#sometimes i just have to not think so hard about it
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dry humping with abby aka car sex 2.0
nsfw, fxf smut. dry humping, boob stuff, scratching and pulling. just quick and freaky.
wc : 1.100
âyeah, just like that baby, fuck- show me how much you want it.â
look, you didn't start the day thinking you'd be dry humping your girlfriend into the driver's seat of her car until you were both breathless, but sometimes things like this just happen.
it was no fault of either of yours, anyway. you were equally dedicated to your studies as you were to each other, even holding hour-long study dates every thrusday that you'd yet to miss in months. but with finals just around the corner, both of you were strung thin, barely having the time to greet each other on the phone, let alone spend some quality time together.
so, of course, that had both of you very pent up. you were both studious, yes, but that didn't mean you didn't rock each other's worlds on the frequent occasion. but for the past three weeks, all you've gotten were rushed moments in the dead of night with your moans shared over a phone, hands aching with the force of your thrusts, and hearts aching at the shared sadness of not having your girlfriend there to soothe the ache for you.
so the second you finish your last final, you truly didn't have only sex on the brain when you told abby to pick you up afterwards, ready to spend the rest of the evening in the comfort of her bed and arms as you caught up over everything else that had happened in your lives recently.
but after stopping for some quick dinner and snacks at a store, you can't pretend to ignore how her large hand rests on your thigh, fingers inching higher and higher the closer she gets to her apartment. all it takes is a flutter of your lashes and a throaty moan before the blonde covers your entire cunt through your panties with her hand. and all it takes is a whimper and a buck of your hips before her other hand is roughly serving the steering wheel, finding an empty parking lot and parking the car near the back, away from the streets and any prying eyes that could witness what was going to happen.
it's rough and fast how she grabs you, unbuckling your seat belt for you and literally picking you up from underneath your thighs and dropping you in her lap, cutting off your surprised cackle with her lips crashing into yours.
âabs, fuck, abby-â
âi know, baby, god, i missed you-â she groans into your mouth, a large palm coming up to the back of your neck, pushing and gripping like she mesh the two of you together is she tries hard enough. it's not like you're any better, hands in a similar position on her bare shoulders and scratching at the freckled skin to draw more whines from her throat.
it's not even a few minutes before the sloppy make-out session isn't enough for you anymore, desperation taking hold as your hips start to grind down into hers, the friction of your jeans pushing into your clit sending pleasurable shocks throughout your entire body. abbys hand travels from your neck down to your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt while her other hand anchors itself on your hip for leverage as she grinds herself up and into you.
seeing abby below you, writhing and panting as her head drops back onto the seat, adorable blue eyes lidded as they stare up at you on top of her only makes you feel hotter, hands rushing down to tear off your shirt to alleviate the heat and so that she can fully grasp your tits in her hand.
âgod, you wanted this to happen, huh?â abby breathes, voice light as she takes notice of your very braless chest.
âsays the one about to cum in her pants, ohhhh-â your rebuttal is cut off with a drawn out moan traveling up and out of your throat, head tilting back when abbyâs mouth wraps around one of your nipples and starts to bite.
she always reacted when you talked back to her.
it's almost like a challenge to see who can bring the other over faster, with abby continuing her sucking and biting on your chest as you continue to scratch at her arms and pull at her hair. it's when her palm sneaks its way down to your behind and squeezes before giving it a harsh smack that you realize you're close to release, deciding some near-orgasm rambles are just going to have to do the job.
âabby, abby, feels sâ good, you make me feel so fucking good-â
âyeah? you like that, beautiful?â her voice is strained, hips bucking at an angle that you know feels just right on her oh so sensitive clit, her freckles barely visible with the intensity of her flush.
âyeah. missed you, missed your talking, your kisses, your fingersâŚâ
âohh, shit, nghh- babyâŚâ
using the last bit of un-fucked out intelligence you have left, you wrap a hand around her wrist and yank her hand up to your mouth, keeping eye contact as you envelop two of her thick fingers into your mouth.
âmissed having you inside me, absy.â
your shared orgasms are a quick sequence of intense events, abbyâs moaning combined with her fingers thrusting deeper into your mouth triggering your own muffled cries as you use that last bit of energy to keep humping until youâre thoroughly satisfied.
when it ends, you're left lying on her chest, bodies at a slightly odd angle as she pushes the seat back as far as she can to make space for you without removing her skin from touching yours. after a minute of catching your breaths, you look up at her with your chin rested on her chest.
âguess we were a little pent up, huh?â
she laughs, a breathy and sweet sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. âyeah, guess you could say that. someone seemed to enjoy it, though.â
âoh please, my throat is still sore because someone got a little too excited at the end there.â
âoh yeah?â
you don't get a chance to respond before you're somehow being lifted and placed in the backseat of the car, abbyâs frame placed above you as her hands rest on either side of your head.
âthen itâd only make sense if i made some other parts of your sore then, yeah?â
#yeah#finally got a new phone i can type without worrying about slicing my fingers#tlou#tlou x reader#abby#abby anderson#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby x you#tlou2
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No Man's Land Part 3
Jack Abbot x F!Reader
You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here!
25.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: mentions of blood, mentions of guns/shootings/gunshot wounds, mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, CPR, mentions of jack's injury and losing his foot, anxiety about partner's safety, angst (kind of), very emotional, probably incorrect description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, reader wears Jackâs clothes, self-hate, Robby has been to therapy, fighting/arguing (no raised voices), unprotected PIV sex (BC implied with their committed relationship), allusions to sex and oral sex, discussion of end of life wishes, descriptions of nightmares, discussion of someone dying in front of reader, panic attacks, vomiting (very brief, not reader), discussion of scars/wounds, grief, mention of UTI, myrna, reader likes candles, Jack is the best, I had this idea and started drafting before we knew Jack was a widow so in this world he has never been married, no use of y/n or related, not really proofread.
Summary: Healing is hard. Emotions abound. Somehow life goes on. [Author continues to suck at summaries.]
AN: I am so sorry this took so long đ
The vignettes have a bit of a different feel here because the way we are moving through time is much different and on a larger scale. But each vignette 'happened' before the scene it precedes. Part 4 is already like 75% of the way done so it will not be as long of a wait, I promise đ I know some wanted it all at once and I'm sorry it isn't, but I can offer as an apology the fact that because we're getting another part we're getting more content both in Part 3 and in Part 4!! Also I promise Quiet Part 2 is next up after Part 4. Thank you all so much for your patience and support and for reading!! Your replies and likes and reblogs mean so so much to me and I know we're all busy so I really appreciate you taking the time to read whatever it is I do here âĽď¸
After the housewarming party, life is good. You and Jack are still home together while you recover, in love and soaking each other in and planning France and dreaming out loud about your wedding. And healing. Individually and together.Â
Things get harder though.
Youâre both in therapy, yes, but youâve been through a lot in the last month and a bit, and an hour a week only does so much. Youâre both struggling, struggling a little harder now that the kind of honeymoon period of you getting home from the hospital has passed.Â
You and Jack talk about it sometimes, about how things feel harder in a way all of the sudden now that youâre not focusing on being home finally and getting your place painted and all moved into. You think itâs just because you have lost some of that distraction. The reality of what happened starts to sink in deeper. Especially because things are ostensibly returning to normal but not really.Â
Because normal isnât being at home together while youâre recovering. Youâre back to that hospital feeling of waiting. Waiting for you to recover enough for the next step to get taken. Jack going back to work. You going back to work. The return of your true new normal.Â
So things get a little harder, emotions more intense. Some days it feels like you guys are taking more steps backward than forward. But youâre taking those steps in whatever direction together and you have each other and are in love and thatâs all either of you need at the end of the day. Each other and your love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Itâs day four.Â
Four days now youâve been in a coma. Four days with no signs of waking up soon, even after they weaned you off the meds that had been keeping you under to help you heal. No twitch of your fingers or toes, no flutter of your eyelashes, no little grunt, no breathing over the vent. Nothing. Just you laying there in a hospital bed. Technically still alive and with him, but are you really?
Jack stretches out. He hasnât left the hospital since you got shot. Literally has not set foot out of the building, hasnât gone to the roof or out into the ambulance bay or gone through the main doors to stand on the street.Â
Dana brought him in clothes and toiletries. She brought some for you too, telling Jack that youâd want them as soon as you were awake. Half of Jack wanted to scream at her for tempting fate like that, now that she brought them there would be no use for them because youâd never wake up.Â
And half of him wanted to just sob into her because he knows that as much as she did bring them for you, she brought them for him. To give him the option of smelling like you, or just smelling your shampoo to smell you for a second. To give him a shirt of yours to keep near his head when he tries to get an hour of sleep. It helped once. He was actually able to grab a couple of hours.Â
Itâs not the same though, because those products havenât mixed with your body chemistry to become the unique scent that is you. But itâs better than nothing. Because until Dana had brought it in for him heâd forgotten what you smelled like.Â
Heâd forgotten what you sounded like too. The sound of your voice, the way you say his name. The way you say you love him. Your laugh. He just couldnât hear it in his head. He cracked on day three and listened to a voicemail you left him, watched a video of the two of you that youâd taken one day. It was comforting to be able to remember what you sound like and what you look like when you smile, to have those little pieces of you back in his mind. But it was also a devastating reminder of what he might lose.Â
Your things, the voicemails youâve left him and the videos and photos youâve taken together might be all he really has left of you at the end of this. The realization had made him dry heave a little.
Robby walks in as Jack is stretching, hands him a coffee and a brown bag. Breakfast. âYou have to eat if you want the coffee or else itâs just going to shoot up your heart rate and give you more anxiety.â
Jack looks at him almost blankly as he sits down in the chair on the other side of your bed across from Jack. âIâm still a doctor, you know?â The words hit Jack. âA fucking shitty one apparently. I canât even fix her. This shit is what I do and Iâve saved so many people but the one fucking person who actually matters.�� Jack shakes his head. âAnd nothing.âÂ
Robby cocks his head at him. âNo doctor could fix this Jack. Sheâs in a coma. Youâre making sure she gets the best care possible. Thatâs all anyone could do for her right now, doctor or not.âÂ
Jack waves Robby off, takes a sip of the coffee but makes no move for the bag. It earns him a look from Robby that he ignores. They sit in silence for a bit. Itâs hard to come up with things to say. But Robby knows Jack needs to start thinking about it. Itâs still very far down the line but itâll be better for him to start thinking and coming to terms with it now, Robby thinks. Â
âJack.â Jack pulls his eyes off you and over to Robby. âHave you thought about what youâre going to do?â
Deep down Jack knows exactly what Robbyâs question means. But he doesnât let himself go there. He canât. Robby will have to spell it out for him. âWhat Iâm going to do about what?â
âWhat youâre going to do if down the line she heals physically but doesnât wake up?â Robby says quietly, as though saying it lower will make it somehow less painful, pull less of a reaction from Jack.Â
âWhat the fuck is that? Why the fuck would you even bring that up?â Jack snaps at him. While you were awake after surgery youâd signed a healthcare proxy giving Jack the authority to make treatment and end of life decisions for you. It had been just in case. Better to have it because then you would never need it right? Wrong. âWeâre so the fuck far away from that. Sheâs not even healed. You and Dana are the ones that keep saying âitâs only been four days Jack give her timeâ and now youâre coming at me with this bullshit?â
âIâm not coming at you with anything. Just asking a question because maybe itâs better to start preparing now for something youâll never have to do than to be unprepared.â Robby shrugs.Â
Jack doesnât say anything, just looks back at you. He scoots his chair closer so that he can hold your hand. Youâre just so goddamn still. Itâs unnatural. Even the way you breathe is, itâs mechanical. Chest rising and falling in time with the clicks of the vent.Â
âI know that I donât really know her, Jack, and certainly donât know her well. But just from the little bit of time I have been able to get to know her I donât think sheâd want this Jack. Not indefinitely. I donât think sheâd want machines keeping her alive.â Robby watches Jack carefully as Jack takes in his words. Devastation is quickly covered by anger.Â
âI donât fucking care. She should wake the fuck up then and not leave this to me. Not make me fucking kill her.â Jack knows his anger at you is misplaced and a cover for how much this conversation is hurting him. Anger is just easier to deal with than heartbreak and grief right now. He sees Robby go to speak. âJust fucking donât Robby. Donât. Youâre right. You donât fucking know her. And I donât care. I donât fucking care if she wouldnât want it because I need her. And having her here with me like this is better than not having her at all.â Jack knows how selfish he sounds, how selfish heâs being.
Robby doesnât say anything, waits until Jack glances over at him, tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, asking him ��really?â without a word.Â
Jack sighs and looks back over at you shaking his head. âNo,â he whispers. âShe would hate it. We fucking talked about it once, way before this when it was on some show or movie we were watching. It would be cowardly and selfish of me to keep her here like this forever, just so that I wouldnât have to deal with completely losing her and could live in a perpetual delusion that sheâll wake up tomorrow.â Jack gives a short and hollow laugh through his nose. âRight before I left to go down to the ED and help, we⌠argued isnât the right word, but I donât know what is. She mentioned it, her dying. That if she had already died, in the OR or at the courthouse then I could be properly grieving, and I cut her off but she was going to say that I could be working towards moving on.â
Jack feels guilty for getting angry at you, for being selfish. He knows youâd understand and wouldnât care and wouldnât want him to feel guilty but it doesnât help. He swallows thickly and then takes in a deep breath, squeezing your hand, praying youâll squeeze it back, even just a little.Â
âBut thereâs no moving on from her.â Jack shakes his head as he looks down at you. âThe problem is that I donât think Iâll be strong enough to do it. To sign the damn papers,â Jack admits, voice wet with the tears lining his eyes.Â
Robby nods slowly. âYou are now and you will be then, if that then does ever come. You will because itâs for her. And Iâm not sure Iâve ever seen two humans love each other as much as you do, the way you do. She would do anything for you. And I know youâd do anything for her, no matter how much it killed you inside. So I know that if that day ever comes youâll be strong enough to sign for her, to do that for her.â
Jackâs silent for a minute, trying not to give into the urge to grab your shoulders and shake you awake. âI donât know Robby. I donât know how to talk to her like this. I try, but I just never know what to say other than I love her and please come back to me and please donât leave me alone. And I hate it. She deserves more. For it to not be about me,â he whispers, stands and runs the back of his bent index finger over your face like heâs trying to memorize you. As if he hasnât already. Heâs teary, voice small and raw from all the tears heâs already shed. âSo how do I let her be taken from me? How do I give her up, give up on her, tell her itâs okay to let go? How do I stand there and fight all my training and every instinct and just watch her die and know itâs my fault?â
Robby has to take a minute to compose himself because his heart aches for Jack. Itâs hard to see your best friend, your brother, contemplating losing the love of his life. Even though all of Jackâs questions are rhetorical he answers the last one.Â
âYou donât,â he says simply. âYou get in bed with her and you hold her and find it within you to talk to her. Tell her all of your favorite memories together. Tell her what she means to you. Tell her you love her. And you stay there in bed holding her until sheâs gone.âÂ
Jack takes in a shuddering breath as he sits back down in his chair. âHope seems so worthless and useless right now even though itâs all I feel like I have left.â Jack grabs your hand again, brushes his thumb over your knuckles. âI hope I never have to sign those papers.âÂ
Robby sniffles a little, not crying, just emotional. âThat makes two of us, brother.âÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âI think you should consider leaving your engagement ring here.â You and Jack are planning more for your trip to France, making packing lists. Well, youâre on the computer planning and making lists and Jack is chopping up ingredients for dinner.Â
Itâs been four days since the housewarming party. You feel like Jack has been more stressed lately, more on edge. Looking at you like heâs terrified of losing you again, like he did at times in the hospital and the first two days you were home.
âWhy?â You pout at him from the stool youâre sitting on at the kitchen island. âI want to wear it and show it off and take photos with it on while weâre in France!â
âI know,â Jack hums lowly, his eyebrows raising a little as he focuses on chopping. âI worry about it getting stolen, you getting assaulted for it or something, especially in Paris.â
âBut walking around with it on in Pittsburgh is okay?â
He sighs at you. He kind of hates that you said that because now itâs all he can think about. Whether he has put your life in danger for a third time by getting you a nice engagement ring. Because heâs already done it twice. When he didnât check you over in the trauma room before letting you go and going to help Robby, and when he left to go down to the ED and wasnât there to notice you going septic and throwing a PE.Â
Youâre the only one who would notice him stiffen the way he does, itâs so slight. You feel bad. You know heâs been struggling more the closer he gets to going back to work and having to leave you alone. Even starting with half shifts. And you know heâs struggling to talk about it with you because he doesnât want to burden you with it or make you feel any guiltier. Youâve both fallen into that habit a little bit.Â
âI really donât think anyone is going to try to steal it off me or assault me to get it when Iâm walking around with you.â You raise your eyebrows at him and give him a knowing smile, wait for him to lift his head to look at you once heâs finished chopping. He does.Â
âDonât look at me like that.â He points the knife at you teasingly and holds your gaze for a moment before grabbing something else to chop and getting back to it.
âBut I donât want to leave it here Peter!â you almost whine. It makes Jack chuckle to himself a little. âI donât want to argue about it, but I really want to take it. I like showing it off, like everyone knowing Iâm yours.â That makes him look up at you again and you smile at him and nod encouragingly. You can see the possessive look in his eyes, the way he breathes a little bit faster thinking about it. But he just clicks his tongue on the back of his teeth at you and shakes his head as he looks back down. âOkay, how about a compromise?â
âA compromise?â Jack echoes.
âYes. A compromise.âÂ
Thereâs a beat where neither of you talk, only the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board. Jack pauses his cutting and looks up at you. âAre you gonna tell me what the compromise is?âÂ
âIâm thinking of one,â you grumble, knowing how satisfied heâs going to be.Â
âOh,â he draws the word out teasingly, âshe suggests a compromise before she even has one!âÂ
âIâll come up with one, just give me a minute,â you huff. Jack hums at you again, keeps chopping. âOkay, yes! I have one. What if while weâre in Paris or whatever bigger cities or places youâd prefer I wasnât wearing it on my finger you wear the ring around a chain on your neck? Even on the same one as your dog tags if youâre bringing them. People are much less likely to try to snatch it from your neck and run, plus itâll always be covered by your shirt unless youâre going to start wearing deep v-necks, which I doubt.â You smirk.Â
You watch Jackâs eyes slide from you to the wall behind you and glaze over. Itâs clear heâs going back somewhere, you just donât know where or why or what happened. The smirk slides from your face as it twists into concern.
He goes to say something but stops as your words fully process. Wear the ring around a chain on his neck. Like he did at your funeral.Â
Jack drops the knife, it falls out of his hand and clatters a bit as it hits the counter. âJack?â you whisper, your heart rate picking up.Â
The nightmare plays on fast forward in Jackâs head, every emotion he felt when having it slamming into him all at once and making his head spin. With the massive flood of epinephrine, norepinephrine and cortisol all those emotions cause his body to release, Jackâs turning and leaning over the sink to be sick.Â
Itâs all too much.Â
âJack!â Youâre off the stool and over by him in a second, rubbing his back. âHey,â you murmur, âitâs okay, youâre okay.â You have no idea whatâs going on with him, but have a feeling.
Jack shakes his head at you as he dry heaves a few more times, trembling like nothing youâve seen from him before. âIâve got you.â Your hand keeps rubbing circles on his back soothingly and itâs simultaneously comforting him and burning him, because itâs all too much. There are too many emotions.Â
You were dead. He was at your funeral. It was so real.Â
Tears start to stream down his face silently as he rinses the sink and his mouth. âWe can get you to bed, okay? Iâll make you some broth if you feel up to it.âÂ
He can hear the anxiety in your voice, the worry for him, your love for him. He loves it, he does, truly, but it almost makes it worse because you were dead. And if you were dead, if you had really died, he wouldnât have this. He wouldnât be in sweatpants and an old shirt at home chopping things to make dinner for the two of you while you sit in the kitchen to be with him and plan your trip. You wouldnât be rubbing his back and so worried about him. You wouldnât be taking care of him and offering to make him broth.Â
You simply wouldnât be.Â
Jack shakes his head and sniffles. He turns to you and your eyes widen when you see him crying, pain and a heartbreaking and agonizing sorrow etched into his face that threatens to bring you to tears. You immediately know what this is about. He doesnât need to say anything. Heâs not ill. But youâre not sure how to support him, what to say, what exactly is wrong. âJack whatâs-â
Youâre cut off by him crumbling in front of you, grabbing at your forearms to pull you closer as he slides down the base cabinets to the floor, bringing you down with him. âI,â he tries to choke out, âI, IâŚâ He shakes his head again.Â
He canât speak right now, and you know it. âOkay, itâs okay,â you tell him as you reach for him and pull him close to you as you press your back against the cabinet, letting him almost lay on you.Â
Jack buries his head in your chest, careful not to press into your still healing sternum too hard, and clings to you, both arms wrapped tightly around you, one diagonal up your back, hand clinging to your shoulder for just a second before it slides over to your neck, two fingers pushing down.Â
Heâs looking for your pulse.Â
âOh, Jack,â you whisper, your own voice thick with tears now. âIâm here. Iâve got you baby.â You hold him just as tight, let one hand find his hair and run your fingers through it, scratch at his scalp at times, kiss the top of his head and nuzzle your nose into him in hopes of soothing him. Sometimes you rock a little, but youâre not sure if thatâs more to comfort him or yourself.Â
And you whisper little words of reassurance and, you hope, comfort to him. âIâve got you.â âIâm here.â âYouâre okay.â âI love you.â You hold him and let him weep into you. Let him keep his fingers pressed into your pulse point. Let him cling to you like youâre the only thing left in the world, because to him you are. Youâre his whole world.Â
It kills you, seeing him like this, hurting this badly. This deeply. You know it has to do with what happened, know that itâs been building up in him for a long time. That he hasnât said anything about it, not because he was trying to hide it but because he just couldnât. And you understand that. A whole lot.
âHere baby,â you murmur at one point, try to move his head a little which just makes him sob harder and hold you closer. âShh, Iâm not going anywhere, just trust me, okay? I think this will help.â You try again and this time he lets you move his head, lets you turn it to the side and move it over and then pull him back to your chest, keep your hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. Heâs confused until he hears it.Â
The rhythmic beating of your heart in your chest.Â
It makes him tremble against you harder, clutch at you tighter. But you donât care. You wouldnât care if he held you so hard it hurt. Youâd take on all the physical pain out there without a second thought and genuinely smile about it if it would take away Jackâs pain. Â
It starts to pass the longer Jack is in your arms, ear to your chest listening to your heart beating, fingers pressing into your skin feeling your heart beating. It calms him. He quiets, reduced to only sniffles and hiccuped in breaths and swollen eyes and an ache so deep in his chest heâs not sure it can be fixed. But youâre with him, still holding him on the kitchen floor and brushing at his cheekbone and scratching at the nape of his neck and kissing his curls and whispering soft words of reassurance to him. Â
Youâre here. Youâre in your shared apartment. Youâre alive.Â
You have to be, right? The sound of your heart beating and the warmth of your chest and your voice whispering quiet words to him has to be real. It would make sense for you to come up with the idea of him wearing your engagement ring on a chain around his neck all on your own as a compromise. It doesnât mean heâs still in that nightmare and just starting to realize it. It means the two of you just think alike. Right?
You arenât sure how long you end up sitting there on the floor together, his head pressed against your chest. It doesnât really matter. You know heâs really starting to come down when his fingers no longer press into your neck to feel for your pulse. âIâm here if and when you want to talk,â you whisper. You donât expect anything back from him and arenât hurt when he remains quiet.
Eventually Jack pulls his head from your chest and looks up at you. After a few seconds of eye contact he pushes himself up and sits with his back against the base cabinet next to you. He wipes off his face with his hands and once heâs done, one of your hands immediately finds one of his and squeezes. He needs it. Little things like a hand squeeze from you to remind him that youâre still here with him. Eventually he lets his head tilt and rest on your shoulder. You turn your head, give him a lingering kiss to the temple and then rest yours on top of his.Â
And then you just sit like that. For as long as he needs. Even when your ass goes numb and back stiffens a bit. You stay just like that with him.Â
Jack loves the way you donât press him. You donât ask if heâs okay, or if he wants to talk about it, or tell him gently to talk to you. You just let him be as he comes back to himself fully. And he knows itâs not because you donât want to talk about it or donât want him to talk to you about it but because you understand that sometimes there is simultaneously too much and nothing to be said. So you let him be.Â
After a while Jack takes a big breath in and slowly lets it out. You feel him pull his head a little so you lift yours up and look over at him as he looks at you.Â
He looks wrecked in a way youâve never seen before. Eyes red and swollen, lips a bit swollen too. Mouth set and lips pulled just the slightest bit down, hair fluffier and more askew than normal because of how much youâve run your hands through it. His shirt is wrinkled, part of the neckline darker than the rest of the shirt from his tears. He looks haunted.Â
But mostly itâs the way heâs looking at you that really shows how wrecked he is. Youâve seen Jack look at you a lot of ways, with a lot of different expressions, especially recently with everything that has happened. Happy, sad, like heâs amazed and canât believe youâre alive, like looking at you hurts him a little because it reminds him of what he almost lost and who he couldnât protect.
But youâve never seen Jack look at you like this. Heâs looking at you like he canât believe youâre alive, but not in an incredulous, happy sense. Jackâs looking at you like he truly cannot believe youâre alive, is scared to believe it even for a second. Like he doesnât trust the world that you are in fact alive, doesnât trust himself and his ability to know whether youâre alive. Like youâre a hallucination or a mirage, or a ghost who has been living with him and heâs just realizing it. Like youâre a dream heâs about to wake up from.Â
âIâŚâ Jack tries to start, voice raw, as unsure and questioning and wrecked as he looks. He just keeps looking at you like heâs about to come back to reality and youâre about to disappear right in front of his eyes, just cease to exist.Â
He shifts and leans off the cabinet, gets closer to you and takes your face in his hands. Jack holds your gaze how he loves to do, lets his eyes burn into yours as though theyâll give him the answer to whatever question it is he canât speak.Â
You lean your head into one of his hands a little and then Jackâs kissing you, pressing against your lips hard at first like he was bracing to just move through air and never actually find your lips. Itâs short, his head pulling back from yours for a second to look you in the eyes again before his eyes drop to your lips.Â
Glassy eyes look back up at you, questioning. You nod slightly, because of course he can kiss you. And he does.Â
Jack pulls your head back towards his as he leans in, both of your mouths opening just slightly. He takes the opportunity, licks into your mouth and starts devouring you, his head moving slightly with each kiss and slip of his tongue back into your mouth.Â
Itâs greedy the way he kisses you, nose smushing into your face as you both start to breathe hard, the sound almost lost in between the noises of pleasure you pull from each other and the pops of your lips with each pass. Jack kisses you like he doesnât believe youâre real. Like each kiss might be the last one heâs ever able to give you, like itâll never be enough, like heâll never have enough of you. Itâs not something youâve ever felt from him before. You can tell heâs scared in a way but you arenât sure about what exactly.Â
He keeps kissing you but his hands drop from your face to grab at the hem of your shirt, start sliding it up your body, stopping to pop the clasp of your bra as he works the shirt up and eventually over your head, helps you shrug your bra off. You expect his lips to return to yours immediately but they donât.Â
Jack stands as he tosses your shirt and bra to the side, hands reaching down for you and helping to get you up on your feet. Before you can say anything his hands are on your hips and his lips are back on yours. He walks you backwards to the kitchen table until your ass bumps into the edge of it. Without breaking the kiss he moves his from your hips and blindly wipes off the table, sending some mail and books and whatever else happened to be there clattering to the floor.
He finally breaks the kiss to give you a chance to breathe and so he can check thereâs nothing on the table. âJack,â you breathe out with some surprise. He grabs your hips and helps you sit on the edge of the table before stooping to bring his face back close to yours.Â
âPlease,â he whispers against your lips, âplease. Please, I need this.â He pushes his lips to yours once again, licking into your mouth once again. âI need to feel you.â He feels your hands at the hem of his shirt and moves apart just enough for him to get it off and throw it to the floor. âI need you.â Itâs pleaded, desperate and needy, but not erotically so.Â
âOf course, always.â You let him support you as he leans over you and guides you down until your back rests against the table. âYou have me, you always have me.â
Itâs quick then, the way he tears off your bottoms and then his. You wrap your legs around him as he leans back over you, chest to chest and kisses you again, like he canât get enough, like each kiss is a surprise he wasnât expecting to actually get. He grinds himself into you as he does and you respond in kind, tightening your legs around him and letting your hips buck as much as they can against him to search out more friction. His hands roam your body, pressing into you to feel as much as he can, groping at your breasts and squeezing your hips as his lips stay on yours.
âFuck,â he groans into your mouth, hand sliding between the two of you to feel how wet you are for him. âCan you take me like this?â
âYeah,â you pant softly, âyeah, please Jack.â You wrap your arms around his neck, hands tangling in salt and pepper curls you adore.
He shivers at the way you say his name, his lips leaving yours so he can look down at you as his fingers run through you and then over his cock to slick himself up as much as he can. âI need to know youâre real and still here. I need to be close to you.â
Jack notches himself in you and then moves to rest on his forearms with his hands holding your face, forehead resting against yours before he finally pushes himself into you slowly. His voice cracks with emotion part way through the needy and relieved groan he draws out as he pushes in.Â
âOh Jack,â you moan as you take a breath in and feel it catch in your throat.Â
Once he bottoms out Jack stills, the two of you panting against each otherâs lips until Jackâs are claiming yours once again. He stays still, lets himself relish in the way you taste and how you feel around him, so tight and warm and fluttering as you adjust to taking him with no real preparation.Â
Jack finally draws his hips back slowly and steadily pushes himself back in with a grunt. âYou okay?â Even with as out of his mind for you as he is, how desperate and needy and frantic he is to have you heâs still checking in on you. Would rather die than hurt you, especially like this.Â
âYes,â you breathe, âyes, Jack please. Need you.â Hearing that you need him has Jack pulling his hips back again, faster this time before snapping back in.
From there itâs all feral need and grunts and groans as Jack tries to be closer to you, to consume you, to be one with you. His strokes are hard as he tries to get as deep inside of you as he possibly can. His pace varies, keeps you on your toes, but itâs not deliberate this time. Itâs Jack chasing what he needs from you however his body tells him, however feels right at that second. At some point one of his arms slides under your back, his hand wrapping over the opposite shoulder so that you tilt to the side just a little and he can pull you down onto him as he fucks you so hard your last clear thought is of concern he might break the table.Â
Your hands tug at his hair, nails draw up his back when he starts mouthing at your neck, kissing and sucking, lips passing over the scar from your central line again and again. He rests his cheek against yours leaving his mouth near your ear allowing you to hear every little noise your body pulls from him. Jack is fucking you with pure need but itâs not an erotic need like it is sometimes when you tease him or heâs been thinking about you all day. Itâs intimate. Jack needs you. He needs you. All of you.
Only you.
Youâre so lost in the haze of pleasure that it takes you a moment to realize your cheek is wet where your and Jackâs touch. You realize heâs crying. âJack?â You moan his name so sweetly for him, lace it with all the concern and worry and need you have for him.Â
It makes him let out the smallest sob and breathe in hard through his teeth, shake his head a little against yours. He pulls his head from yours and looks down at you, hips slowing but not stopping. âTell me youâre here,â a fresh wave of tears roll down his face and hit your cheeks. Heâs unfairly beautiful when he cries. âTell me this is real. That youâre real.â A few of your own tears slip out the corner of your eyes and roll down towards your ear. âPlease,â his voice cracks, more of his tears joining your own on your face, âplease be real. Please tell me youâre here and real and with me.â
You do. Over and over and over until his lips are back on yours and consuming you in a different way now. More confident, more convinced youâre real and here with him and letting him fuck you on your kitchen table to soothe himself and fix something inside of him he didnât realize was broken.Â
Letting him take solace from every part of you.
One hand slips between your bodies and with how well he knows you itâs not long before Jack has you soundless with pleasure for a moment as your orgasm crashes over you, voice coming back to moan out little whispers of his name, veiled pleas for him to take anything and everything he could ever need from you.Â
And so Jack does. Lets himself give in and lose himself all the way in you, your name groaned with a relieved intensity youâve never heard from him before, lower and more gravelly than usual right at your ear.
Jack works himself through it before stilling and resting his forehead back against yours, the two of you panting softly as you come down, bodies hot and sweat sheened and sticking together. âI love you,â Jack whispers, eyes opening and finding yours before kissing you, chaste but lingering. Just to feel you.Â
âI love you too,â you murmur against his lips when youâre able, hand running through his hair and scratching at his scalp. Jack kisses your lips again and then your chin, down your neck and to your central line scar, lingering there before kissing down to the highest part of your thoracotomy scar. âBed?â
Jack nods, lifts himself off of you and pulls out gently. He steps back and helps you up and off the table. âI should take care of all this.â He nods to the kitchen.
You shake your head and grab his hand. âThe carrots and potatoes can live there overnight and itâll be fine. We can order something from bed.â You squeeze his hand and pull him gently so he starts walking with you.Â
Jack pulls back on your hand before you can get in bed, flicks his chin towards the bathroom. âGo,â itâs not an order, just a reminder. âWe donât want my⌠whatever that was to be the reason you get a UTI. You really donât need that right now.âÂ
You smile at him gently and nod. Even after all the emotional turmoil he just went through, still is a little bit from what you can see in his eyes, heâs still thinking about you and your well being and keeping you healthy and safe. âYouâll get in bed?âÂ
He nods and drops your hand, sits on the edge and takes his prosthetic off as you go pee. Heâs leaning against the headboard and staring into space when you get into bed. You slide up next to him so that your legs touch and lean back against the headboard, let your hand rest on his thigh and give it a little squeeze so he knows youâre here for whatever he might need.
âWhen you were in a coma,â Jack starts, voice strained and raw, âI started having nightmares.â He rests his hand on top of yours. You close your eyes and bow your head a little, heart sinking. âSome werenât completely awful. But the one I got the mostâŚâ he trails off and shakes his head, grows quiet again.Â
âYou donât have to tell me,â you remind him softly, lean your head over and kiss his bare shoulder.Â
âI know, but I want to. At least enough to explain what that was.â
âYou donât owe me an explanation, Jack.â
âI know but I want to tell you.â He pauses for a second. âThe worst, and of course most frequent, one was where you died in the OR. And I had to hold your lifeless body and somehow force myself to walk away from you. In the nightmare Iâm thinking back on that while Iâm sitting at your funeral.â You blink away tears because you canât even imagine the level of pain that must have caused him. Multiple times. âThe details, I⌠They donât really matter, right now. In the nightmare I wore your engagement ring, the one that never got to go on your finger because I never go to ask, I wore it on a chain around my neck.â
âOh fuck Jack,â you cringe, closing your eyes and squeezing his thigh tight and hating yourself. âI am so fucking sorry.â
Jack finally turns his head to look over at you. âDonât be. Seriously. You had no way of knowing.â You appreciate him saying it but it doesnât stop the guilt that builds inside of you. You were the reason he had the nightmare in the first place and now youâre the reason he had to go right back there. âSo when you, when it got brought up, it just made it all hit me again, all the emotions from that nightmare and it made me panic almost. That this wasnât real, that you werenât. And I lost it a bit and so I did whatever that was and then needed to be as close to you as possible.â He shrugs a little. âI needed to know you were real.âÂ
Jackâs hand slides under yours and picks it up, laces your fingers together and squeezes. You feel vaguely lightheaded by his admission and then berate yourself and feel guiltier for thinking about yourself when this is about Jack and him still needing you. âI,â you try to find words to say, âIâm sorry,â Jack shakes his head but you continue, âI canât even begin to imagine how painful that must have been.â You pause and have to look away from him for a moment, can feel his eyes remain on you. âOr maybe I can, to some extent at least, and thatâs why Iâm sorry and wish I could take it all away from you, make sure it never happens again.â
âThat one has only happened once since youâve been home. The first night.â You feel a little relief at that, are able to look back up at him. âTheyâve kind of changed though, honestly. Itâs not holding your dead body in an OR anymore, itâs walking in the door from work or the store or wherever and finding your dead body on the floor or in bed or wherever. Complications. Something else random. Freak home deaths Iâve seen roll through work before.â He lets go of your hand to bring his hand to your face again. âI wake up and have to convince myself youâre here. Iâve gotten quite good at the art of taking your pulse on your wrist without you waking up.â He gives a little laugh through his nose, trying to infuse a little lightness. It doesnât work. If anything your lips pull down a bit. âSometimes I just lay awake for a while watching you breathe. Sometimes I cuddle up to you a bit closer to feel your chest rise and fall against mine. Sometimes I fall asleep counting the beats of your heart while I feel your pulse.â
You take in a shuddery breath, trying so hard to focus on him and helping him and being here for him and not on the way this is all your fault. âDo you want to talk or for me to just listen?â You donât want to force him to truly discuss this with you if heâs not in the headspace right now and it wonât surprise you if heâs not.
Jack thinks about it for a second. âListen, please.â
âOkay.â You nod at him. âIâm not saying this to start a conversation when you just told me you wanted listening but I just need to make sure you know. You can do whatever you need to do Jack. When you wake up from one. Wake me up. We can talk, we can just sit together, whatever you need, okay?â
He nods, pulls his hand from your face to wipe away the couple of tears that have fallen down his own during this conversation. âActually when you shifted us earlier, in the kitchen. Pulled my head to your chest so I could listen to your heart. It helped a lot. I just didnât want to hurt you, before. With your chest healing.â He tries to laugh softly at himself.Â
You give him the best smile you can manage with all the guilt and self-hate swirling inside you. âYou can roll me into whatever position you want so you can listen anytime.â You know heâs trying to keep the conversation light because he knows how hard hearing it is for you. But thatâs not fair. You should be the one trying to keep it light for him, should be taking care of him. âWe could get you another stethoscope to keep on your nightstand,â you offer. âThen you could really listen whenever you wanted.â
He gives you a little more of a laugh at that and it makes your small smile become a little more genuine. âCould, yeah. But I like having my head on your chest, feeling you. I think it probably helps ground me in its own way.â
âMakes sense.â You rest your left hand on his chest, push down a little extra hard with your ring finger so he can feel the band that lives there now. âThank you for telling me. I know it wasnât easy and that you didnât have to. And I want to do whatever I can to help you because I donât want you to suffer.â You stop yourself from adding the because of me that you want to so badly.Â
Jack picks up your hand, brings it to his lips palm first and kisses the band of your engagement ring before flipping your hand and kissing to the side of it the best he can with the setting. He brings your hand to the side of his face and covers it with his as he leans into it. âYou always help. Even when youâre just laying there asleep and donât know it.âÂ
You give him a little smile and laugh through your nose, try your best to take his words to heart because you know how much he means them. Jack knows youâre struggling, he can read you like a book. But he senses that you donât want to acknowledge it so he doesnât bring it up.Â
His stomach growls then which makes you laugh a little more and he huffs. âRuined our moment.âÂ
âNah,â you shake your head and pull your hand away and rub his stomach, push off the headboard to sit up more. âWhat do you feel like? Canât have my man going hungry.â The smile you give him is genuine, all the way to your eyes this time and it makes him mirror you, that smile of his you love so much pulling onto his face.Â
He widens his eyes at you for a second and raises his eyebrows and you already know what heâs about to say. âYou.â
âYeah, I walked into that one,â you click your tongue at yourself. Jack gives you a smirk. âI donât think Iâm going to be filling enough for that-â
âI could go for seconds. Thirds, even.âÂ
âMm, I canât believe Iâm saying this, but no.â You boop his nose and the way he scrunches his nose at it is so cute you could bite him. âReal food first. Me later, if youâre good.â He raises his eyebrows at you with a little smile. âWhat would you like? Iâll order.â
âFeisty. Iâll take it. Be so good for you so I can have dessert.â He nods all saccharine and put-on grin that makes you roll your eyes at him playfully. He thinks for a moment and then says the name of your favorite restaurant.Â
You tsk at him and give him a really? look, but youâre smiling still, grinning, in fact. Like an idiot. Itâs so sweet and so Jack, just one of those little casual ways he shows he loves you.Â
âWhattt? I canât want that?âÂ
âYou can, but I donât think itâs really your first choice, right now.â You shake your head a little as you speak. You start to slide out of bed and Jack whines, grabs at one of your arms.Â
âWhere are you going?â he pouts at you.Â
âGotta go get my phone so we can order, baby.âÂ
His pout lessens fractionally. âAlright, but hurry back.âÂ
âYouâre very cute when youâre clingy,â you giggle at him as you get out of bed. He goes to make a smart comment back that he isnât clingy but stops. He is right now and he doesnât fucking care. Heâs allowed to be.Â
Jack has a favorite restaurant, just like you. Several, actually but you know the one that really tops the list. But youâve also deduced that Jack has a favorite comfort restaurant thatâs different from his favorite favorite. And you know what his favorite comfort meal from that restaurant is. So you add it, pick something for yourself and order it to be delivered before walking back into the bedroom with your phone.Â
âTook you long enough,â he teases as you come into view. âWhat were you doing?â
âOrdering.â You toss your phone at him as you slide in and he unlocks it, reads it over.Â
He swallows thickly and looks at you with glassy eyes. You make him feel more loved than he could ever possibly deserve, knowing him that well without him having ever said a word about it and doing it for him without asking. You give him a soft smile when you turn to look at him. âOkay?âÂ
âMore than,â he whispers. âThank you.â He pulls you closer to him so that youâre cuddling chest to chest, gives you the sweetest, simplest kiss. Itâs everything. âYou know,â he hums, starting to push you on your back. âI think youâre my appetizer and dessert.â Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âHow about the day we met? We consider that our first date, itâs our anniversary,â Jack suggests.Â
You and Jack are lounging on the couch together, half watching your show and half discussing wedding things. Youâre not making any real plans, just thinking and dreaming out loud with each other.Â
You canât help but tease him. âIs that because you only want to have to remember one date?â
He shoots you a look. âNo.â He wags his head at you as he says it. âI just thought it was kind of sweet. Thatâs our day, you know? And it falls on a Saturday that year.â He waves his phone thatâs open to the calendar app at you.Â
You grin at him. âYouâre a romantic, Jack Abbot.â Youâre crawling into his lap as you sing it, running your hands up his chest to hold his face so you can cover it in kisses.
âSo youâve said.â Jack moves his head and chases your lips with his trying to get a kiss on the lips. âMultiple times.â
âBecause itâs true,â you mumble against his lips as he kisses you, running your hands through his curls. Â
âYeah, yeah.â He playfully waves you off as you settle on his lap perpendicular to him, one of his arms resting against your legs, hand spread over the thigh closest to him. His other hand rubs up and down your back absentmindedly. âYou thought about where?â
âMm,â you hum, look down at your engagement ring, ânot so much. You?â
âYeah,â he nods, squeezes your thigh. âI was thinking the bookstore.â
Your eyes come up from your ring and look at the wall in front of you for a second before looking at Jack. He canât be serious. You open your mouth to say something, but close it as you struggle to find the words.Â
âI didnât expect speechless but I knew youâd love the idea.â Jack smiles. He uses the hand rubbing at your back to gently grab the back of your neck and bring your face close to his as if heâs going to kiss you. He drops his voice and lets a breath of hot air fan over your lips. âIâm fucking with you,â he murmurs before pulling his face away a bit and releasing you, letting his hand come down to your back again, a huge self-satisfied smirk on his face.Â
âJack!â He laughs at the shrill tone of your voice and the way you swat his chest playfully.Â
âI really had you there for a minute,â he laughs as you fake pout at him. âBut something I love about you is the way you were thinking so hard of a way to let me down without hurting me.â
âYou did!â You huff at him. âI was sitting here thinking how am I going to explain to him that while I love our bookstore it doesnât say wedding venue, nor do I want our wedding to be a near recreation of our first date with a bunch of extra people with us!â
Jack chuckles a little more. âI havenât really thought about where either. Hard to think of where before you have a date to know the season.â You nod and hum, he makes a good point. âI only have one wedding requirement. And itâs not even really the wedding.âÂ
âOh?â You raise an eyebrow at him in intrigue. âWhatâs that?â
âI plan the honeymoon.â Both of your eyebrows raise at that and you cock your head at him. You donât know what you expected him to say, but it wasnât planning the honeymoon apparently. âAnd you donât get to know where weâre going until weâre at the gate about to board.â
âHow will I pack?â You look slightly stricken. âJack, I love you and I trust you with my life, truly, but packing-â
âIâm going to give you,â Jack cuts you off with an oddly reassuring smirk, âtwo packing lists. Youâll make two piles. Once youâve left to go get ready Iâll put one of the piles into a suitcase. That way I get my surprise and youâve packed for yourself.â
You blink at him for a moment. âJack,â you whisper, swallow hard and will away the tears you can feel forming. âYou have this all planned out just to surprise me?â
âI thought you might like the idea, but itâs okay if you donât.â He nods to emphasize that part. âBut if we do decide to do it this way weâll still talk about places of course, itâs not like I donât want any input from you. Iâll just be the final decision maker.âÂ
âNo, I love it.â The laugh you give him is breathless. âIt makes me feel so loved and taken care of. Itâs hard to wrap my head around.â You lean into him to give him a deep kiss. âHow long have you been thinking about this?â
âI think the general idea came to me a couple weeks after I knew I wanted to marry you.â
You beam up at him. âThat long?â Jack nods. âWow.âÂ
âDid you have a moment?â Jack asks you. You furrow your brows at him and shake your head slightly to ask him to explain. âA moment when you knew you wanted to marry me. That you knew youâd say yes if I asked. Itâs okay if you donât, honestly.â
âOf course I do!â You click your tongue at him. You let out a short laugh. âIt actually wasnât long after yours. Like two-ish weeks later, maybe? Things had been adding up, there were lots of things. This was just the first moment where I really consciously thought it.â You smile at him, wrap one arm around his neck so your fingers can scratch at the back of his scalp and nape of his neck how he likes.Â
âYou had just worked I think five nights in a row helping cover shifts. We hadnât spoken on the phone that day, but exchanged some texts in the morning before you got home and went to sleep. And I could tell just from them that you were so beyond exhausted. My day, well. It was probably the worst and hardest day I had ever had at work and I felt so selfish but once I was able to leave I just went straight to your place. Without asking. So I knock and wait, get ready to leave because I know youâre asleep but then you open the door in your pajama pants, youâd clearly just woken up. And you give me this little âHey Doll, come inâ as you open the door. I was frozen by that point. You took one look at me, grabbed my hand, pulled me inside and sat me on your couch and then disappeared. At some point you came back and gave me a tight hug, kissed my forehead and said âIâve got you.â And the next thing I know youâre stripping me and getting me into the bath youâd apparently drawn. You sat on the floor next to the tub with me. I still hadnât said a single word to you at this point. Not even hi. And then you start talking to me. Just talking. I donât remember about what. But you knew just from looking at me that I needed help getting out of my head. And as I listened I finally found my voice and was able to say I was sorry. You asked why and I said something along the lines of I was being selfish and knew you were exhausted and shouldnât have come and made you do all this just because I had a bad day. And then you said, âDonât apologize for needing me. Ever. For anything or for any reason. The day will never come where you need me and I am too tired for you.â It wasnât a big deal or a huge declaration. Just a casual fact you were stating. You knew what I needed just by looking at me. You didnât care that I didnât say a word to you while you did all this stuff for me. You didnât ask what was wrong or for me to talk to you. You just met me where I was. And as you were helping me out of the bath and drying me off with a towel I just had the thought. I want to marry him.â
You wipe a few tears from your eyes. âSorry, that was probably way more of a story than it needed to be to answer your question.âÂ
âDonât apologize,â Jack murmurs. His eyes are glassy just like yours, a bit red. He gives a soft laugh. âI just feel kind of bad now that I didnât give that much detail.âÂ
âDonât.â You shake your head at him. âI promise, if I had been down on one knee on this floor that story would have been a whole lot fucking shorter.âÂ
That makes Jack laugh properly which makes you laugh properly. You turn a little and slide your arms around his neck to hug him, his arms sliding around you in return and holding you close.Â
You nuzzle into his neck and then pull back for a kiss, let Jack deepen it as he begins moving to get you on your back on the couch, propping himself up on his elbows on top of you to keep too much weight off your chest and abdomen. You have to break apart for air but Jack goes straight to your neck, kissing and sucking and pulling all those pretty little sounds from you that he loves.Â
âWe have a date,â you whisper, hands tugging at his curls a little.Â
Jack pulls back from your neck to look down at you, both of you grinning at each other. âWe have a date.âÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Jack walk into the Pitt together. He needed to grab some stuff and sign a few things and was going to have Robby drop it all off so he didnât have to leave you. You havenât been outside much since the shooting. But you convinced him that you guys should go together, that it would be good for him to see people. As long as he would drive you guys, which he would of course.Â
Jack was weary at the idea. You seemed to be struggling a bit harder lately and he worried something about being in the Pitt specifically might be too triggering for you. He knows that you have a lot of unresolved anxiety and guilt about what happened still. And that, while youâve spoken generally about feeling guilty for putting him through all of this, you, like him, struggle to talk about it with him because you see it as burdening him or guilting him.
But you reassured him that it would be fine. Youâd been back to the hospital since everything for follow up appointments. Not to the Pitt, but if the hospital didnât completely trigger you why would the Pitt?Â
You feel a little twinge of something as you walk through the ambulance bay doors, the ones youâd come through that day. Jack can tell and he squeezes your hand, stops and pulls to the side. âYou sure about this? We can leave, right now.â
You shake your head. âNo, no Iâm sure. Itâll be good for me. Iâm okay, really. It was just a little second of something.âÂ
He eyes you for a second but nods and starts walking you further in. Itâs busy, nobody notices either of you as he leads you over to the break room. âYou want to wait here? Shouldnât take long. You can check the fridge. Anything with Robbyâs name on it you can steal.âÂ
That makes you laugh, helps you relax. âIâll wait here, yeah. Go do your thing, Dr. Abbot.â You wink at him.Â
Jack lets out a little chuckle and shakes his head. âDonât even start with me, Doll.â It makes you giggle as he leans down to kiss you. âI wonât be long, okay?â You nod at him, take a seat as he walks out.Â
You scroll on your phone for a few minutes before your curiosity gets the better of you. You walk over and peek out the window of the door. Itâs constant movement right now, people barely acknowledging each other as they rush to get somewhere else. You open the door and step out, just to look around.Â
Before youâre even really aware of it youâre standing in front of one of the trauma rooms. That trauma room. The parts you can remember play in your head. Hugging Jack, Robby calling him over, you realizing what had happened and calling to Jack. And then nothing. Standing here you can only imagine what it must have been like for Jack, for him to have seen where you were shot and then watch you collapse. And then you made him live in the hospital with you for weeks. And now youâre making him stay home with you. Sometimes your guilt makes you feel like his jailer.Â
Jack chats with Robby at the desk while he fills out one of the papers, gives whatever info it is HR so desperately needed to process all his leave correctly. Robbyâs mid sentence when Jack spots you just in the corner of his eye, turns to see you standing in front of the trauma room. Jack leaves without a word to Robby and strides to you.Â
âHey,â he calls out as he gets close so that he wonât scare you when he steps in front of you and puts his hands on your arms. He sees that your eyes are a little glazed over when he gets a good look at you. âWhy donât you come over to the desk with me, yeah?â Heâs not going to ask you why you were there like youâre a child who needs to explain yourself to him. Heâs just going to redirect. âYeah?â He asks again as he cups your face with one hand.Â
âI just wanted to see. I, I got⌠curious. Just wanted to watch.â You explain anyway. âAnd then I was here.â
âThatâs okay, Doll. You can sit at the desk with me, yeah?âÂ
You look around. Thereâs a chair against the wall a bit down, not facing the trauma room. âIâll sit there. If thatâs okay. Then I can watch.â
Jack glances over. âYeah, thatâs fine, thatâs okay.â He walks you over to it, squeezes your hand. âIâm almost done, I promise.â
Being away from the room and back in Jackâs space snaps you back a little. âOkay, Peter.â You smile at him before he walks away.Â
After a few minutes sitting there by yourself a woman rolls her wheelchair up to you. âAnd who are you that theyâve got sitting in time out?â
You glance around for a second to see if anyoneâs coming after her and when nobody does you figure fuck it, and answer. âIâm Jack, um, Dr. Abbotâs fiancĂŠe.â
âOh you lucky girl,â the woman smirks at you. âIâm Myrna.â
âOh!â You smile widely at her. âYes! Iâve heard a lot about you from Robby!â
âHave you now? Fruitcakeâs talkinâ about me outside of this shithole. I knew I had that cocksucker wrapped around my finger.â
âFruitcake?â You laugh. âThatâs what you call Robby? Fruitcake?âÂ
âYeah,â she nods. âHe loves it.â Myrna gives you a conspiratorial wink. âHe pretends it doesnât, but I know it makes him feel things.âÂ
At the desk Robby looks up, sees you and Myrna talking and you laughing. âOh thatâs not good.âÂ
âHm?â Jack raises his brows and then looks up. He smirks. âNot for you, but I think itâs going to be pretty funny for me.â Jack signs the last form and they both walk over to you. You and Myrna quiet as they get closer.Â
âMyrna, are you harassing Jackâs fiancĂŠe?â Robby asks sternly, crossing his arms.Â
âNot at all Fruitcake!â You answer for her. âWe were just having a little chat.âÂ
Robby lets out a big sigh as Jack laughs. âSee man, I told you. Not good for you, funny for me.âÂ
âActually, we were talking and Myrna is free, Robby. She can be your plus one to the wedding! You said yesterday you were still looking!â
âThat sounds perfect!â Jack smirks, clapping Robby on the shoulder. âIâll let you see my vagina again for free Fruitcake,â Myrna offers, raising her eyebrows at Robby.Â
Robby lets out another sigh and hangs his head. âThe roof doth beckon.âÂ
You and Jack laugh while Myrna swats at him. âReady Doll?â
âYeah.â You look at Myrna. âIt was lovely meeting you Myrna, I look forward to seeing you again.â You turn your attention to Robby, disguising your smirk with a warm smile quite well. âBye Fruitcake!â You lean up and give Robby a quick kiss on the cheek as Jack snorts a laugh and holds his hand out for you.Â
As the two of you walk away you hear Myrna giving Robby more shit.
âHow come sheâs allowed to kiss you on the cheek, cocksucker, but when I try you threaten to call the cops?â You and Jack laugh with each other as you walk out the ambulance bay doors to go back home.Â
That night Jack thinks itâs a little strange, how long the shower has been running. And how it doesnât sound like youâre in it. Thereâs no pause to the water raining down on the tiled shower floor, no slaps of water hitting against the floor suddenly when you step to rinse your hair or body, no muffled rain sound when you let yourself stand under the stream and soak. Only the uninterrupted sound of water raining from the shower head onto the tile.Â
He glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand. You have to have been in there for at least thirty minutes. Jack looks back over at the bathroom door. Itâs unnerving. Something is wrong.Â
He gets off the bed, shirtless and just in his sweatpants. You guys had been winding down for the night before you decided to shower. He tries the handle. Itâs unlocked. Thereâs an unspoken rule between the two of you that you can enter without asking if the door is unlocked.Â
âDoll?â Jack calls to you softly as he opens the door.Â
Itâs like you donât even hear him. Jack finds you in only your underwear staring in the mirror at your scars, one hand hovering over the bottom of the long laparotomy scar running up your stomach, another over your mouth, tears streaming down your face. Being at the Pitt today pushed you over some edge you didnât realize you were so close to.
He knows now that you were using the sound of the shower to hide your muffled sobs.Â
His eyes run over each of your scars, starting with the one up near your neck from your central line, that one fading quicker with how small it is, especially in comparison to the others. From there his eyes move down until he hits the scar from your thoracotomy. He traces the line with his eyes before he finds the laparotomy scar and lets his eyes drag along it. And then his eyes move over to the more circular scar. The bullet hole.Â
âDoll, sweetheart,â Jack keeps his voice low as he walks into the bathroom. He steps over to the shower first and turns it off. Even that hardly seems to get through to you. He sees your eyes leave yourself in the mirror and flick to him for just a second. The tears start to fall harder.Â
Jack walks up behind you so that his warm, bare chest presses against your back, his hands resting on your hips and lips kissing at your neck. Not teasing, just loving, soft and sweet and trying to soothe you when he knows words are only going to go so far.Â
âWhat if you can never look at me the same way again?â You finally whisper, moving your hand from your mouth.Â
You can see his brows furrow and a look of confusion fall over his face. âWhat do you mean?â
âI know youâve kissed all of them, that you did the first time we had sex again after what happened. But I see you looking at them all, all the scars, whenever one is visible. And so what if you can never look at me the same way again, especially when theyâre visible. What if my body is just always a reminder of one of the worst days of your life? A visual reminder that sends you right back there, that just, that just tortures you!â You let out a quiet sob. âWhat if thatâs all you can ever see when you look at me?â
Jack takes in a deep breath and you can feel his chest press into you a little more as he does. He catches your eye contact in the mirror. âDoll,â he murmurs, âI think that you misunderstand why I look at your scars whenever one is visible.â Jack slides his hands from your hips around your front in a kind of backwards hug, pulls you back closer to him a bit.Â
Your chin trembles a little. âOh?â
He nods. âWill you turn for me? Sit on the counter?â Jack tilts his head a little so that it rests against yours. âYou can say no and Iâll still tell you of course. You know I just like my eye contact.â He says it with just a hint of a smile and self-teasing tone to try and get you to smile.Â
And itâs small, but it works. Your lips pull up just slightly for a second. You chew on the inside of your cheek for a second before you turn around and let him help you get you up to sit on the edge of the counter.Â
âThank you.â Jack steps between your legs and leans down to kiss your forehead. âYou want me to grab your shirt?â Heâs cognizant of the conversation youâre having and the fact that youâre topless, scars on display. You give him a little nod and he grabs it from the pile of your clothes you made to the side of the door. âI say your shirt, but I really mean my shirt, donât I?âÂ
Youâd been wearing one of his old shirts thatâs a bit oversized on him, soft and worn in and smelling like him. You stay quiet and nod. Jackâs heart almost throbs in his chest at how much he hates seeing you like this, this upset. Your tears have stopped now though. Little victories. Once itâs on he rests his hands on the tops of your thighs, rubs his thumbs in what he hopes are soothing circles.Â
âYour scars donât remind me of one of the worst days of my life. Looking at them doesnât send me back to the hospital or torture me. Pretty much the exact opposite.â This time itâs your brows that furrow. âTheyâre a reminder of what happened, sure. Of what I almost lost. But itâs that part thatâs important. What I almost lost.âÂ
âYou know what you didnât have in any of my nightmares?â Your eyes widen a little because you know what he means, what heâs going to say. âScars. You only had wounds, fresh, stitches still in them. No scars.â Jack squeezes at your hands. âWhen I was in that operating room holding your dead body, you didnât have any scars. So your scars, looking at them, when I look at them, they donât torture me or send me back to one of the worst days of my life. They tell me that youâre alive. They remind me how hard you fought to stay here with me. They remind me how strong you are. They remind me that youâre here with me, healing and living.âÂ
Jack moves his hands from your legs and sets them on the outside of each of your thighs on the counter, hunches over a bit and leans on them as he moves forward to kiss your forehead again. You bring your arms up and set them on either side of his neck, fingers playing in the curls at the nape of his neck.Â
âYour scars are proof that youâre alive. And so your scars will never be anything less than one of the most beautiful and important and comforting things I could ever look at.â He says it so seriously, so firm and settled, looks you straight in the eye as he says it. It makes a few tears slide down your cheeks again. âSecond only to your face and you in general, okay?â He nods as he says it.Â
He brings a hand up to wipe away the tears that have fallen. âCan I give you a kiss?â
You nod as a couple more tears fall. Jack takes your chin between his thumb and index finger and tilts your head up so he can kiss you. Itâs gentle, soft and sweet and lingering as he just holds you there. He pulls back but then goes back for another quick one.Â
Both you and Jack are surprised you havenât started fully bawling into him, but thereâs something in your chest that stops it from coming out like it needs to. You couldnât describe it if you tried.Â
âBed? Or you wanna shower?â
It takes you a moment to answer. Not to decide. Just to answer. âJust bed, please.â
âOf course, Doll.â Jack steps back from between your legs and helps you get off the counter safely before taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bed. You both slide in and Jack takes his prosthetic off and gets an arm around you, pulls you into him as he leans up against the headboard.Â
You let him, let your head rest on his chest and let his arms wrap around you and let him hold you close as you think about everything he said. You believe him, you do. You know he would never lie to you and when you think about it all it makes sense. You just wish it were the same for you. Wish you could look at them and feel something, anything other than crushing guilt.Â
Because for you theyâre a reminder of a traumatic event but more than that theyâre a reminder of what you put Jack through. What you continue to put him through now as you try to heal physically and mentally.Â
Sometimes, maybe a lot of the time recently, you go back to that place. That place where you just wish it would stop, be over for the both of you. Wish you hadnât made it out of the OR or the courthouse. That place where your brain tells you that Jack would be better off without you, that itâs unfair of you to ask him to do this all with you, that heâs only here with you still because he feels some sort of weird responsibility for what happened to you, that even if he doesnât think he could, he would survive losing you and he would properly grieve and he would move on and find someone else. Someone whoâs less work, less of a burden. Someone whoâs better. That it wouldnât even be that hard.Â
The rational part of you knows that those thoughts arenât true. That Jack is here because he loves you, more than anything, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. That he would not survive losing you or properly grieve or move on. That if he knew he would tell you that youâre not work at all, not a burden, that he could never do better. That he had an entire nightmare about having to bury you and it hurt so bad that even weeks later when he thought about it he was physically sick and broke down in the kitchen.Â
Jack doesnât push you, just like you never push him. He does get worried though. He hates to see you cry but this silence is somehow worse.Â
âYou wanna go to the bookstore tomorrow?â He asks it just to ask. Just to fill the silence and help distract you and maybe keep you out of your head. Or from getting further into it.Â
You can feel the vibration of him speaking as your head rests on his chest. âHm?â Â
He kisses the top of your head. âBookstore tomorrow?â
âMaybe, yeah.â Itâs an odd answer from you. âI donât know.âÂ
Jack nods slowly. âItâs okay to not know. And Iâm here if you want to talk or have me listen. Whatever you need.â
You hum at his words. âI donât know anything anymore Jack,â you admit.Â
You feel his arms hold you a little tighter. He doesnât understand and something about the way you say it scares him a little. âWhat do you mean?â
The something in your chest that was blocking everything from coming out starts to crack. âI donât know,â you whisper, high pitched and cracking. âI donât know how to do this.â You pull away from him and move so that youâre sitting next to him with your legs crossed so that you can face him.Â
âI know Iâm in therapy. And I know it helps. And I hate to think about what Iâd be like without my therapist.â You shrug, chin trembling and tears lining your eyes as you look at him. You look so sad and it kills him.Â
âBut I still donât know how to do this Jack. How to heal, how to grieve. I donât know how to heal the tremendous guilt I feel. And everyone says to let myself grieve and what the fuck am I grieving? I donât have anything to grieve. I didnât lose anything! Not like you. Itâs not the same as what you went through. You lost a piece of yourself. I happened to get shot and spent time in the hospital and yes I almost died but I didnât lose a piece of me. And so I donât know what Iâm grieving and I donât know how to grieve or what Iâm grieving or how to heal from this⌠this amorphous concept. This thing, that just happened to me. This event. And I shouldnât need to! I shouldnât need to grieve or heal. Thereâs nothing there. I donât have anything to grieve or heal from, and I shouldnât be like this! And Iâm not trying to throw what happened in your face Jack, Iâm not, I promise, and Iâm not for a second saying you somehow had it easier because there was a more tangible thing to grieve, if anything itâs the opposite, you lost a piece of yourself and I lost nothing. You had so much to grieve and heal from, you needing to grieve and heal and struggling that makes sense. I lost nothing. I donât even know what I have to grieve. I donât know.âÂ
All the tears in your eyes spill over at once. You bring your shoulders up to your ears in a held shrug. âI donât know, Jack.â Heâs never heard you sound so small. Not even that âokayâ you gave him in the hospital was like this. The guilt and shame and embarrassment all flood you, make it hard to look at him. âI didnât say anything even though Iâve been struggling because-âÂ
You shake your head, try to wipe some of the tears off your face, look down at your hands in your lap. âI just donât know how to do this, whatever this is. And itâs like recently Iâve lost all the words to even try and begin to explain how I feel or felt. I lost all the words.â You force yourself to look back up at him because when you admit this and apologize you need to be looking at him. âI lost all the words and my head got so fucked up that I didnât know how to ask for help, from anyone.âÂ
Jack catches the change in tense. You had said you donât know but now youâre saying you didnât, like somewhere along the way in this conversation, this admission, this time with him, you found the words again.Â
You shake your head a little as more tears slip down your cheeks. You whisper now, voice thicker than heâs ever heard with emotion. âNot even you. I didnât know how to ask you for help Jack.â You try to hold back a small sob through your teeth. âAnd Iâm sorry. Iâm so, so sorry. I just didnât know, I wanted to, I just couldnât. Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm-â Youâre cut off by the wracking sob that youâre finally able to let out as that something in your chest shatters.
âOkay, shh.â Jack shushes you softly as he reaches for you while you let yourself fall forward into his chest, rolling on your side slightly to get your legs stretched out as he pulls you on top of him and cradles you against his bare chest. He isnât shushing you to get you to stop, only for the comfort of it.
Jack hates this. He hates seeing you suffer so thoroughly. He hates the way he canât hug you and put you back together, the way he canât fix this for you, canât take away your pain. Canât take on all of the pain for you. Jack believes you when you say you didnât know how to ask, knows that you werenât trying to hide it from him, just like he wasnât trying to hide his shit from you.Â
âIâve got you,â he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. âItâs okay. You have nothing to be sorry for.â He repeats it as he continues to hold you, rocks with you at times like you did with him. âYou have nothing to be sorry for.â âIâve got you.â âIâm here.â âYouâre okay.â âI love you.â One arm keeps you close, his other hand rubbing your back in circles. He knows thereâs very little he can do right now except hold you through it.Â
With time, you run out of tears, exhaust yourself out of crying and just sniffle and hiccup into Jack. He keeps holding you, doesnât push for more from you.Â
âItâs just so hard.â Your whisper breaks the silence after a good five or so minutes.Â
You can feel Jack nod. âTalk or listen?â he whispers.Â
You try to think about it. Youâre not really sure what you want. âI donât know,â you admit, âIâm sorry, I donât know.â You try to stop yourself from getting worked up again, the reality of one more thing you donât know hitting you hard.Â
âShh,â Jack soothes you, âitâs okay, you donât need to apologize and you donât need to know. Itâs okay. I promise.â His hands rub up and down your back and he kisses the top of your head. With how escalated you are right now he thinks eye contact will be too much so he just holds you tight as you are. âIâm going to talk. And if you want me to stop, just say so, okay?â
You nod. Jack takes a breath in as he tries to think of how to start and how he wants to say what he has to say. âYou donât ever need to apologize for struggling and not knowing how to ask for help.â Thereâs a pause as Jack realizes how guilty he feels about that. He knows he canât focus on himself right now. You need him. âI think maybe we need to try and find something that you could do, that both of us could do honestly, that doesnât require words but would let the other know we needed help. So then we donât need words and can still get help.â
âProbably, would be good, yeah,â you mumble against him.
âGood. Weâll figure something out, promise.â Heâs quiet for a moment to give you the chance to say youâve talked enough for the night, but you donât. âAs for the other part, I know and understand and hear you when you say that you donât know what youâre grieving and that you donât have anything to grieve. But Doll, you do. You have so much to grieve, so much you are grieving even if itâs hard for you to see or understand right now. There doesnât have to be some tangible loss like a foot or a person for you to have something to grieve. I hate it, and I wish that I could make it different and better for you, but you did lose a piece of yourself.â Jack feels new tears wet his chest but you donât ask him to stop or make a noise so he continues. He knows heâs not whatâs making you cry. That itâs just hard to hear and realize. âYou lost a piece of yourself the moment that gun went off, and the moment you watched someone die in front of you,â he addresses the one thing you donât talk a lot about because youâre not ready yet. It took a while for you to even be able to tell him. âAnd the moment,â he has to take a breath to steady himself because itâs still so hard to say, âthe moment that bullet hit you, and when you almost died and over weeks in the hospital. All of those things take something from you, even if itâs not something tangible. Youâve lost a piece of yourself. And youâre grieving the person you were before you lost it. Youâre grieving the you who didnât know this type of violence, the you who didnât know what it felt like to be shot, or what it felt like to be drowning in your own blood, or what it felt like to be septic or what it does to you to watch someone die in front of you or how it feels to see reminders of what you went through permanently on your skin. Youâre grieving the person you were. And youâre grieving other things that I donât know because Iâm not in your brain. But those ones I said, those are ones I can see you grieving and struggling with and I hope it doesnât feel like Iâm being condescending or trying to define your grief for you, because Iâm not. Iâm just trying to tell you what I see in the hopes that itâll help you be able to see, or give you a starting point.â
You shake your head against his chest. You know heâs not doing any of that, he didnât even need to say it but you find it sweet that he did. âI know,â you sniffle. âI do. And it does help and somewhere deep down I know what Iâm grieving, all of those things. Some things I probably canât articulate. I just feel like I donât know how to grieve. This isnât the first time Iâve had to grieve obviously but I donât know. I donât know if itâs all the guilt making me feel like I donât deserve to grieve or heal and should be stuck in this weird limbo forever or what. I just donât know how.â
You both sit with your words for a minute. âI wish I had answers,â Jack finally murmurs. âBut Iâm not sure if anybody really knows how to grieve.â He tries to think of more to say that might be comforting or helpful. Before he can you speak.
âI got you all wet and snotty, Iâm sorry.â You lean off his chest a little and put your hand under your shirt and bring it up to try and wipe him off. Jack understands you. Youâve talked enough for the night.Â
âDonât apologize, itâs okay,â Jack laughs softly, grabbing at your hand to get you to stop. âTwo of the most benign bodily fluids Iâve had on me, and theyâre yours. Plus, I think Iâve done the same to you recently.â
âThatâs different.â
âI knew you were going to say that,â he shakes his head, gives you a little tap on the ass.Â
âItâs true!â you protest. âI was wearing a shirt. Youâre not. Thatâs different.â
âStill.â He knows youâre technically correct. âI did the same to you. And Iâm pretty sure I cried tears onto your face while we were, you know⌠at the table.â
You burst out laughing. âWhile we were at the table? Thatâs what weâre calling it?â
âItâs not incorrect.â He shrugs, beaming just from hearing you laugh and being the one to pull it from you.Â
âWell, actually, I think it was more you were at the table. I was on the table,â you point out.Â
Jack shakes his head and smiles at you. âPrepositions are overrated.âÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Jack donât argue often. But youâre humans. Humans who went through a major trauma together. And humans arenât perfect. Individually or as a couple.Â
Neither of you even remember how it started. And youâve somehow moved far, far away from what you were initially discussing and starting to bicker about. But youâre here now and things are escalating into a kind of argument. Even with the escalation you never raise your voices at each other, never yell. Still. Itâs neither your nor Jackâs finest moment.Â
Jack has never pressured you into going outside. He knows itâs still hard for you, knows how much it scares you. But he also knows that you really need to and that itâs never going to get less scary. He knows that he needs to go outside but doesnât want to leave you, feels like he canât leave you or something will happen like when he left you that time in the hospital. And you know that you need to go outside. Itâs just so scary. You were shot. Youâve put Jack through so much, and when you think about outside you think about what if something else happened, when will it be too much for him, you canât keep asking him to do this.
Jack isnât pressuring you to go outside but he does ask. Again. In the space of minutes.
âI donât want to, Jack.â Your tone has a snappy edge to it. Youâre getting frustrated. At yourself more than Jack.Â
âYouâre going to have to go outside eventually, Doll. For more than me driving you to a doctor or therapy or the bookstore.â Jack tries to keep his tone even. Heâs getting frustrated too, also more at himself than you. Something about his words stings when you know he doesnât mean them to, know itâs because youâre escalated and more sensitive in a way. The way he says it makes it seem like heâs not doing those things with you, just driving you somewhere. Chauffeuring you. Like he doesnât want to be doing it. âAround the block, please. Nothing major. Iâll be with you the whole time, okay? I wonât let anything happen to you.â
You shake your head from where youâre sitting on the couch, knees coming up to your chest. âI donât want to. Asking me eight more times isnât going to change my answer.âÂ
âIâm worried about you!â Jack stands across the living from you in jeans and a shirt. Actually dressed compared to you in lounge clothes that are effectively pajamas. âIâm not trying to pressure you,â you canât help the little face you make at that, âIâm really not, I promise. Iâm just worried. You need to go outside. Get some fresh air. Youâre holding yourself hostage here. Youâre holding me-â
Jack stops as soon as he realizes what he was about to say. But he knows from the look on your face that itâs too late. And heâs right. It hits you like a slap to the face, far worse than he even realizes or could imagine. Because youâve never really explicitly or in any detail told Jack about the guilt you have from effectively asking him to do all of this with and for you, about how guilty you feel that his entire life has been turned upside down and that he was confined to the hospital and is now confined to home because of you, because youâre scared to go outside. About the guilt of feeling like his jailer. Or hostage-keeper, apparently.
Itâs a silent type of panic. One that pulls a band around your chest and stomach making it hard to breathe and sends adrenaline through your veins to chill your fingers and toes and has tears hitting your eyes.Â
âDoll, I didnât-â
âNo, Jack, finish the goddamn sentence.â Your voice is eerily calm now. Jack takes in and lets out a breath, tilts his head and goes to speak. âNo Jack. Finish the fucking sentence.â
âI didnât mean it like that, and you know that. I wasnât thinking when I said it, phrased it like that.â Jack sighs, running a hand through his hair.
âPhrased it like what? Like you resent me? Like youâre getting tired of me? Of having to take care of me?â Youâre pushing some of his buttons now, a little more deliberately than he had initially pushed yours.Â
Jack clenches his jaw and tries to breathe through his hurt and rising frustration. âI donât resent you, nor am I getting tired of you or having to take care of you.â
âYou just feel like Iâm keeping you hostage in your own home?â Itâs cold, the way you say it. Icy. The guilt eats away at you. You hate yourself for what youâve put him through.Â
âYou wonât even try, Doll! I know you know I need out of this house and you wonât even try!â A push back at your buttons. Jack knows that itâs not a matter of trying. He knows itâs not that simple. Just like you know he isnât growing tired of you or caring for you.Â
âYou wonât try leaving me alone,â you fire back. âI got fucking shot and I donât want to go outside. So why donât you try just leaving me here alone if you want to go outside that badly?â That one really hits a nerve, harder than you realize because Jack hasnât directly expressed just how guilty he feels about what happened when he left to go down to the ED that time in the hospital. How fucking responsible he feels for what ended up happening, for you almost dying. How he thinks itâs completely his fault and could have been prevented, easily.Â
âBecause the last time I left you alone you ended up coding in front of me and coming a centimeter and a half away from dying!â Jack takes a quick breath. He hates himself for what he let happen to you. âYou donât even know what you donât fucking know! I watched my best fucking friend intubate you and do CPR on you and shock you. I watched them crack your chest. I have seen your literal fucking heart.â Thatâs all new information to you and it makes you hate yourself a little bit more even though you know that wasnât Jackâs intention. âI have sat by you while you were in a coma for five fucking days, all because I-âÂ
You cut him off before he can finish his sentence. All because I left you and so I wasnât there to notice you getting sicker and to feel your fever before you went septic and threw a PE.Â
âOh well I am so sorry Jack, that I went to work and got shot and almost died-â
âDonât.â The way he says it is almost dark, low and deadly serious, face set and eyes piercing the thick tension between you. Thatâs the line for him. The almost flippancy in your tone.Â
Jack holds his hands up. âI need air.â You donât say anything as he walks over to the entryway and puts on his shoes. âI love you.â He puts his hand on the door handle and pauses.
âI love you too.â The door opens, Jack walks out and it shuts, key turning the deadbolt to lock a few seconds later.Â
The sudden quiet of your apartment is what seems to bring you back down. You take a gasping breath in as everything you said to him sinks in. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, tears wetting the back of it. Youâre pretty sure youâve never hated yourself more.Â
You stay there on the couch, are stuck there really, unable to bring yourself to move. All you can do is cry and think about how to apologize to Jack. You start ruminating and edging toward panic thinking about whether heâll be able to forgive you, whether you guys will be able to work through this. You know itâs panic and that you guys will be able to. That both of you said things you didnât mean and that were designed as jabs at the other. But yours feel so much worse than anything he said to you. Even when Jack forgives you, you donât know if youâll ever be able to forgive yourself.Â
Jack takes a couple of steps away from your apartment door but stops. He canât. He canât go any further. He knows he needed air and was right to step out and get some and help diffuse things between the two of you because that conversation was not going anywhere. But his fear is still there. So he walks back and slides down the wall right to the side of your door, convinces himself that this way heâll hear you fall, if something happens. Heâll know.Â
Sitting in the quiet brings Jack back down too, gives everything he said to you the chance to sink in. He runs his hands over his face and through his hair before bringing the heels of his palms to his eyes and pressing in. Heâs pretty sure heâs never hated himself more. He gets panicky too, it gets hard for him to imagine how you could ever accept his apologies, how he could ever make this right. He knows that youâll forgive him, and that youâll work this out. He just doesnât know how heâll forgive himself.
Neither of you even cares what the other said to you. Not really. Both of you can hardly even remember what the other said to you now, in part because it doesnât matter. It was said out of frustration and hurt and a deep grief, none of it was meant. Things just boiled over. And in part because all you can remember is the terrible things you said to the other.Â
Jack doesnât sit there long. It canât be more than twenty minutes. Youâre on your feet the second you hear the door start to unlock, walking closer to it and trying to wipe the tears from your face quickly. Jack pushes it open and looks at you, looks just as devastated as you feel and you hate it. He walks in and closes and locks the door.Â
âIâm so sorry.â You both say it at the same time and it makes you smile a little at each other. Youâre both moving then, walking towards one another until you meet and pull each other into the tightest hug.Â
âI was so out of line Jack, Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean any of it.â Jack can feel your tears wet his neck and it makes him squeeze you a little tighter.Â
âI was too. Way out of line. I didnât mean it either. Iâm so sorry, Doll.â Jack kisses the top of your head.Â
The anxiety hits you a little harder being in Jackâs arms for some reason and you start to tremble. âI feel so awful, and I promise the tears arenât manipulative or for guilt or to distract, Iâm just so sorry and I hate myself for what I said and I donât want to lose you.â
Jack frowns to himself. Heâd like to have a strong word with whoever made you feel like you have to explain your tears. âI promise you that I never, for even a second, thought that. Now or any time in the past. I donât want you to hate yourself, but I get it because I hate myself too right now. I donât want to lose you either.âÂ
A few tears of Jackâs own slip down his face as he says it at the thought. âYouâre not going to lose me,â you whisper.
âAnd youâre not going to lose me,â he whispers back. âLetâs go to bed.â
You pull away from him a little. âWe can go out, if you just give me a couple of minutes to change-â
Jack shakes his head. âI donât want to go out right now, I just want to be in bed with you, holding you close.â Jack brings a hand to your face and cups it, brushes some of the tears away. âIâm just as insecure as you are right now. Just as shaken. And not by anything you said. By myself, for what I said.â
You lean into his hand. âHow do you always manage to do that?â Jack raises his eyebrows to seek clarification. âRead me so well. Know how Iâm really feeling.â
He shrugs, like itâs simple and obvious. âYouâre my favorite book. Iâve got you so well memorized youâre an easy read.â You give him a sad nod and look down at his chest. âHey,â he guides your head back to look at him when you donât resist. âThat was so cheesy and deserved at least a pity laugh.âÂ
You give him the smallest one through your nose. You love this about him, itâs one of the ways he takes care of you when youâre upset, tries to make you laugh a little when appropriate to help distract your mind. Usually it works. Youâre just a little too shaken yourself for it to right now.Â
âI,â you try to find the words. âIâm not upset or shaken by anything you said either. I just want to make sure you know that.âÂ
âI do.â Jack nods. âHonestly Doll, I barely remember what you said to me. All I can hear in my head right now are the things I said to you.â
You give a slightly bigger laugh through your nose. âSame. I can only hear myself, only remember my words.â You know youâre preventing him from getting you in bed where he wants to be, but you have one last thing to say. âI donât want that to ever happen again Jack, I donât ever want to hurt you like that again, Iâm so sorry.â
âIâm sorry too, and I donât want to hurt you or say things like that to you ever again. But right now, I think we hurt ourselves more than we hurt each other.â He leans down and you share a kiss, three actually, each one lingering, an apology, forgiveness given and declaration of love from both of you to the other. âWeâre going to figure it out, okay? I promise.â
Jackâs promise is how the two of you found yourselves here. Couples therapy.Â
It wasnât one personâs suggestion. After the argument the two of you had been talking in bed, trying to work some of what you each said out. You both talked about your own therapy and it just kind of dawned on you both at the same time and you both agreed, easily, even laughing together when you said it at nearly the same time.Â
You stand outside the office with Jack. You hate the term, feel like it implies something. But nothing is wrong between the two of you. Just the opposite. After your argument you both knew you needed guidance on navigating your guilt and healing as a couple, not just as individuals. Both of your therapists had recommended the same couples therapist when asked, one who specializes in helping couples who have gone through an acute traumatic experience together. Â
Nothing changed after the argument. You were both clingy the rest of that day and for a few days after. If anything in some ways it made you guys feel stronger as a couple. But at the same time neither of you ever want it to happen again.Â
So here you are. You know it wonât make you as individuals or partners or your relationship perfect because thatâs impossible. And you both know youâll hurt each other again as you heal from this and move through life together because youâre human. Neither of you expect perfection.
Jack squeezes your hand as you stand there. You squeeze back, hard as you let out a big breath.
âPreventive medicine,â Jack reminds you. Youâd admitted to him one day how much the term couples therapy freaked you out and how you knew it was stupid and nothing was wrong with you guys or between you guys but it still freaked you out. Jack had suggested calling it preventive medicine, asked if that might help. You werenât sure you were sold but knew youâd pick apart any potential name for it and preventive medicine was better than coupleâs therapy to you for some reason.
âNothing is wrong?â Sometimes you just need reassurance from him. Heâs always happy to give it.Â
âAbsolutely nothing. Iâm not mad or upset with you. Iâm not hurt. I donât resent you. I love you. More than I did yesterday, less than I will tomorrow, whatever the fucking saying is. Weâre okay. I promise. And if weâre ever not, if we ever even get remotely near being on the same planet as not being okay I will tell you.â Jack kisses your forehead. âThis is a good thing. Itâs smart. They tell people to do this before they get married even when one of them hasnât just been shot and almost died.â
You smile at him, soft and a touch somber, but a smile nonetheless. âI know. And thank you. Iâm sorry, I know Iâve been so insecure and worried lately and asking for so much reassurance.â
âIâve been the same,â Jack reminds you. You hum and shake your head as if to question him. âI have been, at least a little bit. And you give me reassurance. You donât mind. You say youâll give it to me as much as I need it, never take it personally because you understand. The same is true for me. I will give you however much and whatever type of reassurance you need as much as you need whenever you need and I will never take it personally. I understand too. Iâd rather you ask than live with worry that could be soothed by asking, yeah?â
You nod. âYeah.â You lean into Jack for a second and take in a deep breath. âAlright. Iâm ready. I donât know why I even had to stand here and become ready, but whatever.â Jack smiles to himself because he loves when you do that kind of self-commentary. âYou ready?â
âIâm always ready for anything with you Doll.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is obviously the first of you to return to work. Itâs not something either of you are looking forward to really. In a sense you both are because it checks off another box on the return to normalcy. But youâre not looking forward to being alone and Jack isnât looking forward to leaving you.
The two of you talk and decide heâll start with half shifts, give you both some time to adjust back into things. He had been working days but he thought maybe nights would be better until you were back to work, youâd be asleep when he was gone that way. You were fine with it and so thatâs what he worked out with Robby.Â
Itâs strange sitting on the bed watching him pull on black scrubs that have been folded so long theyâre a little creased. Itâs been a long time since you last saw him in scrubs. It makes you smile because it reminds you of life before the shooting. And he still looks incredibly, incredibly fucking hot in them.Â
âWhat?â He smirks as he looks at you after pulling his scrub top on over his undershirt.Â
âI didnât say anything!â You give him a look of mock offense. You really are doing your best to temper your anxiety about tonight.Â
He narrows his eyes at you a little and walks to stand in front of where youâre sitting on the edge of the bed. âYou didnât have to say it. I could just feel it.â
You lean your head forward onto his tummy and rest your forehead there for a moment before looking up at him. âThat so?â He gives you another smirk and nods. âIâm not allowed to appreciate how good you look in scrubs anymore, Dr. Abbot?â
Jack steps back and takes your hands to pull you off the bed. âOf course you are. Doesnât mean I wonât tease you about it.â He uses one hand to hold your face before leaning in and kissing you, hard, a little bit of tongue. Just because he can. He pulls back just far enough so you can see each other and gives you another smirked smile before kissing your forehead and releasing you.Â
The two of you walk back into the front room together, and you sit on the couch and fidget with your fingers while Jack looks through his backpack to make sure he has everything he needs. You grab your phone, try to distract yourself with it so he doesnât feel you staring at him the entire time. You donât want to make this any harder for him. Both of you know the other is just as anxious.Â
Jack glances down at his watch. He needs to leave. The urge to pull out his phone and call Robby to say he canât make it in is immense. But he, and you, know that this day has to come eventually. He walks over and sits next to you on the couch. âYou gonna be okay?â He grabs one of your hands in his to help ground you, get you to focus on him.Â
âYeah, Iâll be alright.â You try to give him a brave smile but youâre not sure how well it lands.Â
âI want you to call me or text me if you need anything, okay? I mean anything. If I have to leave early then I have to leave early.â His eyes flit around your face trying to make sure heâs reading every little bit of you. âAnd if for some reason I donât answer the phone, call the hospital, yeah?â
âI know Peter,â you murmur, bring his hand up to your face and lean your cheek against the back of his hand. âIâll be okay though. Really. It might be hard at first but Iâll probably just end up falling asleep and then youâll slip into bed beside me before I even know it.â
âI really hope so, Doll.â Jack leans in and kisses your forehead, lingers for a moment before he pulls back and looks back down at you. His brows are creased, mouth just slightly pulled down, eyes a little wider than normal. Heâs concerned, worried about you. You hate seeing him like this. You know part of it goes back to his nightmares about coming home and finding you dead.
âItâll all be okay in the end. Youâre coming home to me.â You manage to give him a real smile, as small as it is, and it visibly helps him relax.Â
Heâs able to return it. âYes I am. Always.â He stands up and you follow, walk him over to the door.Â
âText me when you get there, yeah?â
âCourse. And you text me during the night if you need, okay?â You nod at him, give him another little smile as he pulls his backpack over one shoulder. He pulls you close to him in a tight hug, kisses the top of your head before letting you pull back and kissing you. âI love you. So fucking much.â
âI love you more,â you murmur before stealing another kiss. Normally heâd argue with you, but tonight he lets you have it.Â
Jack opens the door and steps out and you close it behind him. You both know that if he turned and looked at you he probably wouldnât end up going in. He waits to hear the deadlock before he takes a few steps away. He has to stop though and just breathe for a minute before finally setting off.Â
You lock the deadbolt and then rest your forehead against the door, one palm flat on it. Tears hit your eyes and you feel so fucking ridiculous about it. Like some clingy, codependent fiancĂŠe who canât stand to be away from her man for more than ten minutes. You try and remind yourself that this is okay, youâre allowed to feel what youâre feeling and you being upset isnât because youâre clingy or codependent. Itâs because you went through a major trauma and are healing and itâs your first time truly being on your own since you were shot. You know this wonât last, that it wonât always be like this, but in this moment it feels like it will and it overwhelms you.
Your hand itches to undo the deadbolt and dart out after him, beg him not to leave you. But you canât do that. This is something that has to happen. So you pull yourself from the door and head back to the couch for a second before getting back up to go do the dishes from dinner. You thought it might be a good distraction. Instead it just reminds you that heâs not here doing them with you.Â
Your phone dings as you finish loading the dishwasher and washing the pan that canât go in it. Itâs Jack letting you know he got to work. He keeps typing, and you chew on your lip as you wait to see what heâs going to say.Â
J - I just want to let you know that itâs slammed here tonight so Iâll probably be busy and not around a ton. But Iâll check my phone often even if I canât always reply. So text me if you need to, or call me or the ED. I love you.Â
Your heart falls at his words and some part of you feels selfish for it. Itâs good. Itâs good for him to be there and be busy and have that distraction and get back to normal. It just sucks you wonât have him to talk to much. You had tried to prepare yourself for this, tried to operate under the assumption that he wouldnât be around much but a part of you, apparently a big part, still held onto the hope he would.Â
Thereâs also the unspoken meaning of the Pitt being slammed. The chances heâll get off on time are probably slim to none unless some miracle happens. You try to tell yourself it doesnât matter. Youâre going to be asleep anyway. But will you really?
Jack is anxious to get a text back from you, glancing at his phone nonstop while Robby goes over the board with him. This was exactly what he did not want to happen. He didnât want it to be slammed. Busy, fine. He appreciates the distraction it brings. Heâd still be able to respond to you more even if not as frequently as heâd like. And slammed means the chances of him getting off in six hours are a fraction above non-existent. He knows you know that too.Â
He also knows that heâs the lucky one out of the two of you. He canât afford to be distracted here. So he has to do some kind of compartmentalization. It doesnât mean he wonât miss or worry about you constantly. He will. He just has to force himself to stay present where heâs at. His inability to be distracted here is itself a distraction from his anxiety and missing you.Â
It feels selfish. He knows that you donât have the same luxury at home, if anything itâs the opposite. You have to try and find things to distract yourself so that you donât end up getting too into your head. He knows that sometimes you struggle to come up with ways to do that, or that you think of ways but canât convince yourself to do them. He gets it. Heâs been there himself. And up until now heâd been there to distract you when you couldnât do it for yourself. But now heâs not.Â
So heâs anxious as he waits for a response. He knows youâre just staring at your phone trying to think of what to say. Heâs trying not to think about the likelihood of teardrops hitting the screen of your phone and magnifying whatever they fall on. Heâs trying not to think about what you look like when you cry like that, completely silent with the tears slipping down your face.Â
Youâre looking down at your phone enough that the first tear to roll off your face hits the screen. You shake your head at yourself. You need to get a grip. Itâll be fine. Youâll be fine. Jack will be fine.Â
You - Iâm glad you made it there safely. Thanks for letting me know, I hope the night isnât awful. Let me know when youâre on your way home. I love you
Jack feels better for about half a second when your name finally flashes on his screen. But then he reads your message. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back for a second before looking back down at his phone. He can feel your dejection through the phone. For his part Robby gives Jack space, doesnât comment on it, intercepts a couple of people who want to welcome Jack back. It takes Jack a moment to decide on what to reply. He knows that it doesnât matter what his reply is, itâs not going to make anything better.Â
J - Of course. Donât forget you have a couple new books on the kitchen table and all of wedding pinterest and the knot to explore. I love you more
His message does manage to pull a little laugh from you. Heâs so sweet, your Jack. Reminding you of things you could do to keep yourself occupied and distracted. You look around the kitchen and take in a deep breath, try to hype yourself up.Â
Itâs going to be okay. Youâre going to do this and be fine and Jack will be so proud of you. You can do this. You grab your laptop and settle on the couch, put a show you like on and start looking through pinterest like Jack said. It goes well at first. Until you see something you really like and go to turn your computer and look over at Jack to show him. The realization hits you then that youâve only ever done this with him.Â
Fine. Thatâs okay. You have books. You turn the TV off and go look through the stack, pick one out and curl back up on the couch. Reading also goes well at first until it finally hits you that youâve been staring at the same page for quite a while now because itâs hard to see through your tears. You set the book down and feel so defeated. You want to be okay so badly, for Jack and for yourself. But it seems the more you try to be the more you arenât.Â
You check your phone. 7:47. Nothing from Jack, not that you expected anything, especially since effectively no time has passed since his last message. You donât know why you canât do this, why itâs so hard. And that just makes you more upset.Â
You get up once you start sniffling from the tears and just take yourself to bed, curl up in a ball on it with a box of tissues and let yourself cry. You grab your phone several times, have to fight the urge to call him and plead for him to come home. You have to fight the urge to get up and grab an uber and show up at the ED. The only good thing about crying is that itâs exhausting, and the swelling of your eyes makes you feel even more tired. And so you slip under without even realizing it.Â
When Jack finally gets a second to check in and look at his phone sometime around 10:00 heâs a little surprised to see nothing from you. Itâs unlike you. Normally youâll text him often throughout your day, even if he canât reply. Just little things. What youâre doing. Something funny that happened or that you saw. A photo of something that made you think of him. A moment on a show he doesnât watch but that you want him to see. But then he realizes the problem with his thinking. Normally.Â
Normal at this point is synonymous with âbefore you were shot.â Because nothing has been remotely normal since then. Itâs all been temporary. The hospital was temporary. Him being at home with you was temporary. Even his half shifts are temporary. And you both want normal back. But itâs not. And even when it is you both know itâll be different, and thatâs okay. A new normal is okay. But youâre not there yet and so, Jack realizes, thinking about what youâd normally do is futile and deceptive. He is surprised he hasnât gotten anything wedding related though. He thought youâd take him up on that suggestion, go on pinterest, send him things you find and like.Â
J - Finally have a second. You doing okay?
Before he can even start to wait for your reply Parker is grabbing him for help with a patient and his phone is back in his pocket. He tells himself heâs just been moving a lot and so thatâs why he hasnât felt his phone vibrate with your message. But when he pulls his phone out at 12:23 and thereâs nothing from you he canât help the pit of dread that starts to form in his stomach.Â
Flashbacks of nightmares play in his head. You dead on the kitchen floor. You dead in your bed. You dead on the couch. He stops himself. You must be asleep. You just fell asleep early. Hell, maybe you took some sleeping meds just to make it easier for yourself and were asleep before his last text. That has to be it. Even though heâs sure you wonât see it, because youâre sleeping, he sends another one with the news you both saw coming.Â
J - Hope youâre sleeping well. Iâm going to be stuck here past 1. Iâm hoping for 3/3:30, at most 4. I promise as soon as I can get out I will. Iâm sorry. Love you
You wake with a start, covered in cold sweat, heart racing, chest heaving. It takes you a minute to fully come to. You had a nightmare. You were back in that courtroom with gunshots deafening you as you tried to hide. And then that body collapsed in front of you just like it did that day but this time you do recognize the person when their face rolls towards you as they bleed out, eyes fluttering closed.Â
Jack.
You think you woke up before you even got shot, though youâre not sure. Youâve never been able to remember exactly when it happened. All you know is you saw Jackâs face and Jackâs blood and then mercifully woke the fuck up. You take a second to try and come down, look over at your phone and see itâs just after 2:00 and Jackâs messages. Your heart is crushed a little by the disappointment of him being home late even though you expected it. If he had gotten off on time heâd have been here, might have woken you getting into bed, might have stopped you from having that nightmare and that image of him seared in your brain. You know itâs not fair to put that on him and you arenât, you donât blame him. You just canât help but think it.Â
Itâs what makes you burst into tears, again. Your disgust at yourself for even coming close to thinking about blaming him. And then youâre crying about all of it. Tears of anger at yourself, tears of frustration with yourself, tears of despondency about getting better, tears of panic from seeing Jack in your nightmare, tears of sorrow that heâs not home, tears of disappointment with yourself that you couldnât do this one night, tears of confliction about being alive. You wear yourself out again.Â
But this time you donât go back to sleep. Instead you get up and take a shower to rid yourself of the sticky cold sweat that covers you. You hold some ice to your face once youâre out, hope itâll help with the swelling of your eyes and lips enough that Jack wonât notice, especially in the dark. You toss the copious tear soaked tissues in the bathroom garbage and put the tissue box back where it was so that Jack won't see anything amiss and crawl back into bed. The exhaustion of crying pulls you under again.Â
Jackâs out at 3:13. He hates it. Heâs still on edge because still nothing from you even though he didnât expect anything. He lets you know he's on his way home anyway. He cannot be home and have eyes on you soon enough. The drive is at least short at this time of night. Thereâs no lights on when he opens the door. Part of him is relieved because that would make sense if you were sleeping. But part of him is just put more on edge by the darkness. He doesnât let himself think about it much, drops his backpack and gets his shoes off quickly and then is heading for your room.Â
As much as he wants to, he doesnât turn the overhead light on. He can make out your form on the bed so he steps over to the bathroom and reaches in to flick the light on, leaves the door open to give him just enough light in the bedroom to look at you. Normally the sight would turn him on, immensely. It still does, he can feel it. But tonight thatâs overshadowed by the way it breaks his heart because he knows what it means.Â
Youâre curled up on his side of the bed, head on his pillow, wearing one of his shirts and holding another close to you, clutching it to your chest really. He lets out a slow breath through his nose as he takes you in. His brows furrow a little. Heâs not sure if itâs the lighting or if your eyes and lips are really a little swollen. He makes himself let go of the thought for the moment so that he can grab a pair of pajama pants and just get in bed with you.Â
When he walks in the bathroom properly it hits him. Itâs a bit warmer than your bedroom, a bit more humid. And the smell. It smells like he just showered. Which means you showered recently and used all of his products so that youâd smell like him. Itâs so sweet but it hurts, that he wasnât here when you so clearly needed him. He tries to set that aside and not feel guilty, think about and apply what you guys have learned in coupleâs therapy but itâs hard. And it gets harder when the pile of white catches his eye and he sees all of the tissues in the trash can. It wasnât the lighting. The swelling is real. You cried. A lot.Â
Youâre not sure what wakes you but when you force your eyes open you realize the bathroom light is on which means Jack is home. Itâs the first time youâve smiled since he left. âPeter?â you call softly as you get out of bed to walk to the bathroom. Jackâs out of his scrubs in just his pajama bottoms.
âHey, Iâm sorry Doll, I didnât mean to wake you.â You shake your head at him, meeting him at the doorway to the bathroom.Â
âIâm just glad youâre home.â You push your lips out for a kiss he happily gives you. âMissed you. Were you okay?âÂ
âI was yeah. Being slammed was good at keeping me distracted." He frowns for a second because he knows how not the case that was for you. He leans in for another kiss. "I missed you more,â he murmurs against your lips, hands finding your waist.Â
You hum back against his lips as he kisses you again. âIâm going to let you have that only because I was passed out most of the night.âÂ
Jack nods at you. But you can tell from the speed of it that he knows. You just give him a little shrug to tell him you know he knows.Â
âWhy didnât you call?â Itâs soft. Heâs not angry at you or upset with you in any way. Just curious. You look away from his eyes down at his bare chest and give another little shrug. âDid you need me?â
âI was okay⌠eventually,â you admit. One of his hands finds your chin, gently pushes it up to see if youâll move your head up to look at him. You donât resist so he tilts your chin up.Â
Jack gives you a small smile and keeps his voice low and gentle and he hopes comforting. âThat doesnât answer my question.â The hand still on your waist gives it a small squeeze. âYou can be okay and still need me, or trying to convince yourself youâre okay and still need me, or trying to be okay and still need me.â He raises his eyebrows a little at you.Â
You look at him for a beat and then let out a big sigh, lean forward and into him a bit so that your forehead rests against his chest. âI hate it when you do that,â you grumble against him.Â
âWhatâs that?â He leans down and kisses the top of your head.Â
You move your forehead off his chest but plant a kiss there before looking back up at him. âSee right through me,â you murmur through a watery smile. âI donât know how youâre so damn good at it.â
âWell,â Jack nods slowly, âin your fourth year of med school they pull a couple of students aside, obviously the ones they think are the best since I was one of them, and they teach us x-ray vision.âÂ
You let out a huffed laugh but smile at him. âI really thought I was about to learn something about med school.â Â
âAre you saying you donât believe me?!â He gives you his best surprised face.Â
You roll your eyes at him and laugh a little with him but it quickly turns into trembling lips and you shaking your head.Â
âOkay baby, come here,â Jack whispers, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, one hand finding the back of your head and holding your face against his chest.Â
âIt was so bad Jack, it was so bad,â you choke out through a strangled sob. âAnd I donât want to do this, I donât want to cry into you tonight or this morning or whatever the fuck it is. I just want to get in bed and be with you.â You sniffle and try to pull yourself together.Â
âI know.â He rocks you just a little, presses his lips to the top of your head and lets them linger. âBut we can be in bed together and you can be crying if thatâs what you need.â As he speaks he flicks the light off and settles one hand on your hip and slowly begins walking you backwards toward the bed.Â
âIâm tired of it being what I need,â you mumble. At least youâve managed to stop the tears. You turn once your knees hit the back of the bed so that you can slide in, Jack following you once he has his prosthetic off. âI justâŚI had a nightmare.â
Jack cringes as he settles and holds his arms open for you. âIâm so sorry.â He knows all too well how much they can rattle you and fuck you up for days. How long it can take to get them to a point of only happening a few times a year. How much therapy and EMDR heâs had to do to help with his over the years. âDo you want to talk about it?â
You sigh as you curl into his side and drape your top leg over his, rest your head against the crook of his shoulder. The hand of Jackâs arm thatâs now behind you starts rubbing your back up and down. âI was back there. In that courtroom on that day. And it was all the same and as much as that sucked it was fine. But then I got to the part where that woman collapsed in front of me and died but,â you have to pause and try and get yourself closer to Jack. âBut it wasnât her. It was you.â Jackâs shifting onto his side a bit more at that and pulling you closer into him, pressing the front of his body against yours. He positions you so that you can rest your ear up against his chest. âAnd unlike her you rolled your head to look at me as you were bleeding out and then I woke up.âÂ
You hear the click of Jackâs jaw as he opens it to say something. But it never comes, instead you just feel his head shake a little. You let yourself focus on the beat of his heart underneath your ear, the warmth of his skin. âIâm so sorry,â he finally whispers. âI know itâs not my fault but I am so sorry that you had to experience that Doll.â
You shrug a little. Apparently youâre all out of tears for the night. Youâre too tired for them. And here in Jackâs arms with his heart beating under your ear itâs not so scary. Thereâs an odd sense of calm that fills both of you. You feel kind of bad, like you've taken this for yourself, haven't talked about how he did at work. But you know there's time. âDonât be,â you whisper, turn your face a bit to nuzzle into his chest. âAt least I didnât have to live through your funeral. Iâve got that goinâ for me. More than you can say.â
He can feel your lips turn up in a smile against his chest. And he has to let out a laugh at it too. Because youâve hit a point where you can start to make small jokes about whatâs happened, what youâve both been through. Because itâs all so miserable and horrific that if you guys donât laugh youâll cry. After a second you pull your head from his chest and look up at him. He looks so amused with his wide closed lip smile, shaking his head at you slightly that you have to bite your lip to stop from laughing. But that makes him crack and start properly laughing and so you do too.Â
You guys laugh until it hurts, until the smallest tears slide out the corners of your eyes. âIâm sorry, that was probably so insensitive of me-â
âNo,â Jack keeps laughing, âno. No, Doll that was so fucking needed, fuck me. The laughing feels just as cathartic as crying right now.â
âI agree,â you giggle as you both start to wind down. You lean in to kiss him and Jack keeps you there, nipping at your bottom lip and tugging at it a little when you try to pull away. âNeedy,â you murmur teasingly.
âFor you? Always.â You lay there and kiss. Kiss and make out in bed pressed against each other simply because you want to feel close and because you can. Itâs not leading anywhere as good as it feels and as wired as it makes both of you. You can feel him growing hard against you and yourself growing wetter for him but youâre both content to stay like you are.Â
Eventually the kisses slow. Youâre both sleepy, and between snuggling with each other and all the kissing itâs quick to catch up with you. Just as you both start to nod off you think of something. âHey Jack? Maybe no more night shifts.â Itâs all sleep slurred and in that drowsy tone you get that he finds particularly adorable.
He laughs a little through his nose. âNo more night shifts,â he agrees, just as groggy.
When you wake up the next day Jack is able to get in touch with Robby and switch things back so that heâs on days again. Something about the daylight makes it a little easier for you, and you donât seem to have any nightmares when you sleep snuggled into Jack. The next time he goes to work for half a day shift sucks still, but significantly less than that first half a night shift. Each time it gets a little bit easier, even when Jack is finally back to regular twelve hour shifts.Â
And then eventually itâs your turn to go back to work. Itâs not just going back to work, itâs going back to the place you were shot. Both of you are on edge. Jack hates the thought of you having to go back there, it sends his anxiety through the roof even though he knows logically itâs probably the safest courthouse in the entire country right now with all the heightened security.Â
âYouâre sure you donât want me to go with you?â Jack asks you for probably the tenth time this morning alone.Â
âIâm sure,â you call to him from the bathroom as you finish getting ready. Jack appears in the mirror behind you, stopping at the doorway of the bathroom. You look at him in the mirror. âItâs okay, Iâm ready. I can do this.âÂ
You sound more like youâre trying to convince yourself than you are Jack. âYou can call me. If you need anything.âÂ
âI know,â you nod, âI promise I know and that if I need you Iâll call.â You turn to look at Jack and start walking towards him. Half of you feels ready for this, is craving the normalcy that being at work will bring. The other half knows youâre probably not quite ready. You havenât even been by the building to expose yourself to it.
You pick at the breakfast Jack made you, stomach churning too much to feel hungry and making it hard to swallow anything down. He doesnât comment on it as he sits at the table across from you working on todayâs crossword, isnât going to pressure you into eating more or potentially make you feel bad by calling you out on it. He gets it. He didnât eat much dinner the night he went back to work for that one half a night shift.Â
Itâs going to put your shoes on where you really start to let yourself realize how not ready you are for this. You stare down at them for what feels like ten or so seconds but is in reality close to a full minute. Jack knows because he glances at his watch after the first few seconds pass and you donât move to put them on.Â
Finally you force yourself to and grab your bag. You take in and let out a deep breath and ignore how shaky it is as Jack walks over to you. He doesnât want to smother you in reassurance and reminders you can call him or end up letting an ask for you to stay home slip out. âHave a good day Doll. Call if you need and Iâll be here waiting for you when you get home. I love you.âÂ
Jack leans down and kisses you, one that lingers followed by a bunch of softer pecks. âI will,â you nod. âIâll see you tonight.â You put your hand on the door handle and open it a little. âI love you more,â you smile up at him. He lets you have it this morning.Â
As you walk out the door and close it you know immediately youâre not ready. Jack knows you arenât ready. But you try anyway and he doesnât try to stop you because this is something you need to do for yourself.Â
It doesnât take too long to get there, the commute is generally fairly easy even though itâs busy. You walk up to the courtyard of the courthouse and stare at the entrance. It feels like you canât breathe and youâre aware of how badly your hands shake. Your heart races as you try and tell yourself you just need a minute and then youâll go in.Â
But everything just gets worse. All you can hear is screaming and gunshots, taste that metallic flavor of adrenaline, and smell sulphur and smoke. You canât do this. You so cannot fucking do this.
You get yourself back enough so a trembling hand can get your phone out of your bag, unlock it and hit Jackâs name. He answers on the first ring. âIâm not ready Jack, I canât do this, I, I, Iâm stuck outside and I need you, please come, Iâm sor-â
âDoll,â Jack interrupts you. âTurn around.â
You do and standing at the edge of the courtyard is Jack.Â
He hangs up his phone as he starts moving to you, shoving past a couple people with a distracted excuse me because he just needs to get to you. He knows that you donât want to fully lose it here, not with the potential for people you know or work with every day to see. And Jack doesnât want it for you either. He knows you hate crying in front of people, that it took a while for you to be able to cry in front of him.Â
âIâm here,â heâs saying as he gets to you, arms reaching out before heâs even all the way there to start pulling you into him. âIâm here, Iâve got you, youâre okay.â Your hands slide around his waist and clutch at the back of his shirt as you close your eyes and press the side of your head to his chest.Â
You breathe him in, smell your laundry detergent and his body wash and him. You focus and let his heart beating become the only thing you can hear. The metallic taste in your mouth starts to fade.
âReady to walk?â Jack whispers as he feels you start to calm down. You nod against him and so he lets go of you. A hand finds your lower back and starts directing you over to a bench outside of the courtyard facing away from the courthouse.
You both sit and he pulls you as close as possible, wraps the arm closest to you around your waist to keep you close as you rest a hand on his knee. Jack brings his other hand across his body and rests it on top of your hand, laces your fingers together from above.Â
Jack doesnât pressure you, doesnât ask you for details or if you want to talk or what exactly happened. He just sits there with you holding you close. You tilt your head and let it fall onto his shoulder. He tilts his head and his lips press against you where they can reach before he lets his head rest on yours lightly.Â
âI feel so ridiculous,â you murmur after a while.Â
Jack squeezes your hand. âWhy?â
âI knew the entire morning I wasnât ready. I just wanted to be so bad so I didnât listen to myself.âÂ
âI know. I knew,â he murmurs. âBut that doesnât make you ridiculous. Just human.â
âYou knew?â you whisper, pull away to look at him. âHow?â
âYou told me as much with your eyes and the way you hesitated before you did anything related to getting ready this morning.â He squeezes your hand. âBefore picking up your hairbrush and putting your bra on and picking up your mascara, that type of stuff. Your hand hesitated for just a second or two before you grabbed whatever it was. And then when it took you as long as it did to get your shoes on I just had an intuition or gut feeling or whatever you want to call it that I should be here.âÂ
âYou didnât try to stop me?âÂ
âNo,â he shakes his head and gives you a small smile. âIt was obvious that you needed to do this. Come here. Try. Get yourself back in front of this building. You needed to do it for yourself and I wasnât going to interfere with that, no matter how badly I wanted to stop you so you wouldnât hurt. You needed to do this. My role is to support you and help you with your healing. Not to dictate how you do it.â
You take in and hold a long breath before letting it out through your nose and shaking your head a little. âYouâre way too fucking good for me.â
Jack gives you a look. âNot even gracing that bullshit with a reply,â he parrots the phrase you love to use back at you.
You give him a little eye roll and a smile. âI just should be better, Jack. I should be able to go back and get back to normal. But then I got here and itâs like it was yesterday.â
He nods slowly. âI think it was yesterday in a sense, Doll. This is your first time even being in front of the courthouse since it happened. Thatâs one. Two,â he pauses to take a breath and look down and away from you for a second. âA very, very smart woman,â he looks back up at you with a small smile, âonce told me that should is a stupid word. Nothing should or shouldnât be. Things just are. And itâs okay for them to be as they are. Itâs okay for this to be as it is.âÂ
Youâre quiet for a few seconds before you let out a huffed laugh through your nose. âI canât believe you just used my own words against me twice in a row.âÂ
Jack clicks his tongue and shrugs. âI can be a real dick sometimes canât I?â
You roll your eyes at him again and lean back into him. âMaybe. But youâre my dick, so itâs okay, Iâll allow it.âÂ
That makes him roll his eyes at you and chuckle. âYeah, Iâm your dick, alright. Iâm glad to hear youâll allow it,â he teases.Â
âIâm actually quite impressed that you remember that entire little speech I gave you,â you admit after a few minutes.Â
âRepeated it to myself a lot. Still do. Well, really in my head youâre saying it to me and I hear it in your voice. So I guess I have you repeating it to me a lot.â He pauses. âItâs important to remember.â
âI suppose it is.â You pull away again to look up at him. âThank you. I love you.â
âAlways, Doll.â The kiss he gives you is quick yet ardent. âI love you too.âÂ
Thereâs a lull as the two of you just sit on the bench and exist together, soak in the sun.
âYou wanna go to bath and body works?â Jack breaks the silence. An amused smirk pulls on your face as you pull away to look up at him. âCandles are on sale. $12.95. And they just released a bunch of new scents.âÂ
You know heâs offering and that he keeps tabs on when theyâre on sale and when new scents come out because he knows how much you enjoy candles and the fun of smelling them. You bite your lip and look up at him all dreamy. âYouâre perfect, you know that?â
âNah,â he shakes his head and stands up, offers you his hand and helps you off the bench so you can head to the store. âJust in love.â
You take a bit more time for yourself before you try going back again, go and sit outside the courthouse with Jack and alone. And the next time you go back to work Jack goes with you, holds your hand all the way up to the employee entrance. He gives you a kiss goodbye and holds the door open for you, watches you for a second before he lets the door close. He waits outside on a bench for a bit, just in case you decide youâre not ready again and need him. But you donât. And so Jack smiles to himself as he gets up and heads back home.Â
Normal. Things are finally starting to get back to normal.
But, as it turns out, normalcy is a fragile thing. And so things are finally starting to get back to normal.
Until they arenât.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you so so much for reading, I hope it was okay!
Part 4 will be out soon!! This weekend for sure! And then we're straight into Quiet 2 which I am so fucking excited for! I have many many plans! How many exclamation points can I use in a row!!!!!
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I LOVE how you write the lads guys!!! May I please request taking advantage (in a kind way, of course) of zayneâs medical expertise and asking him silly medical questions? Just like really random stuff! lounging around with him at home or being out and about while asking those questions would be so funny and Iâm sure he would kind of like it lol
Note: This idea is too cute, I love it. Thank you so much, luvly. I felt like this works best as headcanons, so I hope thatâs okay. đ Enjoy!
Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!
Warning: Just a brief explicit headacanon after you and Zayne have been intimate.
Zayne/Reader
â´ď¸ Dating a doctor meant that you officially had a walking medical encyclopedia for a boyfriend and you had no shame in utilizing his knowledge. Thankfully for you, Zayne was always happy to deliver whenever you asked him all kinds of questions.
â´ď¸ I feel like when you start getting comfortable enough to ask him, itâs really simple things. Like itâs questions about your personal health at first. Youâve definitely asked him something like; âBabe, how do I make my headaches go away faster?â and âWhat do you think are the best vitamins I should take so I donât have to keep taking gross ones that arenât doing anything?â
â´ď¸ Not only does Zayne answer your questions, but he gives you some deeper insight so that you have your own knowledge about things. And you like learning from himâespecially because of the way he looks at you as you stay hooked onto his every word.
â´ď¸ He loves the little text messages you send him. You ask him something almost everyday, sometimes even attaching a photo for reference LOL. I picture you at the supermarket, stumbling upon these new health beverages that you want to try out. But if your Dr. Zayne says that theyâre simply drinks full of more sugar than actual benefits, youâll have zero problem putting them back on the shelf. âDo any of these actually work for gut health? I sent you the nutrition label. What do you think?â
â´ď¸ I believe he always takes your questions seriously, but you have moments where you ask him something so ridiculous that he canât help but laugh. âZayne, babe⌠I ate like three apples and a pomegranate, and now my mouth feels weird. Am I dying?â Donât catch him on a day where heâs feeling goofy either, because he might scare you a little bit.
â´ď¸ âYou may have oral allergy syndrome, my love.â Just imagine his tone being dead serious and the silence that follows. And when you start losing it over the phone, he tries to calm you down, but heâs just smiling so hard at your theatrics. When you search it up and you start worrying if youâll ever be able to eat another mango again in your life, he tries to suppress his laughter, all while attempting to soothe you at the same time.
â´ď¸ Youâll be walking around while you guys are on a date and will randomly ask him how many calories does he think youâve burned, just to see how accurate he is compared to your walking app that tracks all of that for you. Not only does he get incredibly close, heâs also able to do the same with the amount of steps youâve actually taken.
â´ď¸ âQuick, weâve been walking thirty minutes, normal paced. How many calories? Go!â
â´ď¸ Just wait till you start watching one of those medical shows. You never watch an episode without him because you have to know how accurate the writing is. Heâs gotten through three seasons with you and sometimes, heâd answer questions before you even asked because he just knows you so well. And you legitimately learn so much that even you start pointing out unrealistic things yourself.
â´ď¸ âThat doesnât even make sense. He was hit in a major artery, wasnât he Zayne? He shouldnât even be able to argue with a doctor right now.â Heâs so proud of you, by the way. How information sticks with you. And honestly? He finds it sexyâparticularly knowing that heâs the reason why you know the things that you do.
â´ď¸ Times when you try to eat healthier, you always ask him how many calories something will be if you take something out or off. Like youâd still eat junk food or foods that arenât exactly healthy, but you wonder what the difference will be if you add a vegetable. LOLLL.
â´ď¸ âZayne, if I put only mushrooms on the pizza, is that better?â
âHoney, I think itâs best to just discard the pizza entirely in order to properly fulfill the goal you intended to reach.â
âBut ZayneâŚItâs Friday and itâs pizza.â
â´ď¸ Some more questions off the top of my head from you would be; âIf I eat more carrots than usual, will the decrease my chances of having to wear those thick bifocals when weâre old?
âIf Iâm on top more often when we have sex, will that tone my thighs out more?â
âHow is it possible to drink a gallon of water a day? Thereâs just not enough time to drink all that liquid.â
â´ď¸ Omg, you totally believe that ginger is like the cure all and you even make him eat a raw slice of it a day LOLLLL. He admits that it has its benefits, but when he tries to tell you that you have to do more than just eat ginger, you listen, but youâre still so insistent about it.
â´ď¸ âDespite the benefits and your complete belief in the sacred ginger, love, please make sure you continue to take your daily supplements. Add to your regimen so that you improve your healthâdonât take from it believing that something is an optimal replacement.â
â´ď¸ This one is a little explicit. But, I imagine you and him finish having sex, heâs on top of you, both of you already came and feel good. And even when youâre breathless, even with the glorious man above you, you canât help it when you ask: âDo you think weâve met our quota on physical activity for the next few days?â
â´ď¸ Zayne canât help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your neck. But heâs also filthy enough to move his hips just a little, hinting that he in fact could go again and says, âI think itâs best to try again⌠One more time, just to be safe. Iâm sure the quota will be more than met once Iâm finished with you.â
â´ď¸ Of course youâre going to let him fuck your brains out again. Why wouldnât you let Dr. Zayne take care of you? What kind of patient would you be if you didnât?
#love and deepspace#love and deespace smut#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x you#zayne x reader#lads zayne#love and deepspace headcanon#zayne smut
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HOW YOU MET DEALER!NAGI â. đ Ë
ę° dealer!nagi m.list ęą
the first time you met dealer!nagi was at one of isagiâs frat parties, a red plastic cup in your hand and a flirty smile painted on your glossy lips, looking up at him with a glint nagi couldnât quite make out.
he was way hotter than you thought heâd be when isagi mentioned him in conversation, your mind already plotting on him as soon as you saw him walk in with a nonchalance that was unusually attractive, the countless alcoholic drinks slipping past your lips.
but lucky for you, nagi felt the exact same. seeing you, your glossy lips and pretty eyes look up at him like that. you really know how to get a guyâs heart racing, he thinks.
and later on that night at the peak of the party, you found yourself propped up on a bathroom counter, your legs spread with your glossy folds on display as nagi licked up your slit with his eyes closed like heâd been transferred to heaven, looking back up at you through heavy lids with his stoned, red eyes.
it had your stomach swirling with butterflies, watching him teasingly lick your clit with a faint smirk while his hands knead on the plush of your thighs. he knew exactly what he was doing, and his high was giving him a type of confidence he didnât usually have.
but you couldnât help yourself from gently entwining you hand with his, a playful glint in your eye from the flowing conversation you and nagi had just been having before leading him to an empty bathroom at the party. but itâs not like nagi was complaining, not at all.
you feel your back arch as nagiâs tongue flicks on your clit, using his digits so scissor your entrance while curling them up at just the right angle, hitting that sweet spot of yours. the way your hands went to his hair, gently tugging while attempting to hold back your moans causes a groan to leave nagiâs lips - the vibrations making your hips buck.
you were close, your head falling back onto the bathroom mirror before muttering, âfuck.. mâclose.â
he looks up at you, wide eyed while licking his bottom lip covered in your slick before replying, âiâve got you, angel.â
his fingers curl faster, more rough as they abuse your sweet spot - your velvet walls fluttering as you feel that build up of hot white pleasure hit your core. he doesnât leave his mouth unused, sucking and licking at your puffy clit with the overwhelming pleasure leaving your head empty of thoughts. youâve never been fingered this good before.
itâs an instant when it comes, the pleasure hitting your body like a ton of bricks where you writhe and your hips buck. you fail miserably at holding back your moans, pretty and uneven whimpers falling from your lips that nagi canât help but smirk at.
he looks up at you, watching your come down with a heavy chest before standing back up, placing his hands at the side of your hips before gently kissing your lips, âi wouldnât mind doing that again sometime.â
you breathe out with a smile, âmhm, you want my number?â
he nods like an eager pup. there was no chance in hell nagi was every gonna say no to that, especially with that glow to your face after heâd just made you cum ridiculously hard.
he just wondered what he was about to do with the growing stain of his own cum on his pants now - looking down with a pout. he definitely enjoyed that a little too much.
Š dollbrbie | donât plagiarise or translate any of my work
#ę° dealer!nagi ęą#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk smut#bllk#blue lock#blue lock x you#bllk x you#bllk nagi#blue lock nagi#seishiro nagi x you#nagi x you#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi smut#seishiro nagi#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#bllk seishiro#seishiro nagi smut#nagi seishiro smut#nagi seishiro x you
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could you write a storyline where spencer goes down on the reader who has never had anyone go down on her and shes extremelely insecure of down there and hes obsessed and stuff
yall loveeeeee this man eating pussy, and ill feed it to you enjoy
cw: oral sex (f. receiving), first time oral, body insecurity, soft dom!Spencer, worship kink, praise kink, filthy talk, gentle teasing, emotional smut, established relationship
REQUESTS OPEN!
You'd let Spencer do everything but this.
Kissing, grinding, his fingers inside you while his mouth murmured in your ear â but never his mouth down there. Not once.
The idea of it made your stomach twist. You knew what girls were supposed to look like, smell like, taste like. You knew what porn showed, what jokes men made. And you werenât that. You were soft and messy and not some neatly airbrushed fantasy.
Spencer didnât push. Not once. But you saw the look in his eyes sometimes â the way his gaze lingered on your thighs when they trembled, how his mouth parted when he fingered you and watched you fall apart. He wanted it. Badly.
But he wanted you more.
So he waited.
Until the night you let your guard down.
It started with you straddling his lap, making out on his couch, his long fingers inside your panties, curling in just the right spot while you moaned against his mouth.
"God, you're so wet," he whispered, breath shaky. "You always get this wet for me?"
You nodded, eyes hazy, burying your face in his neck. âFeels so good, Spence.â
And thatâs when he said it â soft, reverent, a little bit desperate.
âLet me taste you.â
Your body went stiff. âSpencerâŚâ
âI mean it,â he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. âPlease. Iâve wanted to for so long. You donât have to do anything. Just let me⌠worship you.â
You hesitated. âI donâtâIâm not like⌠I donât look likeââ
He cut you off with a kiss. âDonât say that.â
âSpenceâŚâ
âI love how you look,â he said, firmer now. âI crave you. I think about eating you out constantly. I wake up hard some mornings just remembering how you moan.â
You gasped, burying your face in his chest. âYouâre just saying that.â
He gently tipped your chin up. âNo. I mean it. Let me show you.â
You hesitated. Then slowly, heart racing, you nodded.
He moved you to the bed like you were made of glass.
Soft kisses. Soft hands. Stripping you slowly, carefully, until you were naked beneath him, shivering but not from cold.
He kissed your inner thighs, again and again, teasing your skin with his lips and breath and barely-there touches. You tried to close your legs instinctively, but he gently eased them apart.
âDonât hide from me,â he whispered. âYouâre beautiful here. Especially here.â
You were trembling. âWhat if I donât smell good? Or look good? What if you hate itââ
He looked up, eyes blown wide with need.
âI already know I wonât. I know your body. Iâve had your taste on my fingers. I dream about it.â
He licked his lips, then leaned down, kissing the crease where your thigh met your core.
âYou donât have to be perfect,â he murmured. âYouâre mine. And youâre perfect to me.â
Then his tongue flicked out, gently teasing your folds.
You gasped, hips jerking. âSpenceââ
âRelax,â he whispered, voice thick with hunger. âIâve got you.â
He licked you like he was starving.
Long, slow, deep strokes of his tongue, starting gentle and then building rhythm, groaning against your skin when your thighs started to shake. His hands held your hips down firmly, anchoring you in place while he tasted every inch of you â lips, folds, clit â like he was memorizing you.
You were panting now, unable to stop the cries falling from your lips.
âOh my god, Spencerâwhatâwhat are youââ
He pulled back just long enough to whisper, âTasting the sweetest fucking thing Iâve ever had.â
Then he buried his face back in your pussy, moaning when you arched, desperate and trembling.
You tangled your fingers in his curls, too overwhelmed to think. His tongue circled your clit now, then sucked it gently into his mouth. Your body snapped.
You came with a cry, thighs clenching around his head, and Spencer held you through it â never letting up, still licking, soft and slow and loving even after your body shook.
When he finally looked up, his lips and chin were slick. His eyes were blown wide with hunger and awe.
âYou okay?â he whispered.
You could barely nod. âBetter than okay.â
He crawled up and kissed you hard, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.
âNext time,â he whispered, âI want to do that for hours.â
You laughed, breathless, and pulled him back into your arms.
#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x fem reader
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ONLY IF ITâS YOU
pair: jack hughes x f!reader | part: 01 02 03 04 05
genre: angst, slow-burn romance, emotional reconciliation, domestic fluff.
warnings: mentions of past infidelity, emotional vulnerability, suggestive content, eventual smut (consensual), bittersweet moments, emotional crying, co-parenting themes, soft family dynamics.
summary: itâs motherâs day, and for once, you decide to let yourself feel like you deserve to be celebrated. jack invites you and lo to dinner, and though youâre hesitant, you agree if only because things have been⌠change lately. eversince that kiss. eversince you started to see how much jack has changed. tonight, jack brings back everything you once had, flowers, your favorite restaurant, and hope. by the end of the night, after lo is asleep and you and jack are alone, what started with a dinner ends with something more.
fiaâs note: okay, so iâve been thinking about the whole sammy situation and her presence like, the fact that she exists and the role she plays, even if itâs indirectly. iâm not totally sure how to feel about it yet, but i keep circling back to it in my head. her existence just adds this layer of emotional tension thatâs hard to ignore, you know?. i guess iâm wondering what your thoughts are. like, do you think her being there whether physically or just in memory affects how things unfold between jack and reader? does it make the angst feel more real, or just more frustrating? iâm torn between appreciating the depth it brings and also wanting to pretend she doesnât exist at all for the sake of peace. anyway, just curious what you think about her and how you process that part of the story. is she necessary? or just an added ache?
tagging team fia! â @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs
fiaâs masterlist | join fiaâs taglist | fic discussion

Itâs been months since that dinner with Lukey.
Just a simple dinner, not even a date. But the way Jack looked at you that night when you dropped Lo off at his place, he didnât even try to hide the jealousy. And when you returned later, he asked you to stay.
And then there was the kiss, like he knew he didnât deserve it, but he also couldnât live without it.
Since then, you hadnât talked much about it. There were no dramatic declarations or official reconciliation. But the distance between you and Jack had changed. It was closer now. You didnât flinch when he touched your hand. He made you tea when you came over and sometimes after she fell asleep youâd sit on his couch and talk for hours and hours.
Motherâs Day wasnât something you ever celebrated. You never really had time, and honestly, you didnât think you even deserved it. You were just doing what had to be done. Working hard, trying to keep your life steady for Lo. But eversince that dinner and eversince learning from Luke that Jack hadnât even looked at another woman since the breakup you found yourself believing maybe, you were allowed to want something called âto be loveâ again.
So when Jack texted that morning, inviting you to dinner, you hesitated. You werenât sure if it was a date or just⌠Jack being Jack. But then you thought about the kiss, the way he still looked at you like you were everything in his life.
You said yes.
In the evening, you took your time getting ready. Not for Jack. Not even for the idea of romance. But for yourself.
You wore a long black bodycon dress, your makeup and hair done just the way you liked it. You needed to feel beautiful for yourself, for the mother you were, for the woman you were finally becoming again.
Lo was just as excited. She twirled in her soft pink dress, her high ponytail bouncing with every spin.
âMommy, pwetty,â
She whispered when you helped her buckle her shoes.
You smiled. âYouâre the prettiest, baby.â
Lo giggles. âYou pwetti too.â
You kiss her forehead, feeling your heart tug. âYou ready to see Daddy?â
Lo nods eagerly. âDaddy say he have fwowers!â
Just then, a knock sounds at the door. You scoop Lo into your arms and make your way over, heart already skipping.
Jack stood there in a sleek black suit, holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box wrapped in ribbon. He looked at you, then Lo, and the smile that stretched across his face made your knees wobble a little, just a little bit.
âSorry Iâm late,â he says, just a little breathless.
âI stopped to pick these up for you.â
You smile, taken aback. âJackâŚâ
He grins softly and hands them over. âHappy Motherâs Day.â
You swallow the lump in your throat and say thank you, even as Lo squeals,
âFwowers! Mommy got fwowers!â
Jack remembered, it was one of your favorite place. It was the place he always took you when he came back from road trips, the place you once celebrated your anniversary, the place where youâd cried in a booth and he kissed away every tear.
Lo was seated between you and Jack in a little booster. Her legs swung back and forth, her mouth stuffed with breadsticks, occasionally pointing at random things on the menu and saying,
âDis one! me wanna try dis, Mommy!â
And Jack, he kept sneaking glances at you.
âSo,â you say, sipping from your wine glass,
âWhat happened with that Rangers game? Looked like it got heated.â
Jack shrugs. âLuke pissed them off. I mostly just backed him up.â
Lo hums with her juice. âDada go boom!â
Jack chuckles. âYea, Lo. Daddy went boom.â
Eventually, as the food quiets everyone, you ask him something thatâs been sitting on your chest for months.
âJack⌠why didnât you date anyone all these years?â
He blinked. âWhy havenât you?â
He looked at you for a long moment. âBecause I screwed everything up. Because I was stupid. Because after what I did, I knew I didnât deserve someone like you. I didnât want anyone else. Not then. Not now.â
He tilts his head. âWhy didnât you?â
You hesitate. âI told myself I was too busy with Lo.â
Jack gives you a look.
âThatâs not true, though.â
âNo,â you admitted, quietly. âItâs not.â
Lo, without any warning, looked up at the two of you with innocent eyes.
âMommy, Daddy, can I has⌠brudder?â
You and Jack both in âkinda donât know what to do nextâ position.
âA brother?â you asked gently.
âOr⌠sisser,â she said, nodding.
âI want baby! Wanna share toys.â
âYou do?â you ask softly.
Lo nods, swinging her legs. âA baby. Wike me.â
Jack smiles but looks over at you, his eyes soft and unreadable.
âMaybe someday, sweetheart.â
By the time Jack parks in front of your place, Lorelei is out cold in her car seat. You glance at her, then at him.
âWanna stay the night?â you ask softly.
Jack nods. âYeah. If thatâs okay.â
Inside, you tuck Lo into her bed, brushing the hair from her face. When you come out, you find Jack in the entryway, holding one of the framed photos on your hallway table.
Itâs the one of you and Lo on her first birthday cake smeared everywhere, your smile wide, hers even wider.
âYou look good,â he says, still staring at it.
âYou lookâŚlike the mom I always imagined sheâd have.â
You step closer. âWhat are you thinking?â
He exhales. âThat youâre the best mother Iâve ever known. And the stupidest thing I ever did was not treat you like you were enough.â
He continues, voice quiet.
âThere were nights after you left⌠I told Quinn I didnât care if I died alone. I told Luke Iâd never fall in love again if it wasnât you. And I told my mom I didnât deserve to be forgiven.â
Your chest at this moment already cracks open.
âI havenât been with anyone,â he says, voice almost trembling.
âBecause itâs always been you. Even when I couldnât have you.â
You step into him slowly, your breath caught.
And this time, you⌠you are the one who kiss him first.
His hands come up to your waist, pulling you in carefully, so careful like heâs scared to ruin you. Your fingers slide into his hair, lips pressing again and again.
When you pull away, your forehead rests against his.
Then he kisses your temple.
You lead him to your room after that kiss with no words spoken, but everything said in the silence between your mouths and the hands that refuse to let go now. You and Jack stand in your doorway, your fingers still tremble a little when they reach for the zipper of your dress, but Jack catches your hand.
âPlease let me,â he says gently.
He unzips you slowly, like itâs the first time all over again. Like he knows how delicate it is. The dress slips from your shoulders. He watches you like heâs afraid to breathe too loud and break whatever fragile thing is blooming between you.
When he leans in this time, itâs with more certainty. His lips find yours, long and aching. You can feel it the way he misses you. Still. Even standing this close. Itâs like heâs trying to memorize your taste again.
âAre you sure?â
He asks between kisses, his forehead resting against yours, breath heavy but steady.
âBecause if we do this, I donât want it to be another memory I have to miss.â
You nod, eyes shining.
âIâm not ready to say Iâm yours again,â you whisper honestly, your voice shaky.
âBut Iâm not scared to love you anymore.â
#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes angst#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes series#jack hughes fanfic#dad!jack hughes#dad!jack hughes x reader#dad!jack hughes imagine#dad!jack hughes imagines#dad!jack hughes series#dad!jack hughes fanfiction
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wintersoldier cumshots maybe? your fics give me life. ill claim đą!!!
oh u fucking know it anon. emoji is all yours!
if there's anything this man is obsessed with, it's proving his claim on you. he's super possessive. and kind of going off my last tws post, he needs to know that he's it for you. he needs you to know that you're it for him, even though you don't have anything close to a normal relationship.
so marking you is his fucking favorite.
I can see him binding your wrists together, resting up above your head while you lay on the bed, making you watch as he jerks himself over your naked body.
his face is so close to yours as he holds himself up above you with one hand, eyes roving up and down your body, the way you're tied up and your legs are spread apart for him.
but you're just watching his face.
he's rarely very expressive, but sometimes you get lucky when he's like this. he's worked up, mind consumed by thoughts of all the things he wants to do to you. so you get to see his face contort with every thought, every feeling, his emotions finally on display for you to see.
deep down, he can't help but crave the validation that you belong to him. maybe the thoughts of needing you begin to overwhelm him, so he leans in to leave little bites all over your chest, your collarbone, almost up to your neck.
he grabs your arms, bound at the wrists, and pulls them over his head to hold him close while he continues to leave hickeys and groans as he thinks of you while fucking his fist.
he wants to mark you for the world to see, leaving bruises over your neck, but that's not feasible.
"mark me where only you'll see it," you've told him before. "only for you and me to see."
he wants to mark his claim for the world to know.
but something about what you've told him, something about the fact that it's something for just the two of you makes him, that he likes.
suddenly a thought comes to his mind, and he fucking moans because of it.
he untangles himself from your arms around him and moves to straddle you just right...
and he lets himself go, releasing all over the marks he's just left on your chest and your tits.
he's hard again just from the fucking sight of it.
he hears you let out a low noise when you see it, too, and fuck he could spend all goddamn day doing this to you.
he smears his release all over, pressing his thumbs into the marks to make you squirm.
next stop: your thighs.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#winter soldier x reader#bucky#winter soldier fic#winter soldier fanfiction#the winter soldier#winter soldier smut#dark bucky barnes x reader#dark winter soldier#dark bucky barnes#dark bucky#iamthatonefangirl#đą#đą anon
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Iâm worried | Yeon Si-eun x reader

Summary: Si-eun always was and will be afraid of something happening to Y/n.
Warnings: swearing, fighting, angst, fluff, comfort, parental conflict.
Wc:2.8k
Based on this request
Notes: Letâs pretend Si-eun didnât get hit by the truckđĽ°đĽ°
ËËË â
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It all started when you were little. Your and Si-eunâs mom were good friends, so of course they would bring you to their house when they met up.
At first Si-eun didnât exactly like you, he felt like he was forced to hang out with you. Your character was too much for him, always talking, always asking questions.
It always amazed you how Si-eun was so smart, way above his age kids in studies. As long as you have known him, he always had his head in his books.
And gradually, he started to engage with you more, answering your asked questions in detail, helping you understand questions you couldnât get the hang of.
You started nagging your mom, âWhen can we go see Si-eun?â âCan we go out with them today?â. As you both grew, you grew closer. He started opening up to you, little by little. At that moment you felt so close to him, how such a boy, who buried his emotions so deep in himself, could unbury them with you.
He sometimes talked to you about his parents, how they were always arguing and yelling at each other. In a way, he felt like it was his fault. Even if he didnât show it, he was very sensitive and took everything to heart.
And with every deep talk with him, you would stay by his side, listening to him. He was always an observer, listener and not a talker so you would make him feel free to talk with you whenever about whatever.
And when his parents split up, your moms werenât as close, not meeting up for their weekly coffee, only catching up once in a while. But you and Si-eun stayed close, the closest you have been.
He always cared for you, just as much as you did for him. You showed it more, but you could see right through him. When you were having a bad day, stressing over school he would always try to cheer you up somehow, or at least be by your side.
Even through texts he could sense something is wrong. You didnât want to interfere with his studies because you knew how important it was for him. But at moments he didnât even care. He even skipped cram school sometimes for you, which surprised even you.
You unraveled feelings from so deep in him that without you, he knew he wouldnât have even know to feel them. You were the first one to confess, even though you were scared. Maybe you caught the signs wrong, maybe he felt like you were just a shoulder to lean on, and a person to laugh with, nothing more.
But you were so wrong. That day he asked you to be his girlfriend.
ËËË â
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You couldnât be happier, you didnât know what would you do without him. Your parents were also happy, mostly because he helped you with school work, but also because they saw how much you cared for each other.
When you met his friends for the first time, they almost thought Si-eun was joking about having a girlfriend, it didnât seem like him at all.
But with his new friends, he started getting into fights. You were worried for him. When he didnât want to go home, dark and almost unwelcoming, he came to your house. Bruises were on his face, cuts on his lips.
You would take care of him. âSi-eun what happened now? Are you okayâ you said, stepping aside to let him in. âI got into a fight againâ he quietly said, looking down. âCome hereâ you hugged him hard.
You never scolded him for getting into fights, people were cruel and were asking for it these days. You understood where he was coming from.
You were now both on your bed, changed as he laid on it, head on your lap. You carefully cleaned his wounds, putting a bandaid on. âYou know, I think I should study to become a nurse at this pointâ you said, laughing.
He also cracked a smile, he knew a medical degree would suit you, you cared for people a lot. You stood up, trash from the bandaids in your hand. âIâll be right back, Iâm going to take a showerâ you announced, turning away.
He laid in your quiet room, his outside clothes neatly folded on your desk, your almost finished homework spread out beside it. He sat on your table, look down at it. He couldnât help but smile, your homework was done perfectly, just how he explained it to you a couple days ago.
He felt your phone ring, who could be calling you at this hour? He took it in his hand as an unsaved number was on the screen. His guts told him to answer it, so he did.
âY/n?â He stayed silent. âItâs Young-bin, tell your little boyfriend to not throw a fit like that again, you should teach him better, huh? You donât want him hurt, do you?â The boy on the other line continued, Si-eunâs hand gripping the phone from anger. âTeach him better, youâre going to pay for what he and his friends didâ
He listened, anger filling him. âLeave her aloneâ he said, hanging up. He blocked the number, deleting the call from the call history and putting the phone where it was.
At this point Yeong-bin knew Si-eunâs weak spots. Si-eun couldnât shake off the fact that you were the next target.
You opened the door, him looking up at you. âYou tired?â you asked him as he nodded, hands on his lap. You sat on your bed, pulling the blanket over you, of course making space for him.
He got in next to you, hugging you close. You smiled to yourself, whispering âgoodnightâ closing your eyes. He didnât say anything back, just hugging you tighter. He was sleepy at all now, all he could think was punching Young-bin so hard he wouldnât even think of you again.
ËËË â
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The next day came, you were both in bed. The birds were starting to chirp, sun rays heating up your faces. Since it was sunday, you convinced him to spend the day with you.
You both talked, he helped you finish the homework that you didnât get to yesterday. He felt joyful when he was with you, not showing it that much but you noticed.
He heard his phone buzz and he got nervous, what if it was Yeong-bin again? He looked at the message, relieved seeing Su-hoâs name come up. âDo you want to go get lunch with Su-ho and Beom-seok?â he asked, looking up at you as you were playing on your phone.
âYeah, sure we can go. But I have to get ready firstâ you said, getting up. You picked an outfit, getting an opinion from him. He kept some clothes at your house for days like these, your scent on them.
At the diner, Si-eun still couldnât stop thinking about that phone call. He held you close, from time to time looking around as paranoia filled him.
ËËË â
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Monday came, he got up early. He put on his school uniform, leaving his house quickly. He knew the only way to get Yeong-bin alone was when he got out his house in the morning, since he transferred schools.
His feet brought him to Yeong-bins neighbourhood, he knew where he lived since he over heard him one time with his friends.
Si-eun stood behind a corner, waiting. When the guy came into view, rage filled him again. Si-eun took him by the collar, clutching it. Yeong-bin was a coward, eyes filling with fear.
âLeave her aloneâ he repeated his sentence from two days ago. Yeong-bin pushed him, trying to act all tuff. âYeah? Or what?â he provoked.
He didnât answer, just grabbed his now wrinkled collar again, smashing his face into the brick wall. âOr thisâ he said through gritted teeth as the guy tried to fight back but was unsuccessful. Si-eun kept hitting his face into the wall, blood splattering onto Yeong-bins uniform.
He finally let go, the guy dropping to his knees. Si-eun looked down, staring. He turned around as he heard him yell. âYou asshole, you will regret this.â
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Beom-seok turned his back to Si-eun and Su-ho. Si-eun was transferring schools and moving in with his mom. Su-ho was in a coma.
Your heart broke at the sight of Si-eun, he didnât want to leave Su-hoâs hospital room. He cried next to you, clutching your shirt.
But apart of Si-un was relieved that you didnât get involved into this. Beom-seok left you alone. âY/n, this is my fault.â he said, sitting up right, the room quiet. âIf I got there in time, he wouldâve been fineâ he looked down.
âIf what I shouldâve been the one in a comaâ his hands balled in fists. You put your hand on his shoulder as he looked into your eyes.
âSi-eun none of this was your fault, you should know itâ âNeither of you deserved what happenedâ you glanced at Su-ho, feeling bad for both of them. âHe will be okayâ you reassured him, hand rubbing circles on his back.
ËËË â
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You and Si-eun spent the summer together, every day. He wasnât the same as he used to be. At first he didnât even go out of his room, but you always stayed. You talked to him, brought him something to eat.
You both visited Su-ho every other day later on. Si-eun changed, but he tried to not push you away, he knew it would only make him feel worse.
Slowly he got a little better, but not quite. After all of this, he realised he should value you even more. He was moving to his momâs house, and you helped him pack.
You and your mom had helped him move, Si-eun carrying the last box. âHi Y/m/n!â âHow have you been? Itâs been agesâ Si-eunâs mom hugged your mom as you and Si-eun went into his new room.
You helped him unpack everything, making it feel like home. Or at least you tried to. You sat on the bed, exhausted. Si-un sat next to you, looking around.
âHey, itâs not so bad is it?â you look over to him. âI guess so..â he quietly said as he felt a kiss on his cheek. âAnd we wonât be that far awayâ you scanned his face, dark circles under his eyes.
You closed your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder. âLetâs take a napâ you murmured, yawning. You laid on the small bed, barely fitting both of you. He let himself close his eyes, feeling comforted and secure with you hugging him, he really needed this.
With closed eyes Si-eun softly spoke âIâm worriedâ
ËËË â
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The school year started, and you still saw Si-eun every weekend, whether it was him coming over to you or you to him. The dark circles got worse, your heart ached. He did tell you he slept better when you were with him, so you always tried to be there as much as you could.
He still talked about Su-ho and you couldnât lie to yourself, you missed him too. His jokes were funny and he always made you blush with his comments about you and Si-eun, he was a good friend to both you and him.
He got into a little trouble here and there but most importantly - he found friends. Little by little you could see the tiniest spark come back in him. You felt happy for him.
Until Na Beak-jin and his union started bothering him and his friends, Hu-min, Hyun-tak and Jun-tae. His fear grew. The fear of them coming to get you.
Every buzz of your phone caught his attention, what if the union texted you? When you were together outside paranoia was swirling in his head, looking around more than he should. He kept his phone close at all times, waiting for a message from you, what if you needed his help?
Unknowingly to him, one day his nightmare came true. It was tuesday, the sun was shining and it was beautiful day out. You said goodbye to your friends and headed home. You were walking on the asphalt as a guy with glasses stopped you.
âHey beautifulâ he said, hands in his pockets as he blocked your way. You stood there confused, looking up. âCan.. Can i help you..?â you asked unsurely. He came up close to your face, inspecting every detail. A sick smile spread onto his face. âAh I can see why Si-eun took a liking to youâ
You stood frozen, even more confused. His smile didnât look welcoming at all. âMove, youâre in my wayâ you said, clutching your backpack straps. âNo need to be so rude, Y/nâ he calmly said, watching your reaction. You didnât tell him your name.
âIâm Seong-jeâ he continued, putting a cigarette in his mouth. âI came here all this way to meet you, and this how you treat me?â he grabbed your hair roughly, bring your face up to his.
He took his phone out as he opened the camera app, putting his hand up, facing the camera so both of you were in frame. âSmile, for that boyfriend of yoursâ he said, snapping the picture. His hand was in your face, confusion, fury and fear printed on your face.
âThereâ he said, his hand leaving your presence as he took the cigarette. âAs I said I only came here to say helloâ âWe will see each other soonâ he smiled with that sick grin, turning around and walking away, who was he?
Si-eunâs heart sank at the photo he received. His eyes focused on you. He could see you were in your school uniform, picture taken not far from your house. Seong-je came to you.
He felt at fault, you were unsafe because of him. Na beak-jin sent him, Si-eun knew. If he didnât take further action, he knew something worse could happen to you, his friends.
Si-eun quickly pulled his phone, calling you. âY/n are you okay?â he asked once you picked up the phone. Your voice was shaky, quiet. âYes, but what about you?? Is everything okay over thereâ you asked.
âYes, do you want me to come over?â he raised his voice, he felt so guilty. âIf you can, yeahâ you smiled to yourself.
ËËË â
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The day came. The big fight to finally end the conflicts, to put the union to an end. With Su-hos intelligence he came up with a plan, calculated the probabilities of them winning.
Si-eun came to the fight just on his planned time, when Hu-him was already on the ground, barely breathing. Anger filled him, those deep eyes now dark, face emotionless. He took the brass knuckles out of his pocket, putting it on.
âYeon Si-eunâ Beak-jin said, face bruised up. Si-eunâs fear of you getting hurt, turned into anger. âIâm here to fight, not talkâ he contained himself, calm. Beak-jin was the first one to throw a punch, he dodged it.
Si-eun kicked him, grabbing his blazer with a strong grip. The taller one threw punches until one finally hit Si-eun. Face burning, he went to his leg, smashing it with the metal.
âYeon Si-eun!â Beak-jin screamed, kicking him. Na Beak-jin deserved to suffer. Si-eun stood up, hair messy and uniform now muddy. He punched Beak-jin, him holding up his nose.
He took Si-eun by his tie, showing no mercy. He punched and kicked him, screaming with anger. Si-eun was knocked to the ground, eyes blurry and moves sluggish.
No. He couldnât give up now, he had to stand up, for you. He got onto his feet, unsteady. His wet uniform stuck to his skin. He grabbed the otherâs hand, twisting it. His face scrunched in pain as he felt a punch knock him onto the ground.
Si-eun strangled his body with his legs, repeatedly punching his open wounds. Beak-jin couldnât even fight back anymore, eyes closed and barely any oxygen coming into his lungs.
Hu-min stood behind them, he didnât even need to intervene as they planned, this was it. They won.
Unknowingly, you had came to see him, he wasnât answering his phone and you had a gut wrenching feeling something was wrong. At first you texted Hyun-tak but when you were unsuccessful you tried contacting Jun-tae who luckily answered, texting you an address to go to.
Guys started cheering, though the union stayed silent. After a while they started leaving, Si-eun stopped. He stood alone, looking back.
Until he heard your voice. His head immediately turned to you, he felt relieved. You ran to him, as he opened his arms out for you. He has never hugged you so tight before, a smile spreading across his beaten up face, stinging.
He didnât need to worry anymore, at least for a while.
#fanfiction#whc1#weak hero class 1#weak hero x reader#whc2#yeon sieun#yeon sieun x reader#sieun x reader#weak hero class two#weak hero class x reader#weak hero kdrama
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jungwon being such a sucker for tatas đ
in my head jungwon is a tits guy soooo
MDNI
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
There isn't a single position in the world that your boyfriend can't somehow turn into an excuse to grope you.
Sitting on the couch with his head in your lap, arms wrapped around your waist, and hands up your shirt, cupping your tits like they're just... there for him. Like he owns them. Like they're not part of your body, but some security blanket he needs to function. He doesn't even look at you half the time. He just scrolls on his phone, scrolling through apps with his thumb while his fingers absentmindedly tweak your nipples under the cotton of your sleep shirt.
He does it with the same casualness as cracking his knuckles. Gentle, patient rolls between his fingers, tugging slightly every few minutes just to keep you on edge. He's not even hardâit's not about getting off. It's just his comfort, his rhythm, his thing.
"Jungwon," you say, soft but exasperated. He looks up, blinking slowly like he's just now realized what he's doing. But his hands don't move.
"Hm?"
"You don't have to touch me every second of the day, you know."
He just pouts a little. "Yes I do."
You give him a look, but he ducks his head and latches onto your chest like you're the one being ridiculous.
"M'sorry, princess" he mumbles against your skin, kissing the swell of your breast lazily. "They just... help me think."
"You're not even thinking."
He shrugs and slides his other hand under your shirt. "Still helps."
When you're in bed, it's worse.
He physically can't fall asleep unless he's got your tits in his handsâpressed together in his grip like a makeshift pillow, or your back to his chest with one hand shoved under your shirt and the other curled around your waist. You've woken up more times than you can count to him sucking your tits in his sleep, lips latched around your nipple like it's instinctual.
Sometimes, you pretend to be asleep and just watch him. His eyebrows furrow in his sleep like he's focused, like this means something to him, maybe he's dreaming about it.
And it would almost be cute, almost, if he didn't turn feral every time he had a bad day. Because when that happens, he's not subtle about it.
He comes in grumbling under his breath, eyes half-lidded, tossing his keys down like the world has upset him. You open your mouth to ask him how his day was, but he's already on youâarms wrapped around your torso, pulling you down onto the couch and burying his face in your chest before you can even sit properly.
You giggle a little, stroking his hair. âBad day?â
"Mhm," he hums, already hiking your shirt up. "Don't wanna talk. Just wanna stay here."
"Let me guessâhere," you gesture to your chest, "means my boobs?" He groans like he's in pain. "Stop teasing me. You know I can't relax until I've got them in my mouth."
You roll your eyes, but you lift your shirt anyway. "You're so dramatic."
He doesn't respond. Just presses hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest like he's kissing away the stress of the day. Then his mouth wraps around your nipple and he sucks. Long, slow pullsâlike he's feeding, like he's addicted, and the whimper that escapes his throat makes your breath catch in yours.
His eyes flutter shut. His fingers even sink into your waist.
And he just stays like that. Breathing you in. Tongue lapping lazily over your sensitive skin while you cradle his head like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"You're like a baby," you murmur.
"No I'm not," he slurs, already half-asleep, lips still moving. "My dick is so hard right now, baby."
You blink and feel it pressed against your thigh, already knowing what's coming next. No matter what position he takes you in, spooning, missionary, bent over the counter, his hands will never leave your chest. Even when he's fucking into you like he can't get enough, he's still suckling like it keeps him grounded, like it keeps him alive.
"Jungwon," you sigh, breathless already.
He kisses your sternum, then looks up at you with the softest eyes you've ever seen.
"I love you," he whispers, "but I might love them more."
You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"
He nuzzles in deeper. "Don't make me choose."
You're half-asleep when the weight of him settles on top of you. You can still feel how raw your nipples are now.
At first, you think it's just one of his usual nighttime cuddles, warm chest pressed to yours, face buried somewhere between your neck and collarbone. But then his hands push under your shirt, his palms are hot, possessive and there's a low, almost breathless murmur against your skin.
"Lift it," Jungwon says, voice rough with sleep but steady with intention. "Wanna see."
You blink through the haze. "What time is it?"
He doesn't answer. Just sits back on your hips, straddling your stomach, completely naked, cock hard and already leaking against the soft dip between your breasts.
He watches you with dark eyes, expectant.
"Come on, baby," he murmurs. "Be good for me. Let me fuck them."
You shiver.
There's no whine in his voice this time. Just calm, quiet need. And you obey, half because you want to, half because it's always like this with him, he wants it, so you give.
You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. He watches the way your tits bounce free with something like reverence. One hand wraps around the base of his cock while the other glides up your thigh, over your stomach, and down between your legs, slipping effortlessly into your panties.
His fingers are already inside you before you can reactâslow, deep pumps, curling just right.
"Good girl," he praises softly, using his other hand to line himself up between your breasts. "Keep holding them like that."
You do. You always do.
He thrusts forward, letting the head of his cock glide slick between the softness of your tits. Your body trembles as he fingers you deeper, his wrist moving with an ease that makes you clench around him.
"Can feel how wet you are," he moans, watching your face like he's memorizing every twitch. "You like letting me do this, huh? Like being used like this."
You nod, eyes fluttering, breath hitching as his fingers find that perfect spot inside you.
"Use your hands," he instructs gently, hips picking up a rhythm between your breasts. "Press them together for meâjust like that."
His cock slides through the warm valley you've made, slick and swollen, dragging along your skin while his fingers fuck into you in slow, purposeful motions. He doesn't rush. Doesn't even moan. Just breathes heavier, leans forward slightly, lets his thumb circle your clit like he knows exactly what you need.
"You're perfect," he says, not even breathless. Just focused. Worshipful. "Always give me what I want."
You let out a soft whimper as your thighs tense, your fingers struggling to keep your tits squeezed together while pleasure curls low in your stomach. His cock is glistening now, smeared with precum and your own slick from where his fingers have been wrecking you.
He shifts slightlyâgrinding harder between your tits, his hand between your legs fucking you faster now, like he's trying to get you off at the same time.
"Let go for me," he says, more command than request. "Come on. Show me how much you like this."
You doâfall apart around his fingers with a sharp cry, thighs trembling beneath him. âJunâOh my God!â He watches you ride it out, still stroking himself between your tits, eyes fixed on your flushed, dazed face.
And when he finally cumsâspilling across your chest in thick, hot ropesâit's with a low, guttural groan and his hand gripping your hip like he's anchoring himself.
âAh! Shit shit shit! Oh fuck!â âI feel like Iâm going insane.â He says continuing to rut up, overstimulating himself before finally calming down.
He doesn't move for a long minute. Just breathes, inhales and exhales where heâs situated on top of you.
Then leans forward, dragging his fingers slowly out of you and slipping them into his mouth, licking them clean without breaking eye contact.
"Didn't even need to fuck you," he mutters, kissing the space between your tits. "Just this. Just you."
You're still trying to catch your breath when he lays back down on top of you, smearing his release between your bodies like he couldn't care less. And then, just like always, his face buries into your chest again.
Safe.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
⢠a/n: these reqs are getting fun đ¤¤
#enha hard thoughts#enha imagines#enha hard hours#enha smut#enha x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#jungwon hard thoughts#jungwon hard hours#jungwon smut#jungwon imagines#hard thought reqs
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Was just revisiting your blog for some quality Leona content but I was wondering in you had some more Leona bf HCs to feed us? Tysm for all the hard work you do fr.đđđ
Hi! I assume youâre talking about this post? Iâm really flattered you enjoy my stuff. Thank you so much!! Iâll echo what I said in my other post that I think shipping and yumeing with a comfort character is very personal and that little headcanons and interpretations can vary from person to person. At the end of the day, itâs about what YOU wanna see and reflect into your romance! I think taking the time to add your own lil HCs and lore is the fun part!
â¨MORE⨠Leona Boyfriend Headcanons
Bedtime rituals are important: Leona mentions enjoying baths a few times, so I think that this quiet time with his partner would be his favorite, and Leona is even more motivated to do nightly self-care rituals. And when his partner doesn't stay the night, sometimes he "forgets" and does wear his braids multiple days. (Leona just mentions that you should come over and fix his braids if you don't like how he does it when you're not around.)
Unfortunately, he enjoys banter, teasing, and playfighting. Anyway, he can get a little rise out of you. NGL, heâs a super annoying bf that makes you wanna hit him sometimes, but in a lighthearted way. Itâs never mean, only annoying. You'll become wise to his "tells" anyway, and realize heâs not serious (heâs very hard for others to read BTW) BUT you KNOW when heâs just pulling your leg.
Eating meals together is another thing he always tries to do, and works his schedule around this ritual. He likes the idea that you are getting enough to eat, and I do think sharing a meal is one of his love languages. Seeing you nourished and while indulging in delicious food (something he also enjoys) makes him feel good.
He doesnât tolerate disrespect of you in ANY form, teasing is one thing, but he will never speak badly of you or let anyone else. AND HEâD NEVER IGNORE YOU OR ACT LIKE HEâS SIMPLY PUTTING UP WITH YOU. (â¨No aloof BF here!!â¨) In fact, he may get the habit of texting you TOO much. Heâs a handful, and you are his emotional springboard in a way. He doesn't have many close bonds with others, so when he's away from you for too long, he gets restless and will start texting you what he's doing and why it is so dull without you. (Heâd never pull you away from friends or anything because he's pretty self-aware of how needy he can be. We love a man with emotional intelligence.)
Heâs not a TOTAL pushover, especially when âCoach Leonaâ comes out. He's not afraid to tell you when he thinks youâre wrong. A tough love session or two where he may just tell you you're too nosy and should be focused on yourself, or let you know when he thinks you may be going about something wrong. He DOES place you on a pedestal in his mind, and if heâs a little tough on you, it's just bc he wants you to be successful. He believes partners should be a TEAM and push each other when needed. (Youâll certainly love to boss him around!!)
Once together, he will NEVER request that you clean up after him or run errands for him. (Unless you really want to ig.) You're NOT one of his underlings or expected to be subservient to him in any way, you are his partner and therefore equal.
 All of Savanaclawâs attitude will shift about you, and he will request that they should respect you. And hey, if you are tough enough to get with their âbossâ then ofc they would respect you anyway without him even saying.
Queen/King/Prince/Princess (whatever you prefer) Treatment. He wants to spoil you but respects your independence. Heâs studied you well enough by now to know when to hold back and let you take control. Itâs cuteâŚand VERY attractive to see you lead. In fact, he wants to see you at your best, commanding situations and building your skills.
â¨BRO HAS A LICENSE.⨠And (I think) a secret car. He keeps it just off the NRC campus. He used to go for long drives alone along Sage's Islandâs coast, but now he has company~ Heâll drive you anywhere you wanna go. These drives with you keep him sane. And heâll take you shopping and dinner dates, most likely just mean-mugging the whole time or falling asleep on the bench by the dressing rooms. BUT HEâLL DO IT FOR YOU. (Yes, dearâŚ)
His peace is your alone time together, without the noise of the outside world or others. Just curled up in his arms playing mobile chess or watching one of those boring history documentaries I know he's into. (Relationships are about compromise, okay??) Heâll let you choose what you watch, too. He's a professional bedrotter, so on those days where relaxation is needed, he's right beside you, asking you what kind of food you want him to order for you. If you wanna yap to him about the terrible book you just read, hey heâs fine with that too!
He KNOWS he is not the mostâŚwell, exciting partner, and that self-consciousness shows through sometimes. Heâll do his best to keep you happy, but he probably needs reassurance that heâs not boring you to death with his 15-minute chess lectures or lethargic lifestyle. Heâs an old man at heart.
IMO Leona got his first idea of love from romance novels!! After being disillusioned, he ofc put all that ânonsenseâ to bed as a kid. But I like to think there is still a part of him who is a hopeless romantic softie. He's secretly dreamed of having a âgreat loveâ in his life and a strong partner just like his brother. Someone not like all the others, and who will always be there by his side. So don't be surprised when he pulls out a move or line that youâd NEVER expect him to say. (Maybe a dry delivery, but heâd say it!!)
Not always, but sometimes, Leona can beâŚstrangely sweet, but HE MEANS IT. I do think heâs a bit socially stunted in some areas. As inâŚhe doesn't always know what to say in intimate situations, so stealing a few lines from this âstupid bookâ he read as a kid is NOT above him. Thatâs what a prince would say, right? In fact, in trying to be so PAINFULLY logical all the time, he might apply âromanceâ he learned from books in real life to a devastatingly cheesy, old-fashioned, and endearing degree. (Heâd never tell tho.)
IâLL SAY IT, Leonaâs version of âlovey dovey talkâ is talking in the third person. âYou know your lion loves ya right?â âYour lionâs been lonely without ya.â âYour lion misses his_â (Insert whatever cheesy nickname heâs chosen for you). Notice how he conveniently puts himself as â¨possessed⨠by you. Because that's all he wants!! It's cemented in his head. Before heâs sure you feel the same, heâll make sure you know that he is, in fact, YOUR lion. No arguments. You have to reap what youâve sown.
In public, these âYour Lionâ quips are whispered under his breath, maybe even in your ear. But, in private, heâs fine with rolling over for you like an overgrown house cat, and saying these things loud and proud. Heâs looking at you with such a soft expression, you wonder if this is the same intimidating leader of the Savanaclaw dorm you came to know at the beginning of the year.
Heâs completely love sick for you. He hates this, but also â¨REVELS⨠IN IT. And what I mean by this is, I think âbeing in loveâ would be a bittersweet experience for Leona. He feels very deeply too DEEPLY. He's always been a sensitive guy, and eventually he will settle into a comfortable loveâŚbut after SO MANY YEARS of being alone, not just romantically, but without many close bonds OF ANY KIND, the feeling of love would make him feel sortaâŚsick at first. But, being the grumpy masochist we knowâŚI think Leona would give in to this torture, become addicted to you, especially after you promise that youâre here to stay.
At night, he holds you a little too tight sometimes, but thatâs because...he canât believe youâre really here with him, and the thought of going back to how his life was before you were in it is more painful than anything.
#twst#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yuu#twisted wonderland#leona x reader#leona x yuu#leona twisted wonderland#ask#lion talkđŚ#anon
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Husband!Jay x pregnant!wife!reader
Fluff
Warnings: Pregnancy, kisses, teasing, jealous Jay, misunderstanding



You and Jay have been married for 1 year, and you finally, after many tries, got pregnant. Once you found out, Jay cried out of happiness, and you couldnât help but fall in love with him all over again.
Your baby bump was starting to be really obvious, but you never really saw it unless you took your oversized hoodies off. Well, not exactly yours...maybe Jay's...but you were his other half, which meant that they belonged to you as well. You always used that as an excuse as to why Jay's hoodies were missing, but he never actually complained. Just teased you about how big it was on you or how you were a thief.
Jay was at work, and you were just chilling at home all day. You were getting bored and decided to have a conversation with your baby until Jay would be back.
"Hello, little one! Hope you're comfortable in there!" You said while rubbing your bump.
"You might not actually understand what I'm saying, but I'm trying to bond with you, okay?" A chuckle left your lips.
Jay came home early today, but you hadn't noticed yet. As he was walking in, he stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice. Or better your words.
"You know I love you a lot, right? Sometimes, I fear that I love you more than Jay! It's so hard to decide between you too"
He clenched his jaw and fisted up his hands on his side. He heard you giggle. That was it. How could you do this to him? Wasn't he enough? You were literally carrying his child, and you're having someone over?...telling him you love him?...and that you can't choose between him and that someone?...
He quickly rushed into the living room where you sat and started to argue with the dude that was supposedly taking your love.
"Okay, listen here you-" his words were cut off. You were sat on the couch, eyes wide, looking in his direction. He looked around to find the guy, but then he noticed that you had his hoodie lifted up and your hands on your bump. His eyes widened, and you let out a chuckle.
"Love! This isn't what you think! I can explain!" You continued to giggle and tease him about his reaction. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled at the sight in front of him. He rarely saw your bump for the same reason as you. He slowly walked to your side and sat down next to you. He knew that you would never let his 'jealousy' slide that easily, but at that moment, he didn't care.
He gently placed one of his hands on your bump and smiled even softer now. He looked up at you, but you were already staring at him with a sweet smile on your face. He placed a kiss on your bump and then to your lips.
"Oh my god! Did you just kiss my lover?!" You continued the teasing, and he threw his head back, smiling.
"Hey~ I was scared, okay?"
"Well, you were right to be scared!" His eyes widened again, and you laughed
"You're never gonna let this slide ar you?" He said while side eyeing you
"Nope!" You kissed him, slowly showing him all the love in the world. He kissed back and got lost in you.
Once you pulled away, you said, "Oh and...you are really jelly"
"I'm really what?" He looked at you confused
"Jelly~" you said while getting up and heading to the kitchen
"What's that supposed to mean?!" He quickly stood up and followed you closely, trying to get an answer while you just laughed at his cuteness.
#enha#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen#enhypen jay#jay x reader#park jay#park jeongseong
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valid question, thank you for asking!
From what I've seen, it's consensus that Neanderthals ate a diet that was high enough percent in meat to change their physiology, such that they were about 50-100x stronger than a h. s. sapien at the same time. I'm drawing broad new-ish(?) conclusions from that consensus view.
All I'm positing is this likely also had an effect on their psychology.
I had an anon in my asks that got lost saying this study proves they weren't carnivores because they sometimes only ate rabbits. I'm like ... just failing to see how it's controversial to suggest the Neanderthals' diet may have (likely) had psychological impacts in addition to the physiological changes we already note in the above study and many others like it. I'm seeing it as wide consensus they had a high-meat diet relative to h. s. sapiens.
I invite any researcher to study the human timeline and note we had a bottleneck in population 900k years ago down to roughly 1,250 individuals, we bounced back though and later split from the lineage that became Neanderthals/Denisovans about 600-800k ya, the first constructed buildings have been discovered in Africa c 400k ya, h. s. sapiens emerges 250-200k ya, from Africa arrives in America 120k ya, Australia 65k ya, and Europe 40k ya- why did it take h. s. sapiens so long to make it to one of the nearest continents to Africa, Europe?...which, during ice ages, may have even seen a dry Mediterranean sea, easily traversible? ... seems suspicious that these carniverous apex predators densely populating Europe for 300k years may have had something to do with h. s. sapiens' difficulty in gaining a foothold in Europe, while by contrast it's looking like Asia was much less densely populated by Denisovans.
Anyway it's a suspicion! I'm curious to learn more and maintain an open mind but I think it's funny to watch folks look at Neanderthals, an animal that literally had an enlarged liver to handle all the extra meat in its diet, these animals ate so much meat in the short span they diverged from us modern humans that they became 50-100x stronger than us on average, and could chomp through our literal bones, people are saying Neanderthals were these romantic cuddly guys. Seems unlikely to me. Modern humanity wasn't the strongest so we filled a niche called being the smartest.
We see articles like this that can only conjecture humans and neanderthals peacefully cohabitated for maybe a few thousand years while in context, Neanderthals doninated Europe for over 300,000 years. ďżźIf there's any agenda that I am sensing here, it's an agenda to paint the Neanderthals as a cuddly lil teddy bear, who we co- lived with in villages the entire time that we shared a history, when, in reality, it was just less than 1% of the evidence towards that type of hypothesis with in my view closer to 99% of the evidence being that Neanderthals murdered and raped humans out of localized existence for roughly 99% of our shared history, and of course this is history that existed before language and law and morality and conception of murder or rape, so these are literally wild beings who I don't judge, I'm just trying to accurately ďżźdescribe what happened. I'm very curious to continue genuine discussion and I'm not here to escalate any mockery, but I'm here to learn and stay respectful. Cheers!
Again above, this really is only one percent of our shared history to claim a few thousand years of coexistence... when the Neanderthals have been in Europe closer to 300,000 years, h.s. sapiens only existing for roughly 200k years, most of which time we couldn't expand into Europe, seems like there was a hard barrier against the expansion of h. s. sapiens into Europe called Neanderthals...
pro-tip: don't ever use the sentence "thousands of years" in your worldbuilding unless you really know what a thousand years is like
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⌠maybe bob with a reader who also has mental illness? And has low self esteem also. :3âŚ. not super fluffy but it can become fluffo
'why do you like me?' you asked Bob after having not been in the best mindset for the past couple of days, it had hit you out of nowhere, but it was still enough to have you sitting within your room with the curtains drawn and burrowed in your own multitude of blankets as you let your own void consume you.
Bob was suprised to hear you say such a thing, he was always the one to ask you why you liked him, so seeing you look at him with such hopelessness and saddness only made his heart ache as he didn't hesitate to take a seat next to you and grabbing ahold of your hand. He didn't like seeing you like this but knew -that just like him- you had your down days as well as your best ones and he was going to be the grounding force you needed however he could, whether it be just sitting here and holding your hand as the day passes you by or otherwise then he'll do it a thousand times over just for you.
'How could i not?' Bob begins softly, 'you are the kindest person i've ever met and the most genuine soul that never felt the need change for anybody and remain to your truest self, the one person who always managed to keep their head held high when the situation seemed bleak.' He kisses the side of your head and allowing you to rest you head against his shoulder, allowing him to be your light within this dark moment of yours, much like you have been for him in his. 'The strongest person that never once gave up when the going gets tough, yet sometimes forget that you're human and not every day is going to be a good one.' he finishes as you look at him through your eyelashes.
'what if i can't get out of this...emptiness? what if i just accept that most battles are too hard to win and think i'm deserving of being forgotten and or left behind like i'm not worth the trouble of comforting?' You were just saying the things that had been within your mind for a longwhile now, things that you knew you'd never you would never get an acceptable awnser for even if it was a believible one, you'll still always have that lingering doubt within the back of your mind that they were just saying it for the sake of saying something that sounded plausable...for a while until you get like this again.
So you wondered how long it would take until Bob grew bored of reassuring you, of getting ride of the sour thoughts that plauge your mind all too frequently nowadays, of having to hold your hand when the darkness clouded any sembelence of light from passing through. However what you weren't willing to see in your current state of mind was that Bob would in fact gladly reassure you as many times as you needed, chase away the sour thoughts time and time again until you were ready to come out of your room, hold your hand and guide you through the darkness until he could effortlessly do so with his eyes closed.
He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone with your thoughts, especially not when they were making you second guess eveything about yourself, not when you were within a room devoid of leeting any light in, allowing the worst of your thoughts to be let in without warning and stay to fester; up until all you could think about was the supposed worst traits you possesed and how you didn't think you were worth any ounce of attention. So Bob was more then willing to be stubborn and stern with you, even if it meant getting through your head that you were more then worth every ounce of attention and support given, that you were worth going back for ten times out of ten.
'i won't let you.' Bob replied frowning. 'i won't let you becuase i'll stay here with you as long as it takes, as long as you need until you do feel wanted and seen becuase you didn't leave me with my mind when i wanted you to, you stayed with me until the early morning looking tired as hell but happy that i finally stepped out of the shadows.' He tucks you futher into his side, his body guarding you from the dark of your own room as though he was the only one who could keep you safe from it all, keep you protected from the worst yet to come and within his arms you felt the safest you've ever had in a long time. 'So why would i ever leave you to face your battle alone?' Bob asks.
You shrugged, geuninly at a loss on how to awnser him, but far too content within his arms to move away from the warmth he emitted. 'i'm not worth all of this Bob, i'm not worth your efforts but yet you still stay here as though there is nowhere esle you wanted to be-'
'There is nowhere i want to be other then right here, with you. i won't let you think any diffrently about yourself, out of anyone in the Watchtower i can't think of anyone but you to spend my days with, no matter if we're sat like this or doing the dishes together.' Bob cuts you off, looking at you with those sofe blue eyes that you swore could see into your soul and thensome. 'As long as i'm with you my day could never be wasted at all, i want to be with you on your worst days as well as your best days, all you've got to do is let me in instead of shutting me out.' He finishes earnestly, holding you closer to him as you burrow your face into his neck, your hands were gripping the back of his sweater as though you were scared to let go of Bob in fear that he'd dissapear.
Bob noticed how tightly you were gripping onto him and began rubbing your back with his large hands in soothing motion. 'i'm here. i'm not going anywhere, not without you, never without you okay?' he says and hears you hum in agreement as you made yourself comfortable against him, even offering your blanket to cover him somewhat before finding yourself inable to fight off the need for sleep, and Bob rubbing your back didn't make matters better either as you were esscencially lulled into drifting off; the scent of vanilla or perhaps chamomile and new books invading your senses as you murmurered agaisnst his skin. 'Thank you for not giving up on me.'
'never.' Bob whipsered back, leaning back against the wall for some brief shut eye, all the while making sure you stayed close to him as his back caresses soon slowed and came to a still, finding their resting place at your waist that he'd occasionally grip as though trying to tell you he was there in some sort of morse code that he'd hope would reach you in your dreams where he would be too; only for him to fall asleep completely soon after.
bonus;
Later that day Yelena, Ava, John and Alexei were walking through the hallway, wondering where you and Bob were, only to come across your slightly ajar door where Yelena peaked inside and smiling upon seeing you and Bob cuddled up tightly together asleep on the floor. 'i found our little lovebirds.' She says to the rest of the group as they too poked their heads inside soon afterwards, similar smiles plastering across their faces.
'That doesn't look pratical.' Ava said as she notes your sleeping possitons, knowing that both of you will wake up complaining about your aching necks, but she couldn't help but find you both adorable in this situation.
'At least we don't need to send a search party for them both now.' John says, wincing when Alexei claps him on the shoulder, wiping away a tear that had fallen from his eyes.
'Bob is protecting his love even in his sleep, how valient of him.' He adds as Yelena and the group decided to make boht of your situations a little more comfortable for you both. Yelena and Ava would put pillows behind your's and Bob's head, Alexei would shift you both slightly into more suitable positions for you both, and finally John would adjust the blankets so they would cover you both properly with the intent on keeping you and Bob warm and safe.
The group, once satisfied with their work, left you both be and shut the door behind them as they did in order to give you both the rest and privacy you both nedded.
#sentry x reader#sentry x you#sentry x y/n#sentry imagine#sentry imagines#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds x you#bob reynolds x y/n#bob reynolds imagine#bob reynolds imagines#robert reynolds x reader#robert reynolds x you#robert reynolds imagine#robert reynolds imagines#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#thunderbolts x reader#thunderbolts x you#thunderbolts x y/n#thunderbolts imagine#thunderbolts imagines#mcu imagine#mcu imagines#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu x y/n#marvel imagines#marvel imagine#marvel x you#marvel x reader
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Thank you... for playing with me.
Batfam x F!Reader Squid Game AU
m.list|prev|fin.
"Hyeya, how are you trying to leave me? You mercilessly say goodbye with those smiling eyes. Killing me and taking my breath away. The happiness that melody once gave us is still so bright. Please don't leave me, don't leave me" 'Y Si Fuera Ella' by Jonghyun (SHINee).
Divider Creds: @cafekitsune and @k1ssyoursister

It was too late, she was nothing but anther body covered in blood. All those false promises of getting her out of there were for nothing.
Barbara stopped typing for a moment. Was it even worth it now? The silence from the intercom was deafening.
Until a static cut it.
âHow close are we from finding the destination?â
âA minuteâ
She said out loud, It's a little sad now. She was so close yet so far if [name] had held out for a few more minutes.
âThen weâll have to get a move on.â

âThis is the game place, it's giving me the creeps.â Stephanie shuttered, they finally managed to find the damn place and two were left uninformed that someone who resided among them once was dead.
âYou can say that again, I think what sucks even more than that though is the amount of people we lost, damn Court of the OwlsâŚâ Cassandra followed, then finally finished their section of searching for people and headed back to the main room.
âFind anything?â Bruce asked. The others seemed tense, he did, too, but he always did. That's if you didn't know him very well. His kids, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow.
âNo⌠I heard [name] was here. I hope she's recovering well. Can we visit her?â
"About that, there's no way to say this, [name]'s dead."

Sometimes it was hard for Jason to sleep with all his trauma keeping him up at night.
Sometimes heâd walk to the manor kitchen if that night he decided to stay the night, maybe grab a glass of water, and hope that would calm his nerves.
Sometimes he'd see [name] there, she always looked in a daze and wouldnât notice him.
Sometimes he'd want to talk to her.
But heâd never go for it, as he was tired, and she was a daughter of the woman who took advantage of Bruce.
Today, he decided to go for it, just his luck, she was right there.
He approached and tapped her on her shoulder, and before she could turn around-
His alarm went off.
Itâs been a month since he has seen her alive. To be fair, though, he could visit her every day if he wanted to; her gravestone wonât be moving anytime soon, and neither would she.
Jason sat up and rubbed his eyes, he looked around and nothing had changed. If anything everyday was normal, a quiet house as youâd imagine vigilantes donât make that much sound and itâs ingrained in them, making it the norm for their gothic mansion to be silent.
But just a few years ago would he wake up, not from his alarm but rather the sound of a girl running up and down and making something in the kitchen, and while it should have made him a little annoyed, he felt at peace at times, maybe this is what a normal life would be like, waking up to go to school rather than suiting up and making sure that Gotham was safe.
And so the first month without it, weird but whatever. A year, used to the silence now. Now, three years later. Why, he canât help but miss it.
As he finally made up his mind to get his day started he passed the family portrait, but she wasn't there, he never minded before, so today should be no differentâŚÂ at least it should be.
He couldnât be melodramatic, though; he couldnât just pass her room and reminisce about false memories as she was hidden away in that lousy guest room, out of sight, out of mind.
For once, he decided that heâd go to that hallway, to the room, and take a peek.
Stumbling on Dick he seemed to have just crashed at her room since no one was occupying it.

The room wasnât dirty or dusty, it just seemed empty. Alfred always made sure that every room was clean, even if itâs empty or unused.
Dick had always prided himself on being the most reliable sibling, he always tried to make sure to be on top of things, which sometimes led to overworking himself.
Sometimes, getting coffee from the kitchen would be his routine.
Sometimes heâd spot [name] also grabbing a cup of coffee, typing away on her old, broken laptop.
Sometimes he would want to offer to go and hang out to buy a new one, but⌠sheâd probably put up a front of being a broke, struggling girl.
Besides, heâs busy; after all, he came for only one purpose, and being sidetracked would not help.
Now, while heâs grabbing coffee, there would be no girl stressed over normal stuff, typing away on her crumbling laptop and so focused in.
Maybe, if he had just said something to her, maybe he wouldâve gotten over this misdirected hatred, that was never even there.
He still felt conflicted at this new development with [name] being dead and all, and once again overworked himself, out of pure curiosity, he went to her room and could only stare at how sad it looked, no decorations or traits that even implied someone lived there.
Collapsing onto her small bed he had let his tiredness take over holding onto the one thing she did leave behind, a stuffed llama, she had to sew it back together a couple of times after Damian would ruin it and eventually just left it.
Now itâs cotton stuffed insides emptied, and its once pink clean coat is stained as if left on the ground and stepped on.
It was the first and last thing her mother and Bruce had gotten her together, itâs the only connection she had to this family.
So now, blinking open his eyes, he picked up the llama that seemed to bore itâs beady eyes at him as he stared back only to leave soon after and catch a glimpse of Damian and Titus at the family couch, Titus sitting next to Damian let out a bark acknowledging Dick making Damian turn over to look at him.
Thatâs right, Dick always made excuses for Damian didnât he?
Heâs nothing more than a sad excuse for a big brother, huh [name]?

Damian had this problem of collecting animals like he was a Disney princess, that, and the fact that he felt proud that he had the Wayne flowing through him, making him the actual son of Bruce Wayne, and is the current Robin.
Sometimes heâd go past the kitchen.
Sometimes heâd see [name] making herself something to eat.
And from what he heard from the storyâs told by the others she was just like her mother, a gold digging girl.
That made him upset in some way that they shared the same blood, and while she got everything and still wanted more he was different in that spectrum, he had a hard childhood, and is still unable to reach that level of having a normal one.
In some moments, though, he would see this scene and wonder about what-ifs.
What if she couldâve just been content with her life and not been greedy?
What if they bonded and she showed him what a normal life would be like?
But those what-ifs never went into action.
Depending on how upset he was, heâd maybe take action on blowing off some steam, and last time he checked, he didnât get punished, is it that bad?
Sometimes, maybe Bruce would try to say something, but he knew that someone would come to his defense.
As he sat on the couch, it seemed Titus was starting to get hungry, and he knew Titus was not one to wait, and headed to the kitchen.
There he saw Tim staring off into [name]âs empty hallway, more like a guest hallway.

Tim has always prided himself on being at least what he thinks is the smartest. He knew his way through technology and was clever.
However, he could never understand [name].
For someone who was always ungrateful, why did she look so⌠pitiful?
It was in those moments that he would see her.
Sometimes heâd be tired from a long day and want to just slam himself onto his bed.
Sometimes, while heading to his room, heâd see [name].
Those memories never stuck with him, though, as they were more like fleeting moments that he now could only look back on.
Walking across the hallway, he saw Duke.

Duke⌠Well, he didnât know you, but to be fair, who did? He never spoke about you, nothing good, nothing bad.
The first time he did, it was to defend you on why you were here; he had talked to you once or twice before getting snatched by someone else, so, no, he didnât know you⌠But if you gave him a bit more time.
Maybe he couldâve.
There are many things he couldâve done in his life. Once he did speak to [name].
âWhy look back on something you canât change? Thatâs something many people tell you, but itâs hard, isnât it?â She tilted her head; she wasnât smiling, but she wasnât trying to be rude either.
He wasnât sure what led up to this moment on how they were able to talk but they did and that question stuck with him.
And now he canât help but wonder, could you also be referring to how they treated you in the manor?
Blaming you for your mother's actions?
He headed off to the garden, where you once had grown these flowers, and now Alfred took care of them, but some, unluckier than others, wilted.
Flowers are not needy things, they just require little attention to live and survive.
He stumbled onto Barbara, who held a wilted purple hyacinth.

Barbara, never in her million years, would take the time to stop and smell the flowers with the amount of responsibilities she has, on top of the ones she puts on herself.
But it was [name]âs garden she was in, and maybe it wouldnât hurt to take some time for herself.
Entering in this ethereal place that seemed out of place compared to the rest of the house it wasnât terrible, and somehow some were still alive.
The place was out of a fantasy novel, especially with conditions Gotham is in, flowers, plants, even a huge cherry blossom tree, and a bonsai tree were there in an arranged circular way with the center bring marble with a supplies there are right next to the podium that had sunlight shining directly on it.
Purple Hyacinths
Meaning: RegretÂ
Below that was the description on how that flower got its meaning from a Greek story but Barbara stopped reading the rest of it but mainly focused on the meaning.
Regret, itâs a terrible emotion.
It could be missing a single item from your bag and having to go back and get it, but for Barbara, she had too many regrets to just focus on one. Until [name]âs death, she had been the one tracking the location, so she thought maybe theyâd make it in time; she hadnât known that the last time she would see [name], it would be a corpse rather than alive.
Not like that had made any difference, as when she was still alive, she still treated her like she was 6 feet under already, so why had it mattered now? Was it guilt? Was it sadness?
Was it regret?
All she could take away was that her younger sister, whom she never gave an effort to care about, was now dead; she was dead with no one by her side to mourn her death, except after her death.
It wasnât fair, and it would never be.
She walked up to a book crate that was under the bonsai tree.
[Name]âs plant and journey entries, starring my plants!!!Â
This was the most recent book.
âToday I checked up on my new plant⌠Itâs a Hyacinth! Not just any, but a purple one. Iâm hoping this one grows really huge. Another addition to the never-ending collection. Even though Iâm graduating this year, it feels like just yesterday when I started this little green house of mine. Iâll be turning 18 this year, hopefully that doesnât change anything. Itâs still been years since anyone from this house has made proper conversation with me, hopefully that means theyâll also forget that I live here and let me mooch off them a wee bit more.
I know that sounds bad but with the amount of money Iâve been raking up from the part time job Iâve had since freshman year would probably last a good year at home, hopefully if I go to a college that provides dorms, or at least a cheap price for them.Â
I think thatâs enough ranting for now, my hand is starting to cramp with the amount of writing that Iâm doing.
Love,
{name}
It seemed that [name] either didnât feel the need to pack anything from her garden with her before getting kicked out, except a cactus.
Barbara remembered her leaving with that.
But everything else, including her journals, all her plants, was left, discarded.
She may have seen Alfred in here once or twice a month but even then heâs a busy man, the only servant of the Wayne house, surely itâs hard enough taking care of their needs on top of some plants.
Everybody has their unique handwriting, and Barbara couldnât help but admire hers.
She set the book down where it was originally, looking around again to see a withered flower.
âToday I checked up on my new plant⌠Itâs a Hyacinth! Not just any, but a purple one. Iâm hoping this one grows really huge. â
Thatâs right, this was new, wasnât it?
Now all she held up was a flower that should be thrown away, she admired it, it was more like a weed than a flower. Meaning it had withered long ago.
However, it contrasts with the blue flowers next to it.
Forget Me Nots
Meaning: Never be forgotten
Dusting off her clothes, be left [name]âs once sanctuary and headed off.
âYou wonât forget me, will you? Iâve always wanted to have a playdate with youâŚ
Barbara.â
Barbara hurriedly turned around and somehow a Forget Me Not was in front of her, the rest were all in the same place they usually were.
She picked it up and grazed a petal.
Before feeling a tear slide down her cheek, the rest did not follow.
âOf course not, how could I ever forget?â
Speaking of flowers, wasnât Cassandra buying some flowers right about now?

Cassandra had a knack at reading how people felt, it was quite easy as their body language gave it away.
Either she never cared enough to see [name]âs or the fact that she never gave off any sort of sign.
âMaâam?â
Cassandra looked up at the florist.
âAny specific flowers you are looking for?â
Now, back to reality, Cassandra took a deep breath and scanned over the flowers in the shop. She had no clue what to get you⌠Did you like daisies? Maybe sunflowers?Â
âDo you have any recommendations? I lost someone close to me, and I have no idea what to get her.â
âAnother one in these streets, ay?â The florist tried to make small talk, but it seemed Cassandra was still in a daze, so she left her alone and started wrapping a bouquet for her.
Cassandra was born to be made a weapon, a hard tear-jerker kind of story that she tries not to dwell on, and meeting Bruce Wayne had been one of the best things sheâd have to say that had happened in her life.
He wasnât her dad, but he was, and didnât mind that, and through him she had more family members that she would ever want, but it seems she enjoyed it.
â32.67, maâam.â She took out her wallet and gave the florist $50, grabbing the flowers, leaving the rest of the change.
Irises. Did you like Iris? You always were there, and then you werenât, you werenât watering your garden anymore, you werenât cooking something that sheâd once or twice take a few bites of without anyone knowing, and you werenât dancing to songs anymore.
She wondered if she had a normal life, would you do ballet with her?
Sometimes, she would take sneak peaks at you when youâd do ballet.
Her favorite was when you do âLa Esmeralda: Variationâ she loved that version the most even if it was super popular but you couldnât blame her, it wasnât just a form of dancing it was an art, it was graceful, and enjoyed each tap that sounded on the tambourine and the fluid motions that [name] seemed to express.
Sometimes she would worry when [name] collapsed before getting up once again. At times, sheâd want to stop you, but retreat before even approaching you.
A sound of the phone ringing snapped her out of daydreaming.
âHey, you coming soon?â Stephanie softly spoke into the phone. It seemed that she hadnât arrived at their destination not too long ago.

âYeah, just picked up the flowers.â Stephanie hung up after they said their byes and stared at the view in front of her. It was spring, and the new flowers that blossomed off the trees were detaching off allowing her to admire the petals that decorate [name]âs tomb.
When was the last time they spoke in a normal, positive light?
She kneeled and repositioned [name]sâ outdated photo frame, and stared at it for a good second before brushing some dirt off the stone.
âItâs been a few months hasnât it? I would have never imagined to see you like this, you were always such a hard worker. Cass is coming soon, so you wonât be too lonely anymore.â she heard footsteps approaching and saw Jason coming which had mildly surprised her.
âAlmost thought you were Cass for a second.â
âShe could only wish she were as cool as I.â
âHow is Bruce holding up?â
âIâm not sure.â

âYou know this isnât healthy.â
Bruce didnât direct his attention to the voice,
The voice that haunts him.
âIâm not real, and the more that I stick around, the more itâll negatively affect you. Just give it up. Iâm dead.â The ghostly figure got up and looked around the room.
âIt mustâve been nice, you know, to see me shot dead.â
âIt wasnât.â His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
âVery convincing, your voice, that tone, it definitely made me believe you.â The entity mocked.
âSo now what, youâre just going to keep hallucinating me talking to you? Câmon, youâre the Batman, losing one illegitimate kid wonât kill you, and besides, itâs not like you tried to be a good father in the first place, why try now when the corpse is already frozen.â
Thatâs right, isnât it, you were dead and he was breathing, alive, warm.
âShould I call you Bruce? You never liked being my father.â She circled his chair, fading in and out of the room.
âMaster Bruce, you should get some rest, itâs not good to overwork yourself, the case over⌠well, itâs over take a breather before another one.â Alfred approached, ushering him to his room.
As he settled into his bed, leaving him once again with himself and a voice and figure that resembled his lovely, dead daughter.Â
âIf youâre not real, then could you at least stay with me a little longer?â
âSure.â
[END]
Sorry if this wasn't the final part you wanted, but I'll be honest and say I didn't know how else to add another part. Astro will definitely have more lore and parts, because... well,l our MC is alive in that universe, so stay tuned for that.
I think I'll be doing a rewrite of SMM, which no one asked for, and then I'll try to start working on my WSMCBH. I have the plot for the next chapter yet every time I seem to try and write something my mind goes blank, anyway, YIPPIE school's almost out!!
Taglist time! â¤
Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek, and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.
@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @czarinera @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @ryuushou @lizzy-innet
I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged. I hope I didn't spell any words wrong and tag the wrong person.
Any mistakes, plot holes, corrections, and especially interactions mainly comments are appreciated!!!
Also realized @k1ssyoursister literally has DC divider so will be using those soon đđđ

#platonic batfam#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#batfam x neglected reader#batfam#neglected reader
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i wonât call you mine



âscared to fall? then iâm your guy, i wonât call you mine.â
SYNOPSIS: a midnight beach meet-up wasnât supposed to mean anythingâbut under moonlight and soft confessions, paige feels like more than a passing summer mistake.
WARNINGS: mild language, emotional vulnerability, romantic boundaries, alcohol mention â not consumed.
WORD COUNT: 3k RECOMMENDED SONG: duvet cover â ashley singh. info. masterlist. taglist. just for the summer.
you tell yourself it isnât a date.
youâve said it out loud, evenâtwice. once to your friend when she asked where you were going tonight, and again to yourself in the mirror, brushing a hand over your outfit like you werenât trying. like you didnât take twenty minutes picking it out. like you didnât check her instagram story before leaving, just to see if sheâd posted somethingâanythingâsince last night.
she hadnât.
but she did text you.
paige:
you busy tonight?
you:
depends. will i need a new shirt this time?
paige:
no promises.
paige:
meet me on the beach. midnight.
you hesitatedâonly for a secondâthen typed back,
send the pin.
and now youâre here.
barefoot in the sand, shoes in hand, breeze in your hair. the moon spills silver over the shoreline and the waves crash just loud enough to drown your thoughts. thereâs something sacred about a beach at nightâsomething that makes you quieter, more honest. and maybe thatâs why youâre nervous now, standing in the dark, heart racing with the wind.
you see her before she sees you.
paige, sitting near the waterline with her knees drawn up and a hoodie over her head. she looks relaxed in a way you hadnât expected. grounded. sheâs tracing shapes in the sand with one finger, like the oceanâs her soundtrack and sheâs just trying to keep time.
you walk toward her, slow. cautious.
she looks up, and when she sees you, her whole face changes.
like it was worth waiting for.
âyou came,â she says, standing up and brushing sand from her legs.
âyou sent a pin,â you shrug, trying to sound chill.
âtrue.â she smiles. âbut you didnât have to show up.â
you shrug again, stepping closer. âmaybe i was hoping youâd ruin another shirt.â
she laughs, soft and breathy. âi left my drink in the car. but i could run back and fix that.â
âmaybe later.â
you sit together on a large towel sheâs already laid out, a cooler beside it that you hadnât noticed before.
âi brought snacks,â she says, pulling it open. âand by snacks i mean mostly candy and one bottle of water.â
âbalanced.â
âiâm an athlete. i plan things.â
you steal a pack of sour gummies and kick your feet out in the sand.
âso,â she says, voice low. âtell me something about you.â
you glance over. âlike what?â
âi donât know. something people donât usually know. something real.â
you chew on a gummy, stare out at the ocean.
âi get tired of pretending i donât care,â you admit. âi act like iâm not looking for anything, but sometimes⌠i think i just say that because iâm scared to actually want it.â
sheâs quiet beside you. for a second, you think maybe youâve said too much.
then she says, âyeah. i get that.â
you turn your head. sheâs already looking at you.
âpeople expect so much from me all the time,â she murmurs. âso when iâm not being watched or coached or praised, i just wanna disappear. not belong to anyone.â
âbut?â
her lips twist slightly. âbut sometimes i wanna belong anyway.â
you donât kiss. not yet.
instead, you talk.
you tell her about the worst date you ever went on. she tells you about a fan who asked her to sign their forehead. you laugh too hard at the way she mimics them. she laughs at your terrible imitation of a florida accent. the moon keeps moving, the tide creeps closer, but neither of you shift.
itâs not a date. but it feels like one.
not serious. but also⌠not not.
âyouâre easy to talk to,â she says suddenly.
you smile. âyou say that like it surprises you.â
âit does.â
you toss a gummy at her. she catches it. grins.
âyouâre not what i expected,â she adds.
âyou keep saying that.â
âbecause it keeps being true.â
at some point, your shoulders touch. youâre not sure when it started, but now you feel the heat of her next to you. her hand is right there in the space between your legs. almost close enough to brush. almost.
you steal a glance.
sheâs looking at the sky now, her expression calm. but you can see the tension in her fingers. like sheâs thinking about it too.
you break the silence.
âwhat happens if we do like each other?â
she exhales. âwe donât.â
you turn toward her. âyou sure?â
âno,â she says. âbut if we pretend we donât, maybe it wonât hurt when we leave.â
you nod. slow. it makes sense. it also doesnât.
you both go quiet again.
you stay like that for a whileâshoulders barely touching, knees brushing, breaths syncing up like tides. the kind of closeness that doesnât demand anything. the kind that says i see you. stay here anyway.
finally, she stands.
âcome on,â she says, brushing sand off her legs again. âiâll walk you back to your car.â
you follow her up the beach, shoes still in hand.
when you reach the lot, she hesitates beside your door.
you turn toward her, not sure if this is where you say goodbye or pretend like none of it mattered.
but thenâ
âcan i see you again?â she asks, voice quiet.
you tilt your head. âi thought we werenât calling this anything.â
âweâre not.â she looks away, like that makes it easier. âbut i still wanna see you.â
you nod, slow. âme too.â
she leans inânot for a kiss, just close enough for her hand to brush your arm. âgoodnight, not-a-date.â
you smirk. âgoodnight, drink assassin.â
she walks away before you can say anything else, her hoodie pulled low and her hands in her pockets like sheâs not the kind of person who just knocked the air out of your chest with a single look.
you get in your car.
sit in silence for a minute.
then, your phone buzzes.
paige:
i still donât want anything serious.
you stare at it for a second.
then you type back.
you:
i know.
i still want to see you too.
Š bueckersworld
đ§đ¨đđđŹ. âËęŠď˝Ą chapter 2 of just for the summer. how are we feeling??? there might be smut next chapter guys đđ
đ¤đđĄđŠ đŠđ˘đđ đđđ đđđ đ đđ , đđđđđđđ
taglist: @elswhore @private-but-not-a-secret @paigebaby5 @raimund00 @bravemode @d1paigebueckersglazer @evanpeterstoe @zi0nnnn @jadasogay @fuddaround @jaylie-bee @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @mrsarnold @lol-12n @sayurireidotcom @iwasbored-okay @kl0verk @bqringtears @agnesblight @scarlett177 @syraxsbigfanfr @youmeandjennessey @asapeveryday
#Ἅᥠâ đđđ¸đśđžđ¸đ
đđđ°đ
đżđˇ#đ đđđđđ..#just for the summer â bueckersworld#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#uconn womenâs basketball#uconn huskies#uconn x reader#paige bueckers uconn#pb5#wlw#paige buckets#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers fluff#paige bueckers wnba#paige blockers#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers angst
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Genuine question, how could something like this be undone?
I mean obviously that level of *heavy* socialisation and internalising is pretty hard to do anything about, and Iâm not going to spend all my spoons trying to âfix himâ on the wrong guys but like..
Idk, Iâm reminded of my grandfather(/Nanaâs partner) a lot in conversations like these - he grew up in a really sexist âyou have to be a strong man with no feelingsâ/âthe only thing that matters is your work ethicâ environment, but at his core is really sweet. As an adult he fell for my Nana, who is Very Much Empathy First and is essentially the matriarch of my extended family (on her/my Mumâs side).
Over the years Iâve watched him deal with those internalised ideas being challenged (ie: my Nana letting us live with them when we were older teens getting into work âbecause thatâs what family doesâ, & him having to face that worldview after growing up in a place where that was *not* what family did)
Heâs not exactly the same âkind of guyâ described here, heâs very loving and never took on the idea of viewing women as objects (only men, lol) - but my point I guess is that growing up with him has taught me that people can tackle these ideas, and changes can be made.
Idk. I spent a day once at this socialist menâs group (they were at an event I was at, but Iâm unfortunately not able to attend their regular meetings) and they/we were talking about little ways to challenge men who were making sexist comments about women (bc challenging that with them, as men, can unfortunately mean theyâre more likely to listen to you and has been proven by a few of us to lead to introspection and change from them)
But I wonder about these more wide-spanning worldviews,, what would be an effective way of challenging that with men without having to bring out a lot of words and ideas theyâre not already aware of?
I guess some little things like âwhat, so if you met the coolest woman youâve ever met, but they took a photo of their food, you wouldnât want to get to know them?â and/or something like âwhy women with [descriptor] specifically?â to encourage them to think a bit more on it could be a start?
But then for the second one I feel like the response would be something like âcause theyâre all selfishâ or â[some other nebulous idea they donât really understand, calling them feminists or leftists or something]â and idrk what the best response to that would be.
Idk, I hate seeing shit like this. My circle of friends is mostly queer and anarchist or socialist, but Iâm a guy (trans FTM, but generally pass) and sometimes straight men talk to me (ie at work). I really want to use that position to try and help these guys challenge their worldview, but the problem is that they have so little words or understanding that itâs hard to know how to get shit through.
For lack of a better phrase - Men are Stupid
Does anyone have any advice or ideas on how someone in my position (or generally!) can get through to them?/how to talk about these things to people who lack prior understanding of how the patriarchy works etc.?
Obviously so many men are just fucked and genuinely evil, but the people I talk to are college aged(usually 17 or 18-early 20s), deciding on what their worldview will be going forward (and open to input from people around them), and often⌠unfortunately⌠getting a lot of disgusting new ideas from online gurusđ¤Ž
The longer I exist as a loudly proudly gay man the more I think that cishet men aren't actually attracted to women.
#Sorry I talk so much. I hope this makes sense#That Andrew Tate shit is a whole other can of worms though obviously#Trynna work on that shit here but like#the best thing I can think of is like âmenâs adviceâ posters of zine articles#which is really not enough. but I donât want to become a fucking menâs advice guru#bc Iâm not the Right Guy for it#so I just feel stuck like idk wtf to do#autism brain (? I do have it but not 100% sure if this is bc of it) for me means Iâm constantly trying to work out how to fix shit#but thereâs literally a million awful things wrong with the world rn that I feel like I have to have a way of fixing#as a random ass citizen#that I constantly feel like Iâm just fucking up for not being able to do the right things#anyway sorry for the unrelated vent in the tags uhh
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