone who wasn’t cool, cunning, or at least a little dangerous. He needed someone who could keep up with his sharp tongue and trickster nature. Not someone like you who blushed too easily and got tongue-tied every time he looked your way.

You fiddled with a loose thread on your sleeve, sighing. “He’s way out of my league,” you whispered to no one.

Unbeknownst to you, Ruggie was returning from the lounge, just in time to hear that.

He paused in his step, the grin faltering as the words sank in.

Out of your league? Him?

He tilted his head, watching you. You looked… soft. Tired. Not just from today, but maybe from carrying that weight in your chest. The kind he knew too well. Ruggie bit the inside of his cheek and walked over quietly, plopping down beside you without a word.

You looked up, startled. “Oh! You’re back.”

“Yeah.” He offered you one of the sweet pastries he’d snagged from the kitchen. “You looked like you needed somethin’ sweet.”

You took it, hesitating. “Thanks…”

The silence lingered a moment too long. Then Ruggie said casually, “You know, I heard what you said.”

You froze.

Ruggie turned his head to look at you, his smile smaller now, more sincere. “You think I’m outta your league?” He snorted. “That’s a laugh. You’re the only one around here who’s nice to me without expecting somethin’ in return.”

You stared, lips parting, but no words came out.

“I notice things, y’know,” he continued, voice lower now. “How you bring extra snacks just in case someone forgets lunch. How you patch people up after training. How you always wave to Grim like he’s the main character or somethin’.”

You smiled weakly. “He thinks he is.”

Ruggie chuckled. “You’ve got no idea how easy it is to like you, do ya?”

The air went still.

He leaned a bit closer, a mischievous spark lighting back up in his eyes. “So, what d’you say we make this official? You stop pretendin’ I don’t like you, and I stop stealin’ snacks to get your attention. Deal?”

You couldn’t speak. You just nodded—furiously.

And Ruggie, with a smug little grin, nudged your shoulder and whispered, “Knew you liked me, too.”

Azul Ashengrotto

The lounge was closed for the night, lights dimmed, the usual chatter of customers replaced by the quiet shuffle of papers and the gentle clink of glass as Azul organized the bar. You sat alone at one of the side tables—he’d offered to let you hang out while he finished work, a kind gesture wrapped in professionalism. You didn’t question it. You were just happy to be near him.

Azul was perfect. Not in an untouchable way, but in the dangerously magnetic way. His intelligence, his poise, the calculating way his eyes always seemed to know more than he let on. He could make a deal with a king and still get the better end of it. He ran a whole business while juggling classes and contracts and never once looked like he was struggling.

Meanwhile, you were just… you. No cunning. No genius intellect. Just someone who barely passed alchemy and still got nervous speaking in front of people. Azul was miles above your league.

So, you admired him from afar. You listened carefully when he spoke in class, hung onto his every word when he got passionate about potion theory, and then pretended not to ache when he’d smile politely and move on without knowing how he affected you.

Tonight was no different.

You watched him from behind your drink, your heart fluttering as he adjusted his glasses, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You sighed under your breath, “He’s so beautiful. And way out of my league. Oh well. Back to daydreaming…”

Azul looked up.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but his mer ears were… sensitive. The words hit him harder than expected. You thought he was out of your league?

He swallowed hard, turning away quickly to hide the sudden redness in his cheeks. Was that a joke? Were you playing him? No, no—your voice had been too soft. Too sad.

He closed the ledger and made his way over to your table, rehearsing something casual to say. But he couldn’t do it. The usual charm slipped. He sat down across from you instead, unusually quiet.

“Everything alright?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said too quickly. Then, after a breath: “I overheard something just now.”

Your heart dropped.

“I didn’t mean to. But you said…” He paused, searching your face for any trace of irony. “You think I’m out of your league?”

You froze. Busted again. Why did the universe keep doing this to you?

Azul looked… uncertain. Vulnerable. His fingers tapped the edge of the table in a rare moment of nervous fidgeting. “You have no idea how intimidating you are to me.”

You blinked. “Me?!”

“Yes. You’re so—genuine. You smile without scheming. You care without a contract. That’s not something I’m used to.” His voice dropped, soft and serious. “And I’ve liked you for a while. But I didn’t think someone as… sincere as you could ever return that kind of feeling.”

Your chest clenched. “Azul, I… I do. I have. For a long time.”

He gave a breathless little laugh. “Then perhaps… a real date? No contracts, no business. Just us?”

You nodded, overwhelmed but glowing. And for once, Azul Ashengrotto looked flustered. Adorably so.

Jamil Viper

The sun was setting over Scarabia, painting the desert sky in shades of gold and crimson. You sat at the balcony edge of the dorm’s main building, legs dangling, fingers absentmindedly picking at your sleeve as you watched the horizon burn.

Jamil was training below—moving with that smooth, graceful precision of someone who knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how much attention he was getting. But Jamil never asked for attention. He earned it quietly, consistently, and refused to let it change him.

You had it bad. So bad it was kind of pathetic.

He was calm, composed, mysterious in the way that made your heart race just a little. But also kind, thoughtful, and far too selfless for someone with his level of talent. You loved the way he took care of others, even when they didn’t realize he was doing it. You loved the way his eyes lit up when no one was watching and he actually let himself enjoy something.

And of course, you’d convinced yourself he’d never return the feeling.

You were ordinary. Not someone with elegance carved into every step. Not someone with a voice that could silence a room. You were nice, and dependable, but not the kind of person who got someone like Jamil Viper.

You sighed and murmured to yourself, “He’s so cool and so out of my league… but I love him anyway. Guess I’ll just keep dreaming.”

Unfortunately, your voice carried.

Jamil paused mid-step, hearing your words. The rhythm of his movements faltered for just a second. He glanced up, spotted you on the balcony, and blinked.

Your eyes met. Panic.

He jogged up the steps—not fast, but direct. Intentional.

You stood, heart racing. “J-Jamil, I didn’t know you—”

“I heard you,” he said, his voice even, but there was a flicker of emotion in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. “What you said.”

You turned crimson. “That was—I didn’t mean—well, I did, but not for you to—”

He held up a hand gently. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded, too stunned to speak.

“I’ve spent a long time trying not to like anyone,” he said slowly. “Because it’s easier. Because I don’t get to have things I want. People expect me to stay in the background, to be useful—not to be seen.”

Your breath hitched.

“But then you came along. You’re kind. You notice things most people overlook. You see me.” He looked away for a second, a rare flicker of vulnerability. “And I didn’t think I was allowed to want someone like you.”

You were stunned. “Jamil… I see you because I care. I’ve always cared.”

He looked at you again, softer now. “Then maybe we’ve both been idiots.”

You laughed shakily. “Definitely.”

Jamil stepped closer, a real smile pulling at his lips. “Then let’s stop pretending. I like you. And I’m not letting you drift away into daydreams anymore.”

Your heart soared. Maybe… just maybe… you were enough for him all along.

Idia Shroud

The glow of the computer screen lit your face as you sat cross-legged on the floor of Ignihyde's rec room—aka Idia's fortress. You’d been invited to a co-op gaming session, not unusual since you’d proven yourself in battle simulators, strategy MMOs, and the occasional horror VR run.

But what was unusual… was that Idia had invited you.

You kept telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal. He was probably just being friendly. Maybe he appreciated that you didn’t make fun of his Otaku shrine or that time he totally short-circuited a project trying to install AI voice lines of a waifu into Ortho.

Still, every time he laughed softly at one of your dumb jokes, or his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a controller—you felt that dizzy, heart-thumping feeling in your chest. And you reminded yourself, for the millionth time:

“He’s brilliant. Cool in a mysterious, tech-wizard way. That anime hair glows. He’s basically a boss-level character. And me? I’m just a side quest.”

So you kept your feelings locked behind your own firewall and resigned yourself to the background.

Tonight was no different. After you won a particularly chaotic match, Idia leaned back in his chair, hoodie half-draped over his head, giving you one of those rare, sheepish smiles. “Y-you’re really good at this… I mean, I knew you were decent, but like… whoa. T-totally NPC-crushing it.”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “Guess I just like playing with you…”

He froze. Not visibly, not obviously—but if you’d been watching closely (and you always were), you’d notice the way his avatar just… idled.

You were about to awkwardly fill the silence when you heard it—his voice, quiet, uncertain. “You know, I always thought you were… like… out of my league.”

Your brain lagged.

“Wait—what?”

Idia pulled the hood further over his head, hair flickering in shades of anxious pink. “I mean, you’re normal. Like, good at talking to people, and helping Ortho with projects, and you actually listen when I go off on anime world-building lore instead of hitting skip like everyone else.”

Your jaw dropped a little. “But I thought I was just the sidekick here! I mean—you’re… you. I figured there was no way someone like you could like someone like me.”

He glanced up, eyes wide and glowing faintly. “No. You’re not ‘someone like’ anything. You’re just… you. And you’re kind of my favorite player two.”

Silence stretched.

And then he blurted, fast and fumbling, “So—uh, do you wanna maybe do a… real date co-op thing? Like a—non-digital questline?”

You beamed. “I’d love to.”

And somewhere in the corner, Ortho’s little scanner lit up green. “Successful confession: confirmed.”

Lilia Vanrouge

The Diasomnia garden was especially quiet in the evening, the moonlight bathing the stone paths in silver as soft wind rustled the leaves. You often came here after a long day—it was peaceful, and you could just… think.

And of course, he was often there.

Lilia.

Sometimes humming an old lullaby. Sometimes practicing aerial flips. Sometimes just tending to the strange, glowing plants with that serene little smile. He was enigmatic, ageless, playful in a way that made your heart ache. He flirted with everyone, joked like he’d seen centuries of stories unfold—and maybe he had.

You were utterly, hopelessly, in love with him.

But you’d buried it. Because how could someone like Lilia Vanrouge—mysterious, powerful, ancient, and radiant—ever love someone like you?

“He’s basically immortal. I’m mortal, awkward, and sometimes trip over nothing. He’s been alive since kingdoms rose and fell. I’m just trying to pass my midterms without dying of stress. He probably sees me like a cute stray cat or something.”

So instead of confessing, you smiled, nodded when he teased you, and let the daydreams pile up where he couldn’t see.

Tonight, you didn’t notice him approach until he sat beside you, quiet and uncharacteristically gentle.

“Lost in thought, little one?”

You startled slightly, then laughed. “Yeah. Just… life stuff.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, gaze flicking over your face like he was reading something written across your skin. “You've been sighing a lot lately.”

You tried to deflect. “Guess I’ve just been thinking about someone.”

His eyes twinkled. “Ah… a crush, perhaps?”

You flushed. “Maybe.”

Lilia tilted his head, fangs barely visible behind his grin. “And what is this mysterious someone like?”

You bit your lip. “He’s… incredible. Playful but wise. Mysterious. Totally out of my league.”

That grin faded—just slightly. “Out of your league?”

You nodded, sighing. “Yeah. He’s someone who probably sees a million people every day and never notices someone like me. Which is fine. I’m just… daydreaming. That’s all.”

Lilia was silent for a beat. And then he did something you hadn’t expected.

He took your hand.

“You know,” he said quietly, “for someone who’s lived as long as I have… very few people surprise me anymore. But you? You always do. With your honesty, your kindness… and the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

You froze.

“I do notice,” he added, voice lowering, soft as dusk. “And I would be a fool not to return the favor.”

You stared, eyes wide. “Wait… you—?”

“Yes.” He smiled, a touch bittersweet. “And I’ve been waiting for the right time to say it. But it seems we’ve both been sitting in our little corners of longing, haven’t we?”

You nodded, heart hammering.

He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. “Well then… perhaps it’s time we step out of the daydream.”

[brujaluas]

What your future spouse will think of you when you are starting to get to know each other??

i love my isabelle 🎀

pile 1

I'll tell you, I was doing the reading and I was like "wow", really shocked. I don't know what you did, but it caused an EXTREME impression on your spouse. When you meet them, you will probably be doing very well in life, especially in your professional and career field, and they will think that's great. That Lady Gaga song called Paparazzi came to mind, "I'll be your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me" something like that (I'm sorry if the lyrics aren't 100% accurate lol). They may be colleagues, something like that, but they will see you and recognize you as a very intense figure of authority and someone who really puts things in order and knows how to lead people. They see you as a leader, especially if you are a woman. They think it's incredible that you seem so impassive and well-structured. They may not be so good with words, but you make them nervous, so they end up talking nonsense that in their minds is incredible, but in reality it can even be an insult.

pile 2

what's happening with you guys? I'M NOT DOUBTING ANYONE'S POTENTIAL, but I'm shocked at how you manage to make REALLY strong impressions on them in such a short time. It's a mess here. I don't know why, but they'll consider you famous (?), they'll see you as a star like Maxxine screaming I'M FUCKING STAR, but anyway, they think you're somehow flashy and stand out to the public. If you wear clothes that show a lot of skin, they like it and will think a lot about it. They also think you'll have to give up a lot of things for this relationship or they have to change a lot of things for you. In a way, it's as if one or both of you are in a comfort zone, but you'll have to face it like having a relationship, ending cycles and starting new ones.

pile 3

They'll see you as a very rational, inflexible and bossy person. a difficult person to tame (?) (that was the phrase that came to mind, probably a thought that crossed their mind), anyway, they will think that you are in some kind of transfer of sectors in life (I don't know if that makes sense to you, maybe to a very small group of people), they will think that your life is turned upside down, experiencing many things, it is as if your life is very intense and you have to deal with everything at the same time but at the same time they have faith in you! They believe that you can achieve what you want, they root for you, like they know that you will be able to get there.

[starmaidengarden]

@meime13 request: well, I just read ur rules, and it seems ur requests are open based on what u wrote May I request Housewarden + jamil with a s/o (fem, if u don't mind) who doesn't talk much and is always reserved but when her interests are mentioned, she goes on full yapping, sharing all details she knows and sometimes her speech is incoherent from her stutters and fast her speech is, abt her interests i would like u to make interested in astrology and psychology and she finds observing ppl fascinating thing if u don't mind, I would like it to be romantic and in already established relationship I'm sorry if it's too much, u can ignore it if u want to, all in all, I hope u take care of urself

𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐬/𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝!

— Housewardens : jamil : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. established relationship. dividers : uzmacchiato!

a/n: I accidentally deleted the original request (｡T ω T｡)

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

At first, Riddle felt a bit thrown off by the silence between you two—wondering if he had messed up somehow. But as time went on, he started to really enjoy the warm and cozy vibe that came just from being around you. One afternoon, with sunlight pouring in through the window, you got excited about astrology and started explaining all the cool stuff about retrogrades and birth charts.

Your words flowed out, full of energy and a touch of nerves. Riddle couldn’t take his eyes off you; your passion was adorable. He even looked up the compatibility of your signs, hoping to see if there might be some connection.

With his teacup long forgotten in his hand, he leaned in closer, eyes wide and fully immersed with what you are saying. The way your eyes lit up while you talked had him totally mesmerized; it felt like you were revealing a secret part of yourself. When you finally paused, a bit shy and apologetic for going on so long, Riddle waved your worries away. “No—please, keep going. I love what you're saying,” he said, his voice full of genuine excitement. In that moment, he realized there was nowhere else he’d rather be than right there, soaking up every word.

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

He’s pretending to be asleep, all relaxed and still, but you can’t help but notice his tail twitches every time your voice hints at something exciting. You’ve settled in next to him under the tree, with warm sunlight filtering through the leaves, making it the perfect cozy spot. As you start talking, your words come pouring out with all the energy you’ve got, and Leona cracks one eye open, a playful grin forming on his face. “So now the stars are telling people what to do, huh?” he says, his voice teasing. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his light-hearted joke, but you keep going, fueled by your enthusiasm.

He’s really listening, though, nodding along and watching you with a soft look in his eyes as you wave your hands around, totally caught up in your ideas. Even if he doesn’t say a lot while you’re rambling on, you know he’s soaking it all in. Later, he’ll surprise you by mentioning something you talked about, and your heart will skip a beat knowing he remembered every little detail.

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

Azul assumed your reserved nature meant you were like him—constantly calculating, he admired how composed you were around others. However, he was totally caught off guard the first time you started throwing out all these fun facts about psychology. He blinked at you through his glasses, a little stunned. You waved your hands, trying to explain subconscious archetypes, your speech getting tangled in your excitement.

Azul absolutely melted inside. He got flustered and attempted to keep up mentally, nodding seriously even though half of what you were saying was flying over his head because you were talking so fast. He started intentionally researching psychology and astrology terms to understand you better, occasionally dropping them into conversation just to see you light up again. he just listens with warm, kind eyes. “Every word you say fascinates me,” he tells you, smiling softly. “Don’t be shy. Share more with me.”

Kalim Al-Asim ༉⋆｡˚

Kalim lives for your little info dumps, utterly enchanted by the way your quiet behavior changes into vibrant energy whenever you swoop into topics like star signs and personality theories. The moment you start talking, he can see your eyes light up, and it’s as if your passion spills over, igniting excitement in the air around you. Occasionally, you get caught up on certain words, searching for just the right way to express your thoughts, yet Kalim remains completely absorbed.

“Wow! Does that mean I’m a Cancer?” he exclaims, eyes sparkling with curiosity. His questions encourage you to express your thoughts, and your voice bursts with excitement, filling the air with liveliness.

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

Jamil sees every detail about you — your soft-spoken nature, your subtle expressions, and especially the spark that ignites when you talk about your passions. The first time you share your thoughts on zodiac signs, he stands there, momentarily stunned by your energy. He blinks, absorbing how quickly you change into this lively version of yourself.

“There she goes again,” he murmurs, utterly endeared. A small smirk pulls at his lips as he comes to love this unfiltered side of you, the one that rarely makes an appearance. When you start to lose your train of thought, he chuckles softly, placing a reassuring hand on your back. “Take a breath, dear. I’m not going anywhere.” he says gently. When you analyze the behavior of those around you, Jamil often teases, “Careful. If you keep being so spot-on, people might start thinking you’re a sorceress.”

Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

Vil finds your shift into a passionate speaker utterly fascinating. Watching you come alive as you delve into topics like astrology and psychoanalysis fills him. Normally a quiet and gentle presence beside you, he can't help but be drawn in by the energy radiating from you.

As you lie on his bed, rambling on about everything under the sun, he listens closely, fully absorbed in your words while going through his beauty routine. Occasionally, he sets his products aside to give you his complete attention. “Don’t stop,” he encourages with a warm smile, “Your thoughts are as beautiful as the stars you describe.” Your cheeks flush at his compliment, and a warm sweeps over you. Moved by his patience.

Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚

Idia was first drawn to you because you were so composed. Unlike the loud, over-the-top people he usually ran into, your quiet nature put him at ease—no pressure, no awkward small talk, just a cozy presence. But things changed one day when he went off on a rant about character alignments—"Lawful Neutral, Chaotic Good, and all that"—and you jumped right in with some deep theories about personality types and why people behave the way they do.

He was so taken aback that it felt like his brain had almost shut down. The first time you became flustered—your words tangled and your speech speeding up as you tried to explain how astrology connects to attachment styles—Idia just stared at you, his hair glowing and huge. He didn't interrupt; instead, he leaned in closer, hugging his knees and listening intently, as if you were telling the most fascinating story he had ever heard. Idia sometimes notices you while you're completely lost in your conversation, your hands waving madly and your eyes shining — and he realizes how alive you are beneath the reserved surface.

Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚

Malleus has always been genuinely fascinated by you—a fascination that extends beyond mere curiosity. You have a quiet, reflective nature that mirrors his, resulting in an connection between the two of you. As you gradually start to share your interests, a spark ignites in his emerald green eyes, brightening his otherwise stoic demeanor. He leans in closer, his entire attention focused on your words, as if every word contains the key to unlocking another side of you.

Even when your thoughts spill out in a rush, tangled and hasty, he remains patient and engaged, nodding thoughtfully as you speak. "Please, tell me more," he said with genuine respect. "hearing you talk is like music to my ears." At times, he leaned forward, a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he asked you to explain the complexities of human psychology. His fascination with your insights into the "mortal heart" shown how much he valued your viewpoint on it

[wosospacegirl]

https://x.com/barcacomio/status/1916523453164785667

omg this is soooo kika and r coded omg even during all the chaos there's only one person they want to be with

The final whistle had barely blown before the pitch dissolved into chaos.

Blue and red flags waved from the stands, players sprinted in every direction, and the small crowd roared with the kind of electricity only a Champions League semifinal win could summon.

But even in the flood of movement and noise, Y/n’s eyes searched for only one person.

Kika.

She spotted her near the sideline, propped up on crutches, her right leg still in a brace.

She was laughing–of course she was–cheeks flushed, clutching a tiny Barça flag like she hadn’t just watched the game from the bench. Like she hadn’t spent the past weeks in physio, forcing a smile through the frustration.

Y/n groaned under her breath. She could already feel her blood pressure rising.

Unbelievable.

Without thinking, she cut across the pitch, dodging teammates and cameras until she was in front of her. Arms crossed.

Frown locked in place.

“Kika,” she said, firm and unimpressed.

Kika’s head snapped up, and for a second, her entire face lit up. Like Y/n was the only person she'd been waiting to see.

“Y/n!” she chirped. “Did we just make it to the final or what?”

Y/n didn’t respond. She was already reaching out, steadying her by the elbow. “You’re not supposed to be on the pitch.”

Kika blinked. “But--”

“You promised you would rest,” Y/n continued, narrowing her eyes at the brace. “You should be sitting down.”

“I was sitting,” Kika said sweetly. “But then you guys started winning--I got excited.”

Y/n sighed and pulled her into a careful hug, muttering, “You’re the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

Behind them, chaos spun on–flags, hugs, victory cries–but for Y/n, everything else faded away. 

Kika was here. And for now, that was all she cared about.

“You’re the one that carried us today,” Kika whispered, her voice soft, nose brushing Y/n’s cheek.

“I just did my job,” Y/n muttered, cheeks pink.

“You did a very good job, then.”

Y/n was about to grumble something sarcastic when she caught the way Kika’s expression shifted. Her lips trembled slightly. The shine in her eyes wasn’t just excitement anymore.

“Hey,” Y/n said gently. “What’s wrong?”

Kika blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s nothing. I just... I didn’t think I would get to see this. Not like this.”

Y/n’s chest tightened. She pulled her in closer.

“You should be playing,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry you can't, meu bem.”

Kika shook her head. “Don’t get mad. I’m still here. I got to see the team, you--it's just a lot to take in, I'm still very proud of you guys.”

Y/n's arms never loosened. She held her like she was afraid to let Kika go.

“You don’t have to be strong right now,” Y/n said softly, then paused, realising how stiff and clinical it sounded coming out of her mouth. Her face warmed. “I mean--crying’s allowed. Like, you have full permission. From me... I mean, you can cry, and I’ll comfort you. No panic. Totally normal.”

Kika let out a wet little laugh into her shoulder, her fingers curling tighter into the fabric of Y/n’s kit. “You’re such a robot sometimes.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n grumbled, shifting slightly to shield herself better from the press of cameras. “But I just made it to the final of the Champions League, so I think it’s ok..”

And just like that, Kika laughed again, brighter this time–but still tucked into her shoulder.

It wasn’t dramatic–it was the kind of crying that came from relief, from months of holding it all in.

“I love you,” Kika whispered.

Y/n closed her eyes, her voice barely above the noise of the crowd. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I know. Me too.”

They stood there in it, in the mess of joy and exhaustion and all the things they weren’t quite saying.

And then–

“KIKINHA!”

Y/n flinched as a familiar voice pierced the air. Her head turned slowly, almost like she already knew what was coming.

Alexia came charging toward them at full speed, eyes wide and sparkling with victory. She didn’t stop before she reached them, launching herself into a full-body hug like crutches weren’t a thing that existed.

“We did it!” Alexia shouted, practically bouncing. “I told you we would win this one for you, Kika!”

Y/n stood there, stone-faced. “Yes, of course. Ruin our moment. Thank you, Alexia.”

Alexia just grinned wider. “You’re welcome,” she said cheerfully, still latched onto both of them.

Kika laughed, still breathless, her eyes rimmed pink from crying, but so full of light. She was taking it all in.

And even Y/n, grumpy, overprotective, completely in love, couldn’t help but smile, just a little.

“This is the worst day of my life,” she muttered, hopelessly squished between a beaming Alexia and a teary, laughing Kika.

But she didn’t let go.

Not of Kika. Not for a second.

..

Sorry, this is small, I got like zero energy to write anything remotely worth reading.

[muqingslover]

I just wanted to ask you (since I saw this prompt before and I wanted to hear your take on it), in a Cherry Magic AU setting, MC can hear the thoughts of the lads men. Who do you think would have the most unhinged train of thoughts/ stream of consciousness?

I just have a feeling that Zayne would be the most surprising/unhinged since he's so calm and collected, even cold on the outside, so he has to keep a lot inside. (Or maybe I'm just biased because I'm a Zayne girlie and he's my pookie)

I absolutely love the way you write! The flow is so nice and easy to follow. Overall, it's relaxing and entertaining to read what you write!!

[ AAA THANK YOU SM FOR THE KIND FEEDBACK! it means everything to me I'm so so so glad you enjoy it! 💕🫂 I actually didn't know what Cherry Magic was but omg?! it's so cute!? I just had to do this! ]

Coming in hot in first place we have the IT boy himself.

His thoughts are not technically unhinged as they are just OVERWHELMING.

You would be having lunch and Caleb's sitting across of you like 😊 while his mind is filled with so much stuff.

'Their lips are a bit redder today...Is it because of the spice? I should tone it down next time, oh but they look so cute like that. Their eyes are all watery it's so damn cute, so cute so, so so cute— Huh? They're staring? Oh *I* am the one that's staring. Look away look away, yeah, alright, smooth.'

His thoughts are extremely noisy all. the. time. It's pretty much about everything, but especially you.

I also feel like he repeats a lot of words regarding you like he'd immediately go 'Cute, cute, cute cute cute—' when you laugh at what he said or have an internal panic if you did something to tease him 'Too close oh god— They're close, close, close, too damn close— I can feel their body warmth—'

CATCH HIS LYING ASS POOKIES, I mean ahem.

Guys this man will have the most innocent smile on his face when he claims he'd never do something and when you take a peek inside his thoughts he is most definitely thinking about doing it.

"I have no reason to steal your clothes. C'mon now pipsqueak— Yes, yes, I pinky promise I'm not messing with you this time."

'Shit shit shit shit shit. I didn't have time to wash it yet— Why are they doing laundry today anyway? They usually only do it on Friday nights.'

Second place belongs to none other than to the neighborhood freak.

Now Xavier is a mix of absolutely empty no thoughts at all to freaky ahh stuff.

He will have a nonchalant face but his thoughts? oh dear lord.

"My throat feels a bit sore because of the weather recently."

"Let's buy some cough drops for you on our way back."

'I wonder if I can still do it tonight...I wouldn't want them to hurt their throat more. Oh. If I cover their mouth shouldn't it be fine? What should I use...Wait, I should ask them later about it...........I wonder if they'll sit on my face again.....that was nice..........Kinda sleepy.'

He is also the only one of the crew that is not particularly embarrassed, freaked out or even worried that you can read his thoughts.

If anything, Xavier believes it makes communication a whole lot easier. Sometimes he's so tired that even speaking takes a lot of energy from him so being able to tell you what he wants just by touching you is an advantage.

Yes, he will absolutely think about freaky things on purpose only to see your face turning red.

I think fishie takes third place.

#Meangirl alert. /hj

Rather than it being about you it's more about his brutal honesty in general. Lord have mercy when he is grading projects from his classes.

Rafayel is someone that calculates his words (and actions) A LOT, which means this is a nightmare for him. He doesn't want you to see past the fun, sassy persona he shows you.

Especially if the subject about his past came up because then things could get real ugly, real quick.

"I would never hurt you like that, Raf."

'...That sounds like a cruel joke. You don't know that. You don't know anything about me. About us. How is this fair? How can I tell you about what you did— About what *I* had to do when you look at me like that?'

"...I know. I trust you."

You would also realize he is actually a lot more apathetic towards others than expected. The humans' opinions/ problems are simply not something he can bring himself to genuinely care about unless they affect him or you directly.

Lastly, he hums and sings A LOT in his head. Usually they're very old, beautiful songs from his homeland and it's really nice to tune in his private radio station.

Maybe controversial but this man's thoughts are clean as a whistle.

Unless he is actively doing something sexual Sylus is not thinking about anything remotely dirty.

Personally I believe his mind is quiet in general. He has an internal "To-do list" and that's what you will hear for most of the time.

'Oh, their water bottle is cracked. I should get them a new one soon. The twins' new jackets are being delivered today, that's good. It's getting colder already I don't want them to get sick again. The new supplies will need my signature so I must return before the sunrise. Tomorrow the new restaurant they mentioned opens, I'll make sure to ask them for dinner. '

On the other hand, his thoughts can also be quite vulnerable and insecure towards your relationship with him.

Almost every night when he holds you in his arms you will hear him think 'Please stay with me.' and he sounds so genuinely afraid.

You will also hear him think a looooot of 'I love you' during the day at random times. He's just a large, lovestruck puppy looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

The calmest thoughts but the cutest of all of the boys.

Like, you don't understand he's sooo damn cute.

Zayne may look like he'd rather be anywhere else but here and then you touch him and what you get is

'...I wish I had gotten the limited cat keychain from the cafe. Perhaps they'll rerun it next spring. I'll take them with me then........We could get matching ones....Well, if they agree to go with me. Or I could bring it to them as a gift, that would be nice too.'

Another one that has an mental "To-do list". During work hours he's extremely focused and his thoughts rarely, if ever, stray from what he's doing.

When with you his mind is calm (unless you're teasing this poor man because then his mind is going into OVERDRIVE.) and his internal comments are suuuuper soft and loving.

'Their hair is styled today...it looks really nice. Should I tell them? ....No, it's best not to. Hm....Oh, right. I have some leftover candy from my appointments today, I'll give them some instead.'

10/10 experience guarantee.

[cinnamoonblue]

It reminds me of you

ONE SHOT - Ryomen Sukuna/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU - fluff

SUMMARY: You want a Labubu so bad, especially the one which reminds you the most of your boyfriend, and he makes sure you get everything you want.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, pet names (princess, brat, woman), reader described as a female

WORD COUNT: 2,9K

✰ MASTERLIST ✰

NOTE: This is my first Sukuna one-shot ever, and I'm so excited. I have been wanting to start writing about him for such a long time now, and recently I finally become a Labubu mami and I love them so much and they have always reminded me so much of him so I had to write this. I hope you have fun reading this short one-shot with Sukuna as your mean, rude and grumpy man to the world, but being the most carrying and sweetest boyfriend to you. I know that for a lot of you this might not be the most correct take/description of modern day Sukuna, but low-key I think that he will be a big softy for his girl. ♡ Enjoy reading ♡

!PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF SUKUNA IS IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

It all started when one day you saw a TikTok of some girl unboxing something called Labubu. The moment you saw the fluffy small monster you fell in love with it and wanted one immediately. Sadly, when you checked the website where they sell them everything was sold out.

Since that day, your boyfriend has been hearing about these so called Labubus all the time. Sukuna, being Sukuna of course, doesn’t get the hype behind them and thinks that they are just a waste of money, but you choose to ignore him and his opinion.

Tonight is Friday, surprisingly both of you have it off today from both your university and the part time jobs you have, so you have decided to just stay home and do nothing. Ordering a takeaway from the nearest ramen shop closest to your apartment, you two eat your dinner while doing your own stuffs – you snuggled up in bed watching your favorite series, while Sukuna is playing games with his friends on his computer.

Your boyfriend seems to be losing as you can hear him loud and clearly cussing out his opponents and friends, but you don’t pay much attention to it as you are quite use to this type of behavior from him.

You and Sukuna are very different as people. When you started dating two years ago it came as a surprise to everyone around you. While you are more of a layback, nice and open person, Sukuna is a menace. He is rude, he is mean, he is eighty percent of the time grumpy, and he is probably the biggest cocky asshole a person can be or meet - is what everyone will say if you ask them about your salmon haired boyfriend. What they don’t know is that they are right, but also very wrong. He is all this and even more, the list with his bad sides and qualities is quite long. What they don’t know is that your boyfriend is also the most carrying, loving and sweet boyfriend any girl in this world would dream about, but only you get the chance to call him yours.

To this day you are the only person who he has let to know him on such a deeper level. Even his closes friends, Uraume and Toji, had never seen how sweet and carrying Sukuna could be until they met you, which leaded to a lot of teasing and messing around with him from his friends, but even when it seemed like he couldn’t stand it when they do it, from the inside Sukuna didn’t really care. As long as his girl is happy, he is willing to do the best he can, so you never feel unloved or cared about.

As they night continued you have switched from watching your favorite show to scrolling on TikTok. Tonight is a very important night for you as Labubu is having a big restocking and all you want is to get your hands on two boxes – one for you and one for your boyfriend.

Even though Sukuna doesn’t like or see the hype behind them, they remind you so much of him, and because of it you want to match with your boyfriend and get him one as well.

You know that you can’t keep yourself awake till four in the morning when the release will be so instead you put alarms to wake yourself up. Getting up from the bed before you fall asleep, you go to Sukuna who is still playing and wrap your hands around him.

“I’m going to sleep now.” You say to him as you place kisses all over his face while his eyes are focused on the game he is currently playing. “Are you coming to bed soon?”

Cussing out one more time as his team loses, he takes his headphones down and turns to you. Taking your face in the palms of his hands, he pulls you closer to him as he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss you share is both aggressive and gentle at the same time, but you don’t mind.

“No, princess. All because someone doesn’t know how to play.” He says to the mic attached to the headphones from which you can hear Toji’s voice complaining about Sukuna and his skills.

You laugh when you see your boyfriend’s grumpy face and kiss his lips one more time. “Don’t take too long.” You tell him as you wish him and Toji goodnight.

Your alarm rings at exactly three fifty-eight in the morning, but in your sleepy state you turn it off and roll to the side hoping that you will find your boyfriend next to you but instead you are met with an empty bed. Sitting up in bed you open your eyes and see him still on his computer talking quietly, probably still with Toji, making sure not to wake you up.

Grabbing your phone to see what time it is, the realization hits you. The Labubu drop. It is tonight and it is happening right now. Unlocking your phone and typing the website you breathe out for a second as you see that it is loading so you still have the chance to have your hands on two boxes, after all you are just a minute late after four.

“No, no, no, no.” You scream in despair as the website crashes. This makes your boyfriend immediately turn around and look at you. Seeing you whining and hitting the pillows in the bed with all the power you have in you, he takes his headphones off and gets up from his gaming chair.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Getting in bed and wrapping his arms around you he pulls you closer to his big define with muscles body.

“I failed.” You cry as your turn towards him, burying your head in his naked chest and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Looking down at you Sukuna raises one brow. What have you failed exactly? You have already passed the last exam you had, so what it could be you failed so badly at four in the morning?

“What are you talking about?” His voice deep as always makes you look up at him.

“The Labubu war. I failed getting us Labubus.” Crying out dramatically, you bury your face again in his chest.

“Woman, are you fucking crazy?” He can’t believe that this whole scene is all about some overpriced kid’s toy. “You can’t be serious. All this at four am, for some ugly ass toy?”

Pulling away from him, you give him an offended look. “How could you call Labubu ugly?” You try to push him away from you, but this is impossible. This man is at least five times your size if anything you made things worse, as he pulls you to lay down with him.

“They are, princess.” His arms tighten around you even more as you gasp when he offended your little obsession again.

“No, Kuna they are not.” You protest once again as you try to escape your boyfriend’s deadly grip. “They are extremely cute, and you have no idea how much I want to get us some.”

“Why you keep saying us?” Easing his grip a bit he looks at you once again with confusion and a bit of irritation written all over his face.

“Because I want to get one for you as well, so we can match.” Propping on one arm on the bed you move your body a bit sideways to Sukuna’s in a way that you can balance it as you start running the fingers of your other hand through his soft salmon pink locks.

“I’m not carrying this ugly ass toy anywhere.” A makeshift of a mocking laughter escapes past his lips as he can’t believe that you want to get him one as well, even when you know that he doesn’t like them.

“You were going to put it in your car as a car charm.” Grabbing a bit of his hair in a fist you pull it playfully, making him hiss a bit from it.

“Oh, so you already decided where I’ll put it.” He playfully rolls his eyes as you nod at him.

“You know, I don’t know if I have mentioned, but they remind me of you so much.” Pushing yourself up with one hand, you cross one leg over his body and now you are sitting on top of him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.  

“These monster looking things?”

“Yes, Kuna. These monster looking things.” You reply with a smile as you bend your body closer to him, your faces now millimeters apart. “Because they seem evil and mean from the outside, but they are actually super nice, and sweet, and cute.” With every word you say, you place a kiss on his lips. His grumpy face doesn’t change much, but you know him very well and you know that he enjoys what you are doing. “Should I stop?”

Giving you a warning look with his dark crimson eyes, you just laugh at him as you continue to kiss his lips. “I’m not cute.” He murmurs in between your kisses.

“Sure, Sukuna. Sure.” You whisper with a smile.

It has been a week since that night. You have promised yourself that you will get Labubu no matter what next time they drop, but the problem is that it won’t be any time soon. You have found a lot of resellers in your city, but the prices they sell them for are crazy and as much as you want one for you and your boyfriend you won’t spent that much money on it.

Coming home from a long shift from work and a long day from lectures all you want is to take a hot shower and snuggle up in bed. Sukuna is working tonight as well, but you don’t know when he will be home. The nightclub he works at doesn’t close until five in the morning and even if you text him, he won’t be able to response, so all you can do is guess when he might be back.

After taking your hot shower before bed your whole body feels a bit relaxed, but it is still crying for sleep. Instead of putting on pajamas, you go for one of your boyfriend’s T-shirts. The moment you put it on, you hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Walking out of the bedroom you are met with your tired boyfriend’s face. “Hey, Kuna.” You say as you go to him and wrap your arms around him. “Why home so early?”

“It was slow. They can manage without me.” He grunts as he pulls away a bit but still holds you in his arms. “I have something for you, brat.” He tells you, giving you a tired, cocky smile, the one you love so much.

You can’t help but smile. This is the real Sukuna for you, the one only you have the privilege to see - grumpy, but carrying; tired, but still very loving.

Nodding with his head, Sukuna leads you to your living room, and you both sit on the sofa. Taking his black backpack from his bag he tells you to close your eyes, and you do exactly what he tells you to do. You can hear him unzipping the bag and then taking something out of it, pulling it on the table. “Okay, open them now.”

Opening your eyes, you look at the coffee table and see what is on top of it. Gasping loudly, your eyes widen, and you can help but happily stomp with your legs on the floor. Two Labubu boxes. He got you not one, but two Labubu boxes as you wanted. “Sukuna… you… how?”

“I have my ways.” He smirks at you.

The excitement in your voice fills up the room and you can’t help but throw yourself in your boyfriend’s body. “I love you, Kuna. I love you so much.”

Wrapping his arms around your body and rolling his eyes as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, he murmurs. “Yea, yea. Me too, brat.”

Pulling away from him you give him a quick kiss on the lips before you take the boxes in your hand.

“They are not from the two different collections, one of them is the one you wanted the most, so…” Hearing this you are not surprised. He might be grumpy and seems like he doesn’t always pay attention to what you are saying, but Sukuna always listens. Of course, he has heard, and against his will, remembers all the things you have said about this stupid keychain of toys. He knows which collection you want the most, and which color you wanted, but he has managed to find only one box from it, but he hopes you like the other one as well.

“Okay, let’s open the macaron one first.” You excitedly say, as you closed your eyes and started to open the box. “I really want the pink one.”

Sukuna can’t help but smile. You are adorable. Not only now when you are all excited as a little kid about some toy, but in general. He will be lying if he says that he doesn’t love this childish side of yours. He adores it. He adores everything about you.

Finally, opening the box and the small package the Labubu is in it, you open your eyes. “Oh my, Kuna, look how cute it is.” You coo at the grey Lububu in your hands, pulling it closer to you in a hug.

“But it’s not pink.” Sukuna comments as he takes it from your hands to observe it better, still not understanding the hype.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s still super cute.” Reaching for the other box, you take a better look at it, before you open it. It is the ‘Have a Seat’ edition, the other one you wanted the most, because here is the Labubu that reminds you the most of Sukuna and you are praying to be it in the box.

Doing the exact same blind opening as you did with the first box, you take a deep breath before opening your eyes. You not only scream, but also jumped from excitement, which made Sukuna flinch in surprise.

“Calm down, woman. You’ll wake the neighbors up.”

“Baby, oh my, Kuna. Kuna, look!” You excitedly start to jump on one spot on the sofa, your excitement through the roof, because you have got the one you want the most. The salmon pink one, with red eyes with heart shapes in them. Your own Labubu Sukuna. “I got you in Labubu version.”

Turning the Labubu, towards him, Sukuna just rolls his eyes. It looks nothing like him. He is a tall, big, scary for some people man, not a pink furry monster keychain. “It looks nothing like me.” He grunts.

“Yes, it does, Kuna.” You pull him closer for a kiss. “Thank you. You made me so happy tonight.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, you also wrap your arms around him.

“Only tonight?” He slightly tilts his head to take a better look at you.

“A bit more, than usual.” You reply.

Two weeks later you, Sukuna and Toji went out for a few drinks. Sukuna didn’t drink tonight, because he has decided to go out with his car, and right now he is the only sober one, he has to drag you and Toji to where he has parked.

“Come on, get in asshole.” He tells Toji as he tries to get him to sit in the back seat of the car. Once he gets Toji to get in the car, he closes the door and gets to the driver’s seat.

“The fuck is this mouse hanging on the mirror?” Toji laughs from the back of the car as he points towards Sukuna’s grey Labubu hanging on the rear-view mirror.

“This is Labubu.” You turn around to look at Toji as you explain to him what Labubu is and you show him your salmon pink one, placed in a little car basket on the air conditioner on your side.

On your way to Toji’s place he heard everything about Labubu, and the story of how you got them. “It was last week when we went to the mall and bought them their outfits and the car seat.” You happily squeak as you take look at your Labubus. Your Labubu is dressed in a cute pink outfit, and Sukuna’s wears a black robbery mask, with a silver and gold chain around its neck and a gun in one hand.

“We are here. Now get out before you throw up in my car.” Sukuna turns to Toji as he parked in front of his place. He knows that from tomorrow Toji won’t stop making fun of him, all because of this stupid toy.

Before Toji gets out of the car, he pats Sukuna on the shoulder and leans closer to tell him something, which you don’t catch. “Aren’t you a big softy, Kuna?” Without giving Sukuna a chance to response, Toji is out of the car, as he knows how to piss his best friend off the best – call him weak for you and use the nickname only you can call him.

“What did he say?” You ask once you two are alone and Sukuna starts the engine again.

“That Labubu sucks.”

END NOTE: I hope you really liked this short one-shot. Sukuna is one of my most favorite anime men (I have only two most favorite men lol) and this is the first time ever I write something about him, so every criticism about it will be appreciated, as I plan to write a lot more about him in the future. If you liked this feel free to like, comment, reblog or message me ♡ Thank you for reading it ♡♡♡

writing, format, header © cinnamoonblue & dividers by © cinnamoonblue and @bernardsbendystraws ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[ms-demeanor]

thoughts on using library computers to disguise your digital footprint? because if the machine gets wiped when you log out, and the library doesn't keep detailed records of what machine you were using when, then all someone else would have is IP data unconnected to a person and also mixed in with whatever else folks were doing on the library computers

The machine absolutely does not get wiped when you log out and there's very little chance that a library computer will let you fire up Tor. You're better off using a traffic anonymizer than you are trying to use public computers to cover your tracks. The IP address IS the big risk here.

Libraries are generally really good about protecting their patrons' privacy and I respect the hell out of them for that but computers log everything that you do and can be subpoenaed as evidence even if the library wants to protect user privacy.

Also, I love libraries but you should treat every public computer you come across like it has a keylogger installed on it because it might. Your city could have an overzealous city council that has more control than it should over the library board and has taken it upon themselves to add covenanteyes to the library computers. Your library crew could be fantastic but less tech-savvy than is ideal and may not realize it if malware is installed on one of the machines. The library may clear browser history twice a day but the ISP still has a record of where you went and what time you went there. Somebody could have literally plugged a keylogger into a USB port on the back of the machine.

The point of a traffic anonymizer is it hides where the traffic originated; each node knows where the previous hop came from and where the next hop went, but not what came BEFORE the previous hop or what happened after, or how long the chain was, so there is no way to tell if a message originated in the US or Brazil or Vietnam or Sweden. Sending traffic from a library does the opposite of this, and very clearly says "the person who sent this message did so from this geographic area; they sent messages from these five libraries so we know they're probably within X distance of these libraries" which is a hell of a lot easier to look for than "I can't even say what continent these messages originated from."

Let us say that you go to a library to log in to your protonmail account and email a journalist a link to a file that you've saved in cryptpad. You have the link written down so you don't have to go to a secondary site and you just go sit down directly at the computer and log in to protonmail and fire off your email to the journalist. The email is encrypted, so you know the contents of the email are safe. Let's say the browser history gets automatically wiped every time you close it, and you close it as soon as you stand up and walk away. Here's the incriminating information that generated:

IP address where you accessed your protonmail account

Your protonmail email address, the journalist's address, the time you sent the email, the subject line of the email

And here are the people who can be subpoenaed to share some or all of that information with the government:

The Library's ISP

The Library, who may not carefully track users but who do have event logs on the computers and traffic logs on the firewall

Protonmail

IF you only ever logged in to your protonmail account from that ISP one time, and if you've never logged in to your protonmail account anywhere that is close to your house or your job, you may be fine. But if you logged in to your protonmail on your personal cellphone at work so that you could send photos of documents to yourself, there's some data tying that account to a local IP address. If you set up the protonmail account on a whim at a coffee shop, there's some data tying that account to a local IP address. If you get an email back from the journalist and go to another local library to open it, there's some data tying that account to another local IP address.

And that gets narrowed down very quickly. "Who has access to these sensitive and leak-worthy documents through working at this entity who also lives within a 100 mile radius of these three login locations? Is it 50 people? Is it 5 people? Of the 15 people who have access to these sensitive and leak-worthy documents who work at this entity and live within 100 miles of the three login locations, who is likely to be doing the leaking? Do we fire them all? Do we interview them? Do we compare IP addresses that they've used to log in to work remotely and find that two of them have logged in at the coffee shop? Of those two, one has facebook selfies in a maga hat and the other has a less visible online presence. Let's check their traffic history. Did they check tumblr on a lunch break? Maybe once or twice? Maybe a few times? Sure seems like they are pretty dead-set against the administration. Let's double-check the access logs for this information. Let's review security footage. Let's install the monitoring on their workstation."

The thing is, they're not going to catch you leaking and then track down all the data you left behind to confirm it; they're going to see a leak and get a bunch of digital footprints and use that to narrow down suspect pools. They already know that access to the data is limited and will be reviewing prior access and carefully monitoring future access. You are already in their suspect pool by already being one of the people with known access to the data. Adding an IP address that is geographically close to you, even if it isn't your home IP address, to that is not going to make it *harder* to find you, it can only make it easier.

So just use Tor. You're safer using an anonymizer, which you likely can't do on a library computer. Create the leak email address when you're in a Tor browser, and only EVER access that email account from Tor.

Also I don't mean to jump on you about this, but between the post I've got about why you shouldn't use your work computer to torrent and the safer leaking practices post it's clear that people really don't understand what information they're leaving behind when they use computers and the internet, or how it can be a risk to them.

Accessing burner accounts from a clear IP address means that they're not burner accounts anymore, they're burned.

[hopeful-engineer]

Ok, I have a story about that. A guy I met at my first job. He was an electrical engineer, like me, but had much more experience, despite still being quite young, because he got his first job just after high school and then started studying part-time in college. He was extremely intelligent and a true expert, but he also had a huge sense of superiority. He was often sarcastic and just blatantly rude, talking about other people and how "stupid" he thought they were. At that time, I was a total rookie, a recent graduate, so obviously there were a lot of things I had yet to learn. Every time I talked with this man, he'd ask me something out of a sudden, to check my knowledge and these often were trick questions. To make matters worse, when I answered, he'd hardly ever like my answers. He'd find even the smallest mistakes in what I said and criticize me because of them. So, every time I talked with him, I was more and more stressed. Eventually he stressed me to the point, where I stopped saying anything. Then, he basically told me, that I wasn't suitable to be an engineer (not exactly in these words, but that was the meaning). If it happend now, I'd probably laugh at him and response with something as rude as he said. I'm not so easily hurt anymore. Actually I've become a bit cynical myself, although I'm working on having a more positive view of the world again. But back then, I was more sensitive and since the guy was an expert, I actually believed him, and was extremely sad and hurt. I really thought I wasn't smart enough to be an electrical engineer and since I couldn't imagine doing anything else, I came to the conclusion, that I wasn't good for anything. I thought I was a total failure. And when talking about bitternes and apathy, this was one of the situations, that made me bitter and apathetic for a long time. Long story short, I'm still an electrical engineer and now I work in gas turbines industry. I'm doing something I'm passionate about and obviously I don't think I'm not smart enough for this anymore, but it took me some time before I started believing in myself again and became more self confident. So yes, especially when interacting with someone young and inexperienced, praise the progress and avoid unnecessary criticism. Don't be this guy. Don't ruin someone else's self esteem just because you feel superior. I've recovered from this stronger (but also more cynical), but for someone more sensitive, it may be permanent damage. They may get discouraged forever and never believe in themselves again.

Hot take but praise is a good tool for encouraging healthy behavior. Positive reinforcement is good. Relying exclusively on punishment to change people's behavior is both cruel and ineffective. If someone does better than they did yesterday, let them know you appreciate it, let them know that they're improving!

[babydoll372]

Birthday Girl

Pairings: nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

Word count: 1591

Warnings: natasha is intersex (she has a penis), blowjobs, nat is inexperienced but not a virgin, nude Polaroids, masturbation (r), both are in college, a little angst, begging, cum eating

Natasha waited impatiently on her dorm bed, constantly glancing to the door to see if she missed a knocking sound. But then it finally came and she rushed over, opening it in a hurry and smiling wide as she saw you, and rocking back and forth between her toes and her heels.

“Happy birthday, my sweet girl!” You drew her in for a hug, rubbing her back with the hand not holding her gift. She held you even tighter, you had no idea how excited she was to see you. She saw you every few days, and each of them were her favorite, but this one was special. She had been alone all day, and considering she had a private dorm didn’t help with her loneliness at times. She wasn’t popular in college, she focused on her studies instead of going to parties or making friends, but that always seemed to outcast her, which led to having no one around to celebrate her special day. She went to her classes, and only one professor wished her a happy birthday. She got a text from you, her parents, a few friends back home, and her sister, but it didn’t feel complete until she got to hear you saying it.

“Thank you! I missed you a lot today, you know.” She exclaimed, slowly letting go of you and leaning back to look down at you, you were absolutely beautiful, she thought, the best birthday gift she could ever have. You frowned playfully and stood on your tippy toes to kiss her cheek before replying.

“I missed you too- so, so much! But now we get to spend the entire night together, aren’t you excited?” She nodded quickly, almost enough to make her glasses fall off as you chuckled, fixing them for her. You went over to the bed and Natasha mindlessly followed you, sitting with her legs crossed just like you while facing you. She stares at the bag excitedly, fidgeting with the ends of her cardigan sweater as it was placed in front of her.

“Can I open it yet?” She asked, not wanting to get scolded for opening it too soon. You agreed and she quickly threw the tissue paper aside, commenting on how beautiful the gift bag was firstly, and then getting to the first gift. “This is so cool! Thank you!” She looked at the large pack of books of the series she’s been waiting to finish on her game first before getting the books herself, then leaned over to give you a large hug and a kiss. Anytime she could, she’d give you a kiss, just so she could feel your lips on hers.

Next were the usual dorm supplies needed to be updated, and she once again thanked you for every single one. Then the Lego set she’s been dying to build with you, and when she was ready to just break it open and build it with you right then and there, you had to stop her and tell her there was more left. She found a little baggie that must’ve fallen to the bottom and picked it up, and before she could open it, you put your hand over hers.

“I just want you to know these are meant for you and only you, I ask that you hide them. And, uhm…I don’t do this often so I hope you like them, I guess.” Your words of worry made her furrow her eyebrows and quickly agree to your terms, but then open the bag to reveal 6 different Polaroids. She adjusted her glasses to see them better and her eyes widened as she saw multiple provocative photos.

“Holy crap…I-..you- you look- wow.” She was blushing heavily, giggling to herself as she kept them close to her chest to look through them again and again, and you rolled your eyes playfully at her childish behavior.

“Which one are you looking at?”

“Uhm, it’s- it’s you naked in front of the mirror with your hand, uh, you know where.”

“You want to see it in real life?” She quickly looked up from the photos, her jaw dropping wide open in shock as she could only fathom a small nod and eventually the muttering of a few words.

“Yes please.” You swore you could see drool as you dropped to no layers and kneeled in front of her, asking her to lick your fingertips before bringing your hand to your clit and softly rubbing circles. You took your free hand and palmed her growing erection, humming as she whimpered at your touch.

“Tell me what you want, birthday girl.” You spoke in a low, seductive tone as she couldn’t form words, and she could only glance between your beautiful cunt and her palmed cock hidden behind her pants. “I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what you want, Natasha. Cmon, be a good girl for me, baby.” She gulped down her moan and nodded, desperately trying to give you what you wanted but knowing she would feel the utmost of embarrassment.

“I-…mphm, I want to have, uhm, I want to try something I saw before-“ She was cut off with yet another quiet moan, her hips thrusting into your hand ever so slightly.

“Yeah? What did you see before, tell me.” You let out an accidental groan, your fingers moving slightly faster amongst your clit as you could feel arousal pooling out of you.

“It was a blowjob…you don’t have to do it, I just would really like to try it for my birthday, if you don’t mind.” She mustered up the courage to get out the words, and almost instantly felt as though she regretted them, only to see your lips turn up into a sly smirk. You slowly removed your hand from your aching clit, promising yourself to return as you reached into the gift bag and gently placed a crown on Natasha’s head that read, ‘birthday girl’. You grinned and leaned in to sloppily kiss her, not wasting much time before trailing down to her crotch where you quickly pulled down her pants and boxers and salivated at the sight of her thick, hard cock. You eagerly wrapped your lips around the head, making her gasp at the feeling while your tongue swirled around, collecting her pre cum with a moan that vibrated through her.

“Oh fuck..p-please..” She didn’t know what she was begging for exactly, but she knew she wanted more of whatever she felt right now. She could feel more of her cock being enveloped by your warm, sweet mouth and placed a hand over her lips to quiet her gutterful noises, but as you glanced up to see this, you didn’t take it lightly and let her go with a slight pop and took her hand in yours.

“Don’t you dare think about hiding those pretty noises from me, sweetheart. I don’t care if the entire dormitory hears you- fucking let them.” You took her hand and let it to your head and her other soon followed when you returned to your previous position. A tear fell from her eye as the pleasure overtook her, and all she could imagine was your tongue replaced by your sweet, warm walls as you rode her, letting her cum inside you as a birthday treat. Your tongue was heavenly, but everything seemed to remind her of her lack of experience so far, yet luckily the desire was too great for her to even think or worry about anything else.

“That feels so- shit! That feels so good, right there, baby, please right there!” She moaned breathlessly, her stomach heaving up and down as her breaths were shallow and unobtained. She watched your head bob and her hands guide you, even if they were doing little in the matter, and couldn’t help but feel pure ecstasy.

“I’m- oh, please! Please, please, please, you’re gonna make me cum! I- I want to cum, I really wanna cum..” She brought out a whisper into the hot, sex-filled air. She knew you’d let her when she was ready, but she was absolutely petrified of the thought of her seed filling you without your worded consent.

“Baby, I- I can’t hold..mmph! I can’t hold it much longer- I wanna cum for you- please let me cum in your mouth for you, I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” She nodded to herself eagerly, swearing she’d be good for you like she always wanted to be, that felt like her main priority in life. She watched you shake your head yes, making her instantly release without being able to hold back, and loud whimpers filled the air as your name was repeated, her glasses foggy and her mind reeling. She didn’t know how she lasted that long, usually she lasted two minutes of your touch, tonight it had to have been longer, right? She watched your head come up after her cock went limp and her juices emptied, and she felt something in her stir as she saw your lips still covered.

“You dirty girl, your cum got all over me…cmon, clean up your mess.” She nervously leaned in and licked your lips, feeling you turn it into a kiss as she could taste herself on you for the first time, and she enjoyed it. She cleaned you dry, making sure there was no trace of her left on you as you leaned back, cupping her cheeks with a soft grin now.

“Happy birthday, Natasha.”