#we’ll get a bittersweet ending I promise

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land Part 5

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

You can find Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, and Part 4 here!

42k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: No super specific wedding details are given; some anxiety; very fluffy; Robby and Jake make up; Jack is a consent king; use of eyedrops; unprotected PIV sex (bc implied with relationship); oral sex (both m and f receiving); fingering; SoftDom!Jack; manhandling; light condescension; bondage; use of your underwear as a gag; knife appears in the bedroom but is not used on anyone; doggy; alcohol; reader: loves champagne, sits on Jack’s lap, takes Jack’s last name, gets drunk, wears a dress; author: did not proofread, faded to black on a lot of sex, did not pick a wedding venue because I’m too picky; overwhelmingly NOT proofread; no use of y/n or related

Summary: You and Jack get married.

AN: And so we've reached the end. The wedding fought me every step of the way, so hopefully that is not reflected in the quality of it, lol. I'm sure part of it was some subconscious block because I don't want them to end. Honestly, it’s quite bittersweet and a little emotional posting this final part as silly as that makes me feel. I've just spent a lot of time in their heads. While Part 1 was not the first Jack fic I posted, it was the first one I worked on and the idea that got me writing again after a four years. Thank you all so so much for reading and supporting me along the way! ♥️ I would be nothing without you all, so truly, thank you for reading the copious amount of words this universe became. I hope it lives up and feels like the ending they deserve. ♥️

Jack’s forehead furrows as his eyebrows raise at your question. “Flew to Vegas tomorrow and elope?” He wants to make sure he heard you correctly. 

“Yeah.” You nod vigorously, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together. You start chewing on your bottom lip and playing with your fingers in your lap. Jack knows you’re genuinely distressed right now and he hates it, hates that he caused it, even inadvertently. He sits up further, leans forward so that he’s closer to you where you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Well, I… I think,” Jack pauses, just needs another second. “I think you’ll regret it, not having the wedding. And don’t-” Jack reaches out and grabs your wrist gently so that you can’t get off the bed like you were moving to, he can already hear your brain attacking you. He finds your gaze again before he keeps talking. “Don’t think that means I don’t want to get married to you. I do. And if we decide we want to elope to Vegas or anywhere else, then I’m okay with that. As long as you end up my wife, okay? I’m not saying no, Doll.” He lets go of your wrist and grabs your hand, laces it with his. “I’m saying that I think we should sleep on it. I think you want the wedding we’ve planned so far and that you’re beyond exhausted and that your anxiety is driving your brain right now, yeah?” 

You just look at him, seem a little like you’re lost to your thoughts, not in them, to them. “I… yeah,” you whisper. 

Jack knows he needs to get you back in bed with him, get you close and help you find your way back and then to sleep. “Come here?” He pats your side of the bed next to him and gives you a little smile. “Please.” You release his hand and crawl over him, snuggle up under the covers into his side and bury your head in his neck. His arms wrap tightly around you and he kisses your temple. “Good girl,” he murmurs, “thank you.” 

You can’t help the way ‘good girl’ makes you shiver. Maybe that’s what you need, you think to yourself, to have Jack fuck you in a hard reset after the week you had. Being in his arms is more than enough though, has you calming and coming back to a state of rationality pretty quick. 

“We’ll sleep on it, okay? I promise we can talk about it in the morning and that I’m not saying no.” Jack clicks his tongue. “Could you pick your dress up early and bring it with us to wear in Vegas?” That makes you snort a laugh into the side of his neck. Jack smiles to himself, pleased he was able to get a laugh out of you. He rocks you a little playfully. “What? I’m dying to see you in your wedding dress.”

“I probably could, yeah.” You slide your hand down Jack’s bare chest a little, trace shapes with your finger, write little messages of love. “But no. We don’t need to sleep on it. I don’t even know what that was. I want what we’ve planned so far.”

Jack rubs your back with one hand. “I’ll check in with you on it tomorrow, okay? Just to be sure. And I think maybe a little panic and a lot of exhaustion. But you also don’t need to know what it was, yeah? It’s okay to not know.” 

You nod. “I just like knowing. Makes me feel like I have some control, which I know is a total fucking illusion.” You sigh into him, nuzzle against his neck. You like the way his stubble feels, it’s oddly grounding for you. “I hate this. Being like this.” 

Jack bites back the urge to say you’re not being like anything because he knows what you mean. Knows you mean you hate feeling so emotionally labile and panicking and feeling out of control. “I know, Doll.” He doesn’t need to say more. It’s not the time. It’s not why you said it. You just need to feel heard and seen. Jack uses his hand on the back of your neck to pull you away from him a little so that he can see you. “Can I do anything?”

You look at him and then to the side as you think. Think back on the flash of a thought you had. Maybe you should ask him to, ask him to fuck you into a hard reset. He does it so well. Knows just how to fuck until you’re sobbing and releasing every pent up emotion in you, and keeps going, fucking you thoughtless and incoherent and unable to feel or think about anything other than him. Knows how to break your mind in just the right way to get all of your emotional turmoil out. Knows how to take his time putting you back together with his touch and his words and his love so that you feel like the normal version of yourself when you wake up the next day, not however you had been feeling. 

He always takes such good care of you after even if the memories of it are so heavily fogged they almost don’t truly exist. He holds you while you keep sobbing, lays on you often, his body weight helping with your shaking, cleans you up, makes sure you get to the bathroom and have some water and sometimes a snack before you fall asleep, whispers reassurances and little expressions of his love while he rocks you until you fall asleep, holds you the entire night as you sleep curled up on him. 

Yeah. You think that just might do the trick, especially with as exhausted as you are and how hard he’ll make you sleep. 

Your eyes find Jack’s again, his eyebrows slightly raised. He knows you thought of something with how long you were looking away. Your expression, the look in your eye and the specific way you look at him makes him think he knows what you need. “Jack,” you whisper. Your voice confirms it. 

Still though. He wants to be explicitly sure so that he doesn’t start something you weren’t asking for that will actually hurt you or make you worse. “Fuck you all the way gone?”

“Yeah.” You nod, eyes already blown wide. “Please.” 

Jack nods, rolls the both of you so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you. “You’re sleeping until you wake up tomorrow. I’m not setting an alarm and I’m not waking you up when I wake up. And if you wake up at a time I deem to be too early you’re going back to sleep, even if I have to put you back to sleep myself.” He drops his hips against you then and grinds against you as if you didn’t already know what he meant. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you breathe.

Six weeks. Only six weeks left until the wedding. It feels so short and so long at the same time. Pretty much everything is planned, everything you could possibly do up to this point is done. It’s just a waiting game for the next couple of weeks. 

You’d worked late tonight so you went to the hospital instead of home, planning on surprising Jack and suggesting you grab dinner somewhere if he was up to it after his shift. If not, maybe you could grab takeout on the way home. 

When you found Jack he was finishing some charting at the desk and talking to Robby. Somewhere along the lines the conversation between the three of you turned to your bachelor and bachelorette parties.  

“No strippers.” Jack glances up at Robby from the computer. 

“Okay.” Robby nods. 

Jack looks up at him again. “No strippers.” His eyes return to the computer.

“No strippers.” Robby nods again. He doesn’t even sound facetious. Something about the interaction so far is quite entertaining to you. 

“Hey,” Jack looks up at him again, “I’m serious. No strippers. She won’t even be the mad one. I will be. No strippers.” 

“Peter, he agreed the last two times.” Jack looks over at you and blinks as you nod. You know you should stop there but you can’t help yourself. You shrug, try and look nonchalant. “He’s seen my boobs, he knows you don’t need to be looking at any stripper’s tits.” 

Jack’s head whips back over to Robby, eyes glaring just a little at his best friend. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Okay, I never said that.” Robby holds up his hands. “She did. I didn’t even think about that. I was simply respecting the boundary you set when you said no strippers for your bachelor party.” Robby brings his hands back down and shrugs. “But again, they’re very nice b-”

“I,” Jack interrupts Robby loudly to get him to stop talking before returning to a normal voice, glaring daggers at him now, “will cancel the entire party and find someone else to officiate our wedding if you finish that fucking sentence Michael.”

You struggled to hide your laughter the second Robby started to say you have nice boobs again but Jack’s reaction pulls an audible laugh from you. Both Robby and Jack turn to look at you. “I just,” you shrug, “you guys are funny.” It didn’t escape your notice when Myrna moved in closer. You and her shared a conspiratorial look, something you seem to often do when you’re together.

“You know,” Myrna interjects. All three sets of eyes find her in her chair a little behind Jack and Robby. “I could show Fruitcake my tits. Then they’d be the last pair he saw.”

“Thank you, Myrna, that would be perfect.” Jack smiles at her genuinely before looking to Robby with an overly saccharine smile. 

“Absolutely not. Put,” Robby emphasizes the word and shuts his eyes “your shirt down Myrna.” She’d started to pull it up. He opens his eyes and looks at Jack. “The officiant threat? It works both ways.”

Robby turns and starts to walk away and Jack snorts making Robby stop and turn back around. “Oh please, you love us and her white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies far too much to even dream of it, Michael.”

“Don’t worry Fruitcake, you can have some of this cookie.” Myrna tells Robby with a suggestive eyebrow raise and smirk before starting to wheel herself away.

Jack bites back his laughter and holds his hands up in truce at that one. He goes to say something but Robby stops him. 

“Just don’t.” Robby holds his hand up at Jack. “Just don’t say anything and we’re all going to leave and you’re going to buy me several drinks.” 

Jack looks over at you, eyebrows raised, smirking. “I suppose I did kind of start it, didn’t I?” You admit with a nod. “A few drinks seems fair.” 

The wedding is in five weeks, just over a month. It’s all you can think about as Jack drives you to Dana’s house. It’s 2 p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve been invited over for a little party for Dana to show off the kitchen remodel they just finished on the house. 

“Did she say if lots of people are coming?” you ask Jack. 

Jack shrugs. “She didn’t, no. Just said to show up with you.” You smile at that. Sounds like Dana. 

“Hey, are you doing the whole something old something new thing?” Jack asks.  “I heard a patient discussing it yesterday and it made me wonder.”

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it I guess.” You think on it for a few seconds and then shrug. “I mean I guess I’d like to but no, probably not. Where would I get that stuff from, you know? I don’t want to ask anything else of anyone, everyone has already done so much for us.”

Jack hums in acknowledgment. “People would if you asked. Without hesitation or feeling burdened.”

“I know, but still. It’s really not a huge deal.” You look over at Jack and squeeze his hand where it rests on your thigh. “It’s not like we’re doing all of the wedding traditions.”

“No we most certainly are not.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you with a bit of a lopsided grin. Jack turns down the street and finds a place to park. “Time to go see how many people showed.” He gets out of the car and walks around to open your door for you, gives you a kiss as you get out. 

The two of you walk hand in hand up to Dana’s door and knock. “Hi!” Dana throws the door open. “So glad you could make it!” You’re both ushered in as you exchange hellos and hugs. Jack and Dana share a look as you set your purse down on the credenza with your back to them. 

“Well! Lead the way! I’m excited to see it, especially since you wouldn’t tell me which granite you settled on.” You throw her a look. 

She laughs, starts walking you through the hallway towards the kitchen. But the three of you stop once you hit the living room. 

The living room is decorated in bridal shower decor, a banner reading ‘bride to be’ hanging from the mantel and sitting and standing and mingling amongst it all are a few of your coworkers who you’re close to, your friend, and many of the Pitt crew, Victoria, Samira, Cassie, Mel, Heather, Kim, Parker and Princess. A chorus of soft ‘surprise!’ rings out as everyone looks at you and tips their cups to you. You smile and give a little wave, still shocked and struggling a bit to process. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble. “Dana?” You look over at her questioningly. “You didn’t… this is… wow.” A surprise bridal shower for you. A genuine, you had no fucking clue you weren’t coming here for a get together to show off the remodeled kitchen, surprise. 

“Surprise!” Dana laughs. 

“Yeah,” you laugh out incredulously. You turn to Jack. “Did you know?” You’re not sure why you’re asking. You can tell from the lack of surprise on his face that he did. 

“I did, but only for like a week,” Jack explains. You give him a lingering look of bewilderment mixed with incredulity before turning back to Dana. 

“Dana, this is so much.” You shake your head at her a little. “This must have been so much work, I… thank you, I just, I don’t know, I don’t know what to say.” You laugh a little. 

Jack slips away to give you and Dana a moment, goes back to the front door to wait for you to come say goodbye. He smiles to himself. He’s glad Dana ended up planning one for you. She’d asked him off-hand months ago if you were planning one and he’d told her no, you weren’t, but he thought your friend might try to. He didn’t hear anything else about it until last week when she revealed the kitchen party was really a bridal shower for you.

“You don’t have to say anything. All you have to do is come have a good time with us.” Dana smirks at you. “We have so much champagne to get through.” That makes you smile. You love champagne. “And it’s real champagne, not sparkling wine.” She winks at you. 

“Oh I’m sure it’s amazing, I just, I don’t know I feel bad because you guys already threw us such an amazing engagement party, and now this and you really didn’t have to. I love it and appreciate it so much, I just hope you didn’t feel like you had to since I wasn’t planning one.” Your brows and forehead are furrowed in concern. 

The engagement party wasn’t a surprise, you and Jack knew about it from the beginning. You just weren’t involved in the planning, were given a date and time and eventually a place to show up to. It had been beautiful, incredibly you and Jack, and so obvious how well those who planned it knew you as individuals and a couple. You couldn’t have planned a better one for yourselves. Nor would you have, but you were both told that everyone wanted to celebrate the two of you and if nothing else it was a reason for a party. It had been perfect. And you know this bridal shower will be too. You’re still just floored.

“I didn’t at all.” Dana smiles at you, gives you another hug. “And I wasn’t involved in the planning of the engagement party, that was all Robby and Heather and Mel, so it’s not like I’m pulling double duty. Plus I had a lot of help.” She glances over at your friend who tips her drink at you again with a smirk. Dana releases you but keeps her hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “Come on, go say goodbye to your man and then you can see the granite while you get some food and a drink.” 

“Thank you, Dana.” You manage to catch one of her hands when she takes them off your shoulders. “I mean it,” you squeeze her hand, “it really means so much to me and to Jack and I know I can be bad at expressing it. So thank you.” 

Dana smiles at you warmly in that way she does, eyes knowing and head bowing just a little to make it knowing. “You’re welcome.”

“Alright, let me say goodbye to Jack!” You turn from Dana and walk back into the hallway where Jack’s standing waiting for you, pleased smile on his face. “I can’t believe you knew.” You shake your head at him. 

“Keeping that secret was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done and I only knew for a week. I wanted to tell you so badly.” He laughs a little, wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close and you rest your hands on his chest. “But you deserve this. The surprise. The shower. I know you think you don’t and I know me saying you do isn’t going to convince you, but you do.” He leans in and gives you a quick kiss. “Enjoy yourself, yeah?”

You nod. “I always do with everyone here.” 

Jack laughs a little. “Good. I expect to hear all about it later.” 

“I’ll do my best to take notes for you.” You give him a little smirk for a second and then let your face even back out. “You picking me up?”

“Course,” he nods, “just call me when you’re ready Doll.”

“Okay.” The two of you share one last kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” You both walk over to the door and Jack steps out. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” 

A month. Only a month until the wedding. It’s swirling in Jack’s mind as he sits on the couch reading with the quiet buzz of the police scanner in the background when his phone goes off. He half expects it to be a message asking him to come get you from whatever bar or club it is you ended up at. 

Y - u come dwn

Y - ?

Y - pls

An amused smile makes its way onto Jack’s face. He’s seen you pretty tipsy before and it looks like he will be again. He thinks it’s cute the way you asked him to come down, how you knew he’d be up and waiting for you even though it’s 2:30 a.m. 

J - I’ll be waiting. 

Jack is only waiting outside for a few minutes before an SUV driven by Dana’s husband rolls up. He and Jack exchange knowing smiles and shake their heads. Jack walks over to the back door and can hear all the giggles before he even opens it. 

“Peter!” You beam at him, reaching for him with both hands as you sit on the seat of the car with your legs hanging out for a minute. “Hi! I missed you so much!” you giggle. Jack takes in your quite dilated pupils and the way you slur your words a bit and extremely giggly affect.

“Oh, you’re drunk drunk,” Jack laughs to himself as he takes your hands and helps you get out of the car, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist to help support and stabilize you as he gets you on the sidewalk.

The driver’s window rolls down. “They’re all more or less three sheets to the wind. The rest are sleeping in our guest room because I don’t trust them alone at home and don’t think they have partners. I’m glad one of them,” Dana’s husband points at you and smirks, “had the sense to call me and not an uber.”

Jack glances at you. “Yeah, I am too.”

“I was gonna call you but D has a bigger car an’ we could all fit,” you giggle, words slurring together as you lean further into Jack. Someone rolls the window down and Dana, your friend, Heather, and Samira’s heads become visible to varying extents.

Jack looks at them and then back at you and then back to Dana’s husband. “Good luck and godspeed.” Jack nods at him before turning his attention back to you. “Okay, Doll, let’s get you to bed.”

You take in a gasping breath and stand up a little straighter at his words, hands grabbing at the chest of Jack’s shirt. “Fan-fucking-tastic idea, Dr. Abbot. Do y’know how hot you are? Do I tell you enough? Look at him.” You look over at the window. “Wait no don’t he’s mine.” A second later you gasp. “Oh my god and he’s like your boss. Mostly. Kinda.” That makes you all burst into giggles again.

“Okay,” Jack drawls, he already knows his version of bed and yours are two very different things, “say goodnight.” 

“Goodnight! I love you all! Thank you! Debrief tomorrow!” You let go of Jack’s shirt with both hands to blow them all kisses and Jack’s quick to hold you even tighter as you sway now that you’re not holding onto him. You turn with Jack and start walking in, his arm never leaving your waist and hold on you never loosening. 

Getting you inside and to the bedroom is easier than Jack expected. You’re not super unsteady on your feet when he’s helping support you and guiding you. He’s never seen you this drunk, not that you’re blackout drunk by any means, he’s just never seen you like this. He finds it quite adorable, even if it’s a little difficult to keep your attention. 

Once you’re in your room Jack has you stand by the edge of the bed, planning on starting to take your clothes off so he can get you off to sleep. “You know you haven’t even kissed me?” You pout at him. 

Jack gives an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to get you inside safely.” He tilts your chin up and leans down and into you. “Come here,” he murmurs. His kisses are short but filled with so much reverence you could drown in it.

“Jack,” you sigh happily, get your lips on his neck and start to kiss and suck as your hands begin to wander. “Please.”

Jack laughs a little to try and cover the groan he can’t help but make when you manage to nibble at his neck. He pulls back up and looks at you. “Please what, Doll?”

“Please fuck me into next week.” 

“Mm,” Jack gives you a gentle smile and shakes his head, “you, my love, are far too drunk to consent to sex right now, as much as I would love to fuck you into next week.” 

“Jackie!” you whine, pout harder than he’s ever seen. It’s so adorable it’s a bit comical and he stifles a laugh. Maybe if he sees you naked, your drunk brain thinks, maybe then. 

You start taking off your clothes and the only reason he allows it is because he needs to get them off of you. Once you’re completely undressed you bite your lip when he starts to take his shirt off, thrilled your plan worked and ready to surge forward and suck hickies into his chest once he gets his pajama pants off. That’s why you’re so confused when Jack holds his shirt out for you. You only question it for a second though, drunk and horny brain thinking he just wants to fuck you while you’re wearing his shirt. 

You giggle at him. “So dirty, want me in your shirt. Want me to ride you too?” Your slurring is adorably intermittent. 

Jack shakes his head at you with an amused smirk. “I’d like you to come into the bathroom with me so I can take your makeup off.”

“Jack!” It’s a drawn out whine that almost makes his name two syllables this time. “We’re engaged.” You bring your left hand up towards his face and he has to grab your wrist gently to stop you from accidentally shoving your hand in his face. “See? That’s blanket consent.” You wink at him, or at least attempt to.

Jack laughs through his nose, smiling and shaking his head at you. “That’s not how that works, Doll.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and lean back on your elbows, open your legs for him a bit. “I think yes it is.” 

“I know no it’s not.” Jack raises his brows at you and gives you a little look with a small smile.

“Well I’m sayin’ yes,” you slur defiantly.  

“Doll, you are too drunk to say yes and have it mean yes. So I’m saying no, okay? First thing in the morning.” Jack gives you a little smiled grimace, trying to keep it light and tease you a little about the hangover he’s sure you’ll have. “If you’re feeling up to it.” 

But the humor doesn’t land and exactly what he was worried about happening happens. 

“You don’t want me?” It’s suddenly far more serious, your voice dripping with some real hurt, real insecurity. 

“I always want you.” Jack crouches down and holds your face in his hands, brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. “Hey,” he calls softly when you won’t meet his eyes. “Look at me.” You don’t. “Please? It’s important.” It takes a second but eventually you do as he asked and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gentle squeeze of your face. “I always want you. And if you weren’t drunk, absolutely, I’d already be inside you. Remember, I said you’re too drunk to consent as much as I would love to fuck you into next week?” You blink at him, vaguely recalling him making such a statement but eyeing him suspiciously. “I promise you I am very hard right now. So please believe me that this has nothing to do with whether I want you and am attracted to you because yes and yes, I promise you Doll. I always want you. Your trust in me to protect you and take care of you and respect you is something I want too. My wants are at odds right now.” Jack goes to say more but stops, shakes his head a little, smiles at you. “And I know you’re not really taking any of this in so I’m going to stop. But know that I always want you. Always.”

You’re silent for a moment and Jack is concerned you don’t believe him and trying to think of a different approach. “Okay, but I always want you.” You smirk at him, pulled from your sadness and back to giggly and horny and happy drunk. You grab his hands from your face and try to get them to grab your boobs but Jack won’t let you, pulling his hands away. “So it’s the same. So yes, we can. Yes, it means yes.” 

“That was a poor choice of words.” Jack sighs to himself and brings his chin to his chest for a second. “It’s not quite the same or what I meant.” He shakes his head at you. “As soon as you’re ready to and want to once you’re sober, okay?” You whine and go to say something, probably argue more. “I got your favorite Ben and Jerry’s today. You want to-”

You gasp and stand up, Jack following you up and his arms quickly encircling you to keep you from falling over. “Did you really?” 

Jack nods as he guides you back down so you’re sitting on the bed again. “I really did. How about you have some of that and some pedialyte and ibuprofen while I get your makeup off? And then we’ll sleep, yeah?”

“Okay. But only because you got Ben and Jerry’s.” You point at him in the overdramatic way only a drunk person can. 

“Good.” Jack smiles, leans down to kiss your forehead before starting to go to the kitchen. “Stay sitting here, okay? Please.” 

You hum your agreement. “At least one of us will be getting BJs tonight,” you mutter as he walks away. But Jack hears it and starts laughing. 

He turns back to you at the door, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he looks at you. “I love you so much, you know that?” You nod at him and let yourself fall back onto the bed.

Two weeks later you’re standing at the desk in the Pitt chatting with Jack. It’s a common sight anymore. You’re waiting for Dana. She’s sneaking out early to go to your last dress fitting with you. The wedding is only two weeks away and while there’s of course last minute wedding stress, truly you’re more excited than anything, ready for it to be here and be Jack’s wife, take his last name. And Jack is just as excited, just as antsy for it to be here. 

“I can’t even see the shoes?” Jack gives you a little pout. It’s adorable and it honestly makes you consider showing him because he’s doing it here at work, in front of people. 

“You can’t even see the shoes,” you confirm, give his pushed out bottom lip a quick kiss. 

“You’re so mean to me having them right here in front of me in a bag and not letting me see!” He gestures at the bag, keeps giving you those puppy dog eyes that almost always work on you. Almost. 

You step a little closer to him and drop your voice so only he can hear. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay Dr. Abbot?” You smirk when his jaw clenches and rolls. 

He leans in even closer, hunches a bit to bring your faces closer together. “By giving me a fashion show of your wedding dress and shoes?” He raises his eyebrows and gives you an encouraging smile and nod. He knows you’re most likely taking the dress home tonight. 

“Peter!” You smack at his chest playfully. 

“I had to try!” Jack straightens back up to his full height.

“Mhm,” you hum at him. “It’s too bad, you would have really liked my little make it up to you treat.” Another clench and roll of his jaw.

“Oh? And what would-”

“Oh, hey! You’re here, great.” Robby interrupts Jack who turns to stare daggers at him for interrupting his chance to find out what you had planned. “I uh, I need to talk to you both. Can we talk? Um, over here?”

Robby starts walking towards the family room and you and Jack exchange confused and slightly concerned looks before following him. Robby seems nervous, jumpy almost. Jack knows he hasn’t been like this all day, only just now. Robby holds open the door for you both, shuts it and sits across from you. 

He clears his throat and looks at you. “Jack already told you about Jake and I.” It’s a statement that picks up just slightly at the end as he seeks confirmation. 

“Yes and I’m so happy for you Robby, for both of you. I’d love to meet him when you’re ready, we could have you guys over or something.” You smile at him, warm and enthusiastic and genuine.

Jack had told you about Robby and Jake. Once he’d left your house the morning after Leah’s sister came in Robby had called Jake and Jake answered. And Jake agreed to meet up with Robby at Robby’s place to watch a game and talk some maybe. Apparently it had all come out then. Jack had been right. Robby had been trying to give Jake space and let Jake come back to him, but Jake wasn’t sure how to find his way back to Robby, how to ask Robby to forgive him or how to reach out and ask to hang out, not after everything he’d said that day. And since then over the last month things had been getting back closer to how they were before Pitt Fest between Robby and Jake, different, yes, for multiple reasons, but similar in the amount of talking and seeing each other. 

“Yeah, that would be great, I think he’d enjoy that. He’s asked about you Jack.” Robby looks over at him. “But, um, on that note, kind of, I was won-”

“He should come to the wedding!” You blurt it out and cut Robby off without even realizing it because you just had to say the thought as soon as it came into your head. “Oh my god.” You cover your hand with your mouth and Jack has to laugh. You remove your hand after a second. “I’m so sorry, I just had the thought and, and it doesn’t matter. Please, go on.” 

Robby’s stuck blinking at you for a moment. Jack looks at Robby and then you and then back to Robby and snorts a laugh. 

“He was about to ask if Jake could come to the wedding.”

You look at Jack and back to Robby. “Really?”

Robby nods. “Yeah. But it’s okay if he can’t, like if you don’t have the table space or dinner or any of that I know it’s like two weeks away and you probably can’t change numbers.”

“Of course he can come, we want him to come.” Jack gives Robby a bit of a you had to ask? look. 

“We booked extra spaces and food just in case. And he’s basically your son, he’s not just invited, we want him there! I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it and ask earlier-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Robby cuts you off with a bit of a laugh. “It means a lot that you guys want him there. I appreciate it.” He stands up. “That’s all I had, I just didn’t want you to feel awkward if you had to say no in the middle of the ED because of space or whatever.”

The second you step out someone is calling for Robby. “I’m being paged.” Robby raises his eyebrows and walks backwards for a second before turning around to walk off to where he’s needed. 

“Hey! There you are!” Dana calls, starts walking over to you. It’s strange seeing her in anything other than scrubs. “You ready?”

“Yeah!” You turn back to Jack and lean up for a kiss and quick hug. “I’ll see you soon Peter, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack returns your hug and kiss, but catches your wrist as you start to walk away. You turn and look back at him with a smile and raised brows. Jack looks serious with just a touch of what seems almost like desperation. “What was it? The make it up treat for me when I get home?”

Your smile shifts into a smirk as you pull your hand from him and walk backwards slowly. “That’s for me to know and you to maybe find out, lover boy.”

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

You and Jack emerge from the metro just across from the Louvre. Grabbing Jack’s hand you lead the two of you over towards a side entrance and enter near the restaurant patio and walk out into the plaza with the inverted pyramid. After you’ve walked closer you release Jack’s hand so that you can take a couple of photos with your phone.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You walk ahead of Jack a bit without realizing it.

“Stunning,” Jack murmurs to himself. But Jack isn’t looking around at the pyramid and the buildings. Jack is focused solely on you. He stays behind you but moves to the side a little bit and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box he’d gotten just for this, takes your engagement ring out of it. He actually had forced himself to wear your ring on a chain around his neck this morning, just for this and had taken it off the chain while waiting for you to use the bathroom earlier in the day.

He keeps himself behind you by a few steps and pulls his pant leg up a bit as he slides down on one knee. Again. 

“What do you think? I know it probably doesn’t live up to expectations with how I went on about it, I just love it so much for some reason.” You smile to yourself and turn to where you think Jack is going to be standing, wanting to see his expression as he takes it in. But he’s not there and so your brows furrow as you start to turn to look for him. 

Jack smiles in anticipation. He knows that it’s a little ridiculous maybe, probably, seeing as how you’re already engaged, but still. As much as his other proposal felt right and was right, this still feels kind of right too. You turn completely and your eyes find him already down on one knee this time.

“Shut the fuck up.” You clamp a hand over your mouth. You know he’s already proposed but even so, that’s the first thing you say? You think to yourself. Really? 

Jack laughs, closing his eyes and leaning forward on his knee a little bit. “Oh my god,” he breathes through a small laugh, smiling as wide as he ever has and shaking his head as he straightens back up and looks up at you. “I love you so goddamn much. That was so perfectly you.”

You pull your hand from your mouth and open it like you’re going to say something and then close it, put your hand back over it. 

Jack has to laugh a little at that too. He decides to keep it short and sweet this time. “You are far and away the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I hope you know that.” He’s still smiling but becomes a little more serious, eyes sparkling with mirth and tears. “I want to do every day and every night with you. I love you. So what do you say, Doll? Will you marry me?”

You move your hand from your mouth as a few tears slip down your face. You’re beaming at Jack as you start to nod. “Yes” you giggle, “yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you, Jack Abbot.” 

After you spend the day at the Louvre Jack explains why he had you bring a nice cocktail dress with you. He’d made a reservation at a quite upscale Parisian restaurant to celebrate the second proposal. As thrilled as you are to have gone back to the hotel and gotten all dressed up and to be here and as special and as spoiled as you feel, half of you is ready to throw back your champagne and drag Jack back to the hotel. He’s in a pair of slim fit black dress pants, a simple collared button up shirt in white and a black blazer that matches his pants. 

You order a very nice bottle of champagne to share during dinner. Once your glasses are poured, you hold yours up and tip it towards Jack a little. “To the Abbots.” 

Jack swallows hard but mirrors you, lifting his glass and tipping it towards you a little before you carefully clink your glasses together. “To the Abbots.” 

The drink he takes is fairly quick because he wants to watch you and the way your lips wrap around the rim of the flute and how the flicker of the candle on your table with the low lighting of the restaurant make your eyes look almost moltent. He’s particularly wired for you tonight, can’t really put his finger on why. 

Maybe it’s just the whole thing, being in Paris together, having just proposed again, you in that dress. Maybe the second proposal has just really shoved it right back in his face that you’re going to be his wife. His wife. 

Whatever the reason is all Jack knows is he’s been half hard since you left the hotel, and you are, unknowingly in fairness to you, winding him up more and more with every little thing you do. He doesn’t want to rush this, at all, and he doesn’t, but that tension and need for you just continues to build. 

He doesn’t realize it but it’s the same for you. Jack looks so fucking hot dressed like this. He always does but there’s something about this and how rare it is for you to see him like this and the fact that you’re seeing him like this in Paris that’s driving you up a wall. 

You get through the bottle of champagne while eating your appetizer and mains. You both decide on a dessert to share and a drink, Jack picking a fancy scotch you’re praying you’ll be able to taste on him later. 

As your waitress is walking away Jack messes with his tie, unknotting it and shoving it in his pocket before undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. In part because he has a plan and in part because he does in fact feel smothered and too hot, but not from the temperature of the room. “It’s hot in here, I was dying with that thing, sorry Doll.” 

Your eyes narrow and you cock your head at him but don’t say anything. You know he runs hotter than you but, at least to you, the restaurant isn’t particularly hot and you’re usually the one who’s more temperature sensitive. And something about what Jack just did feels familiar. But then maybe you’re just lightheaded and dizzy by how he somehow looks even hotter with his collar open like that. If he takes his blazer off and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows you’ll be on your knees between his legs with everyone watching.

“Hey?” Jack’s voice cuts through your thoughts and brings you back. “You good?” He’s almost a little too nonchalant with the question. 

You look at him for a moment before you smile and nod at him. “More than, Peter. Looking forward to dessert.”

Jack hums low, eyes greedy as they roam over your face, down your neck to your cleavage and then back up so he’s looking you in the eyes again. He fills out well past half hard, thankful he’s sitting and that the table provides cover. “Me too, Doll, me too.” 

Before you can say anything else your drinks are brought over and by the time the waitress walks away again Jack is asking you a question about Versailles tomorrow. It feels like he’s trying to distract you. You let him.

Dessert comes not long after your drinks and looks amazing. It’s as delicious as it looks and the soft moan you let out when you first taste it has Jack even more riled. He’s ready to slam his drink, finish the dessert in two bites and get you the fastest taxi back to the hotel so that he can finally be tasting you or inside of you or fingering you. He doesn’t particularly care which at the moment, he just needs you. 

It hits you mid sip and you take a hum in, have to temper your reaction so you can swallow and not bring the glass down to the table so hard it breaks in your hand. “Tie raincheck.” You nod a little. “Tie raincheck, that is exactly what this is.” 

Jack raises his eyebrows at you, tries to feign confusion. “No idea what you mean, Doll.” Jack takes a sip of scotch.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes you do.”

Jack sets his drink down and looks up at you. “Dessert.” He points to it with his spoon.

“Tell me I’m right.” You can feel your pulse quicken, fight the urge to rub your legs together to get the tiniest bit of friction. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him as you think about what’s to come, how he’s going to use the tie on you. 

There’s a subtle shift in the energy between the two of you, Jack becoming far more dominant as you decide whether to behave or be a brat. “Doll.”

“Peter.”

Jack cocks his head at you. “Eat.” There’s a bit of a warning to it. 

“You know exactly what I mean. On the roof of the hospital because we didn’t get to go to the wedding.” You set your spoon down and lean in a bit. “You told me you promised to give me a raincheck on the tie because I’d said something earlier about what you’d wear to the wedding and the tie would be in your pocket at the reception waiting to be used on me.”   

Jack’s eyes darken a bit more and he sets his spoon down, leans in close to you over the table and holds your gaze. “I know that as soon as we finish this,” he nods down at the dessert without breaking eye contact that’s started to smolder, voice lower and more gravelly, “we can go back to the hotel and I can use the tie shoved in my pocket on you and fuck you until you’re so cock drunk off me the only three things you can say are ‘Jack,’ ‘yours,’ and ‘wife.’” He leans back to sit normally and picks his spoon back up, gives you a little smile like he didn’t just promise to fuck you stupid. “Dessert first, yeah?” 

It takes you a few seconds but eventually you nod wordlessly and pick up your spoon. 

You start eating noticeably faster than normal and taking bigger sips of your drink. Jack pins your spoon with the rounded point of his the next time you go for a bite. You look up at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. You’re eating dessert like he asked. 

“Don’t rush.” You let out the smallest whine but Jack catches it, raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you for a moment before letting your spoon go. 

You do as he asks, slow yourself back down to your normal pace, or at least as close as you can get with how wired he’s gotten you. Jack knows and lets it happen. He knows he’s taking slightly bigger bites than he normally would because as much as he loves teasing you and dragging it out he’s also pretty desperate to get back to the hotel, to tease you and drag it out there. 

You finally finish dessert and your drinks and Jack pays. He flags down a taxi to get you guys back to the hotel and the way he waves and whistles to get the driver’s attention since their window is down has absolutely no business being as hot as it is. 

In the cab you can’t help yourself. Your hand wanders over to Jack’s thigh and moves up and in until you find his semi. You know it’s going to come back to bite you in the ass but you can’t help yourself and rub him, try to get your thumb around the ridge at the head of his cock how you know he likes. Jack stifles a quiet grunt as you get him harder. His jaw clenches, chest starts to heave a little, breathing a bit louder. His hand wraps around your wrist and moves your hand, pins it to the seat between you. You pout, both because he’s stopped your fun and because he deliberately hasn’t given you the satisfaction and looked at you since you got in.   

Just as he always does Jack walks around the car and opens the door for you when you get to the hotel, gives you his hand to take to help you out. He looks at you finally as you take it and let him help you out, gives you a little smirked smile and raise of an eyebrow. He’s quiet as you walk through the hotel and in the elevator. You were hoping he’d push you up against the wall of it and makeout with you, let you find out if you can taste his scotch on him. But no. He just lets the anticipation and tension build. A hand on the small of your back guides you to your hotel room where he opens the door for you. 

“Stop,” Jack instructs you as you step into the bedroom. You hesitate and he sees it, sees you deciding whether you’re going to push him tonight. You decide not to and so do as he asks, stopping in place. “Good.” Jack turns and goes back to get the door deadbolted and secured before coming back to you. 

Warm hands find the zipper of your dress and pull it down, help you shrug out of it. He crouches to get your shoes off and have you step out of the dress. Jack takes his time hanging the dress up, watching from the corner of his eyes how you shift on your feet in anticipation. 

He walks back to you, stands in front of you this time, eyes dragging down your body, lingering on the lingerie you’re wearing, that he had to force himself to ignore after he got your dress off you so he could tease you by hanging it up. “You get this for me?” Jack slips a finger under one of the bra straps and pulls it away before releasing it to snap back against your skin. It makes you shiver. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

Jack hums at that, brings his eyes to yours and gives you a smile. “So good using your words without me having to ask.” His attention returns to your body and the lingerie. He starts palming at himself over his pants much like you did in the cab. He lets out a low breath as he hardens fully and fights the urge to say fuck it and just take you now because god knows he wants to. 

Instead, he pulls his hands away and moves them down towards the bottom of the set where they play with the waistband, making their way to the side and repeating his actions with your bra, slipping a finger under it and pulling the material towards him before letting it snap back against you. You’re breathing much heavier now, both of you can hear it.

“It’s very pretty, and you’re stunning in it, Doll,” he murmurs, flicks his eyes back to yours so he can look you in the eyes for a second, make sure you know how much he means it. Jack hums as one hand moves to his pocket. He pulls out his pocket knife and flicks it open without looking as his other hand toys with one side of the waistband that sits on the outside of your hip. “It’s a shame really.”

He pulls the fabric out far enough to slip the blade under it and pulls, cutting through the material with ease. 

“Fuck, Jack.” His eyes flash to yours when you say his name. There’s something darkly and deeply possessive about his look. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen it this intense before. It makes your heart beat faster. 

He does the same to the other side, holds onto the material so that he can slide your underwear from between your legs before it hits the floor. He glances down at the gusset and then back at you. “Messy girl.” Jack smirks, and closes the knife, slips it back in his pocket with your underwear. He brings his hand down to your center, runs a couple of fingers through you to see how wet you already are for him. “Fuck,” he groans, other hand rubbing his cock just for some friction and relief, “that for me too?”

You nod and he raises an eyebrow. “Yes, yes. For you. Always for you.” 

Jack throbs against his boxer briefs that are entirely too tight for his liking now. You’re testing his patience without even knowing it, just by standing here and doing what he asks. It’s not a bad thing, he’s just acutely aware of how much teasing you is teasing him. 

He pulls his hand away and licks his fingers clean and his other hand pops the clasp of your bra. The whole thing makes a shiver race up your spine, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. He tosses the bra aside and spends a moment just looking at your breasts, licks his lips without even realizing it. 

Jack pulls away a bit and his hand finds his other pocket, pulls out the tie. You whimper a little at the sight. “Now, what to do with this?” He cocks his head at you. “Could gag you with it. Tie your ankles together.” His hands find yours, bring them up in front of you and turn your wrists slightly so that your hands are in front of your chest, palm to palm like you’re praying. “I think,” Jack lilts, “this is what we’re going to do. You were just so handsy in the cab, afterall, I’m sure you had your fill of touching me then. Plus,” he takes your underwear from your pocket and lays it over one of your shoulders, “we have these for your mouth.” He binds your hands together with the tie expertly, running it across the back of your palms and fingers in addition to your wrists so you can’t even open your hands to try and touch him. He knots it off with a bowline knot. Strong, but very easily undone should the need arise. 

“No!” You shake your head at him, whining and pleading. “I didn’t, I didn’t!”

Jack hums at you. “Well that’s also a shame, then.” He grabs your underwear from your shoulder and brings them to your mouth. “Open.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Jack freezes immediately. Wait is not one of your safe words but it’s also not something you end up saying that much during sex, especially not how you just said it. “No! Not bad!” That stops him from pulling out the knot. “A kiss, please.” It’s almost begged and Jack lets out a little laugh, a small amused smirk forming. “I want to know if I can taste your scotch on you, please, I’ve been thinking about it since you ordered it. Please, please, Jack. I’ll be so good, please!”

The smirk slips from Jack’s face as his jaw grinds at your words, at how you’ve been thinking about tasting him for that long. “I suppose you’ve been listening quite well so far.” You both know this is as much for him as it is for you after your admission. 

Jack holds your face in his hands and leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens in anticipation and he’s quick to give you what you want, sliding his tongue into your mouth, one hand sliding from your face down to grope at your ass as he gets lost in the kiss. It’s longer than he intended but he doesn’t care, he can’t get enough of the moans it’s pulling from you every time he licks into you and sucks on your bottom lip. 

He forces himself to pull away. “So?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “I could. Tasted so fucking good.” 

“Good.” Jack steps back and takes his hands off you but hovers them nearby for a second to make sure your balance is okay with your hands tied like they are after leaning into him for the kiss. “I hope you enjoyed it because the next time I kiss you I won’t taste like it.” He brings your underwear back to your mouth. “You remember everything?” He’s asking if you remember how to get him to stop when you have neither your hands nor your mouth like this. You nod and he can see in your eyes that you do. “Good,” he nods. “Open.” You do and he stuffs your underwear inside of your mouth, thumb brushing over your bottom lip when he’s finished.

You track his every movement as he walks over to the desk and takes his blazer off, sets it over the back of the desk chair. He turns and looks at you, walks back so that he’s only six or so feet in front of you and undoes the button at one of his wrists, starts rolling his sleeve up just below his elbow, and doing the same with the second.

If you trusted yourself to get onto your knees safely with your hands tied like this you would, spit out your underwear and crawl over to him. But you don’t so all you can do is stand there and whine a few moans at him, try to plead with your eyes, for what you’re not entirely sure. 

Jack hums at you. “Bet you wish you hadn’t been handsy in the cab now, don’t you?”

You whimper at that, hand your shoulders a little. Jack smirks. 

He walks to the bathroom and grabs a clean towel, lays it over the edge of the bed. “Go sit.” You do as he asks, quivering in anticipation the whole time. Jack walks to the head of the bed and grabs a bunch of pillows, props them all right behind you. He wants you to lean back and watch, wants to be able to make eye contact with you. 

Jack walks back to the edge of the bed and stands in between your legs when they automatically part for them. “You gonna be good and watch?” 

You nod rapidly, not even sure what it is you’re going to be watching but knowing it’s going to feel almost too good and be almost too erotic to stand with how keyed up you are.

“Good,” Jack nods. He sinks to his knees then and you let out a muffled cry at the realization. His hands find your ankles and he rests the flat of your feet on his shoulders, pulls you down by the hips so that your ass will just slightly be hanging off the bed and tilting your hips up when he gets you to lay back. He pulls the pillows closer to you again. “Lay back.”

Jack nods at you, looks down at your cunt, now perfectly on display for him, swollen and glistening. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, smirks when it has the desired effect and has you clenching around nothing and whining. Jack kisses the insides of your thighs, sucks at your skin hard enough to burst blood vessels, nibbles at you. He turns his attention back to your pussy. “You smell so good.” He kisses just above your clit and you roll your hips, using his shoulders as leverage. He tilts his head and rests it on your thigh for a second as he looks up at you. It’s a bit of an unexpected move, not one you can recall him doing to you, though you frequently do it to him when you’re taking him in your mouth. Jack breathes in deep through his nose and groans from his chest. “Always smell so good for me. And you taste just as good.”

You whimper and clench around nothing just as Jack surges forward and licks you cunt to clit. You flinch at the feeling, hips bucking up. The vibration of Jack’s laugh meets your clit as he sucks it into his mouth, his hands finding your hips and pinning them down. 

He teases your clit with the tip of his tongue as he sucks on it, gently rolls it between his teeth before pulling away. His tongue circles around it and then drops down, pushes inside your pussy, fucks you a few times before it figure eights back up to your clit, flicks over it rapidly before he sucks it into his mouth again. 

You’re wailing for him because you can be with your underwear muffling every cry and moan his tongue rips for you. You’re teary from the pleasure already, your whole body on fire. You never want him to stop it feels so good. Your hips struggle against Jack’s hands, trying to buck up to no avail, hands straining against the tie because you want your hands in his hair so badly, want to grip at the sheets, something, anything. 

The intense eye contact you share makes Jack’s tongue feel even better, the pleasure in the creases of his eyes and pull of his eyebrows helping get you off. There’s something about knowing how much he loves this, knowing how much he loves eating you specifically out that drives you insane, has your toes curling against his shoulders. He’d told you once, you can hear it in your head now in that low gravelly voice of his, that he was always very whatever about it, didn’t love or hate it, but would do it of course, until he met you, and now he loves it, craves it, wants to be doing it all the time, finds himself missing it at random moments during his days. 

Jack repeats his movements, groans and grunts into you as he alternates sucking and licking and tongue fucking you in different patterns right to the edge. It doesn’t take long. You’re close, already. And if he had more patience and wasn’t as painfully hard as he is he would back off, drag it out longer, edge you a bit. 

He sucks at your clit until it pops out of his mouth as he pulls his head away. “I want you to focus and feel, Doll. And keep your eyes on mine.”

You moan something that sounds like you’re trying to say ‘I am’ through your underwear. 

“No.” His voice is sharp, cuts through your pleasure haze, eyes blazing. “Focus and feel it.” You’re not sure what it means but you nod, you’ll do anything for him right now. 

Jack holds your gaze for another moment before glancing down at your cunt and sucking at your clit. He looks back up at you as he releases your clit and flicks his tongue over it with precise strokes that are just the right pressure to pull tears from your eyes because of the intensity of it all. He raises his eyebrows slightly, a reminder to focus and feel it. 

You do, ground yourself in Jack’s eyes as you look at him and focus and feel. It hits you. You take in a gasped shuddery breath, try to say ‘oh my god’ around your underwear but it just comes out as a moan and a sob. 

The strokes of his tongue against you aren’t just precise. They’re spelling out his name. He starts over when he knows you’ve got it. J a c k A b b o t M i n e M y W i f e. You’re almost hyperventilating it feels so good, is so possessive it augments the feeling of his tongue three-fold. Once he’s finished the final e of wife he starts over with a J and one hand leaves a hip. 

You’re so focused on Jack and his eyes that you don’t even see it about to happen, though you theoretically would be able to. Two fingers slide inside you, easily with how wet you are. Jack finds that spongy spot inside of you makes a rapid come hither motion and you’re gone. 

It shoves you over the edge, launches you over it really. The groans you’re pulling from Jack just from coming on his fingers as his tongue laps at you make your orgasm crash into you even harder. You knew you were close and it was going to hit you soon but it still catches you off guard. It’s blinding, you try so hard to keep your eyes open and give Jack the eye contact you know he wants, is demanding of you. But something has to give, you have to take one sense back from him. 

You sob out moans around your underwear, enjoy the freedom you have to not hold back for fear of being too loud in a hotel. You try saying his name around it, aren’t even fully conscious of it because of how fucked out of your mind you are, how little control you have over your body and mind right now. 

He starts to ease off and slows just when he needs to, right before the point of painful overstimulation. Because that’s not what he wants tonight. He just wants you to feel good. He laps at your pussy a few times to clean you up a bit and get a few last tastes of you. 

You whimper when he pulls away and stands up and looks down at you. You got so wet and so messy that almost the entire bottom half of his face is slick and shining with you. He smirks at you, licks his two fingers clean before bending down and grabbing your bra from the floor and uses the cups to wipe his face off. “You are,” it’s a little panted, “so delicious. I could do that forever. Live between your legs like that.” His words make you whimper again. 

Jack helps you sit up so he can clear the pillows away then lay you back on the bed. He walks around the side and pulls the comforter down and then moves you so that your feet and head face the side of the bed, not the headboard and end. “God, Doll.” You can hear him messing with his shirt, unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor, undershirt joining it a second later. “I could’ve come from just that. Just fucked my fist once or twice and lost it just from the way you taste and how pretty you sound when you come even all muffled and how hard you gripped my fingers.”

You moan at that, wish that you could see him getting undressed and talking about you like that. The clinking of metal tells you he’s undoing his belt, the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor a second or so later. Both pants and boxer briefs if you had to guess. 

It’s quiet for a second until you strain and hear the softest hum of skin rubbing skin. Jack’s stroking himself slowly, eyes roaming your body intently. You whine. You want him back, want him inside you. Need him inside you. 

“Need something, Doll?” Jack asks as he climbs on the bed and up your body so that he hovers over you. You blink hard at him and try to say ‘you.’ Jack uses a hand to wipe away some of the fresh tears that slip from your eyes. “Me? Just like this? So you can see since you can’t touch or speak?” You nod quickly and repeatedly, drop your shoulders and widen your eyes to say please. “Well,” Jack starts as he pulls away from you and moves to the side of your legs, “that’s not the plan baby.”

He flips you over so that you’re on your stomach, grabs your hips and pulls them up so that you’re on your knees. Even with your hands tied together like they are you’re still able to push the front half of your body up on your elbows a little. “I just really love having you from behind sometimes, you know?” Jack moves to kneel between your legs, runs a hand through your cunt and uses it to slick his cock before sliding it between your lips and running it through you, head nudging at your clit. “Love looking at your ass.” His hands grip your cheeks, squeeze a bit roughly. 

You’ve come back down enough now that your mind is a little less hazy and you have the wherewithal to moan as you move your hips back and forth in time with his as he slides through you. Jack laughs, pinches one of your ass cheeks. “Impatient girl.” A hand presses into your lower back to still you and a second later you feel Jack’s other hand helping line himself up. “That’s okay, I’m a little impatient right now too.”

Jack slowly pushes into you, a flurry of curse words falling off his tongue as he does, a long moan from you until he bottoms out. 

“We’ve barely started planning the wedding and I’m already impatient for you to be my wife.” Jack pulls out of you, right to the tip, hand still pressing into your lower back. “Impatient for you to have my last name.”

It’s slow at first, teasing the both of you really, long, patient strokes out of you followed by easing himself back in. It’s slow until it isn’t, because Jack doesn’t slowly build up to a faster pace. He just pulls out of you slowly again but snaps his hips to get himself inside of you quickly, sets an unrelenting pace, hands finding your hips and pulling you back onto him so he can fuck you harder with every thrust. 

“You’re already mine,” Jack grunts. “So fucking mine, god!” You feel so good, are so wet and tight for him and he is so impossibly deep in you that it makes it harder for him to say what he wants, thought starts to go. “Everyone knows from the fucking rock on your finger.” He keeps fucking you at the same pace, doesn’t slow down for a second. It shakes the bed, hard, and it’s the reason he put you sideways, so the headboard didn’t keep slamming against the wall and earn you a noise complaint. “Everyone knows you belong to me. Knows you’re mine.”

You’re reduced to tears and moans by his words, struggle to keep yourself up as your whole body shakes.

“I love fucking you like this. Can get so deep, fuck you so hard.” His hands find just above your hips and he pushes down, hard, but not hard enough to hurt. It tilts your pelvis even further for him, lets him get even deeper. “Can fuck my pussy. So. Fucking. Deep.” Each word is punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips.

You sob at it at the same time Jack growls your name. He has never fucked you this deep before, has never been quite this feral. You have no idea what’s set him off like this but you’d like to know so you can keep it in your back pocket. It’s the last semi-coherent thought you have. 

His pace grows frenetic, strokes just as hard and fast but not in the same regular rhythm they had been as Jack gets further drunk off you. Jack pulls out right before he’s about to come and you sob at the loss. You don’t have much time to think about it or be sad though because he’s flipping you over and leaning over you and thrusting back inside of you in seconds. He’s still though. 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he murmurs through a pant as he undoes the knot of the tie and unwraps your hands. “Taken it all so beautifully.” His praise makes you shiver as he removes your underwear from your mouth, makes the fire that’s taken over your body burn even hotter.

His hands take yours carefully and he kisses at some of the indented marks left by the tie before rubbing each hand and wrist out for a second. He wipes at your mouth after, helps remove the saliva that’s dripped out from having the gag in. You’re panting hard, punctuated by hiccupped breaths from your tears. “So good for me.” His thumb brushes over your lip and then he leans down and kisses you, presses his body into yours and slowly raises his hips to pull himself out of you. 

Your hands run up his neck and tangle in his hair. The relief that feeling the unfairly silky strands against your hands brings you is almost comical. It’s just his hair. Just running your hands through his hair. The kiss isn’t as long as either of you would like since you’re both panting pretty hard, already out of breath. “I mean it you know.” He nods, pushing back in slowly, just like he had earlier. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” 

“I know.” Your voice is raw. “I can’t wait to be your wife.” 

“Good,” Jack murmurs, presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I have a promise to keep.”

He’s straightening up and throwing your legs over his shoulders before you can process his words and try to think about what promise he’s talking about. And then Jack’s right back to fucking you. Hard. With a kind of nearly reckless abandon that’s driven by sheer need. 

“Jack!” You tug his hair hard and it just spurs him on, makes his hips move faster somehow. “Oh fuck, I’m, it’s too, you’re too…” You shake your head a little, don’t even know what you’re trying to say, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?” Jack pants out as he leans into you further, rolls your hips up more so he can get even deeper. “What Doll? Please what?”

“Any, anything!” You’re lost in the sensation of him. He’s all you have, all that exists to you right now. “I, I.” A little moaned sob leaves you as you give up trying, let your eyes flutter closed. 

Jack laughs darkly. “You’re so fucking-” Jack has to stop to groan when you somehow find it in you to rock your hips in time with him. He doesn’t remember what he was going to say. “Mine,” he growls at your ear. “You’re fucking mine.” Jack slips his hands below your shoulders, rests on his elbows and curls his fingers in your hair. He uses it as leverage to push you down onto him so he can fuck you even harder. He’s got you nearly pressed in half, your hips tilted so far up he’s snapping his hips and fucking nearly straight down into you. “Look at me.” 

“Jack, I, I, I can’t,” you stutter through a moan. “Can’t, I can’t.”

“Yes the fuck you can,” he growls. “I know you fucking can, Doll.” You force your eyes open, Jack coming into focus as your tears clear enough to really see him. You’re glad he made you open them because fuck does he look good. Jack is feral and possessive in a way you haven’t seen before and is fucking you harder than he ever has before and is somehow even deeper than in your last position. A few sweaty curls stick to his forehead, eyes absolutely wild, blown so wide you’d struggle to tell what color his irises are if you didn’t already know. His flushed face and neck are strained, veins more prominent than usual. 

And Jack is looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists to him in this moment. Like he’s so attracted to you that he can’t get enough of you. Like fucking you is a privilege. Like he needs you so bad it hurts. Like he’ll never have enough of you. Like he knows you’re his in every sense of the word. Like he knows how good he’s fucking you, cocky and proud.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs at you, all gravel and rasp. Every thrust steals your breath as it sends another wave of pleasure through you. It’s dizzying, how he’s making you feel physically and emotionally. He always makes you feel so wanted but it’s even more heightened right now. He’s desperate for you. You’re the only thing on his mind. “Whose are you?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find the word, panting out small sobs until it mercifully runs through your mind. “Y-yours Jack,” you cry, “yours!”

“That’s fucking right,” he growls again, leans his head into your neck and sucks hard. “And.” it’s harder for him to get words out too. Jack’s just as pussy drunk as you are cock drunk. “What are you gonna fu-fucking be?”

Your hands slide from his hair down to the side of his neck and back. Jack loves the sharp pain it brings, somewhere some part of him knows he’ll have scratch marks and bruises tomorrow. You’re a panting, sweaty mess beneath him. “I…” You’re so far gone you hardly know how to begin to even try to think to find the word. 

He sucks at your neck one last time and pulls back up. You haven’t answered him. “Eyes back on me,” he orders. You comply, eyes opening to find his again. “What’re you-” Jack groans as you squeeze him even tighter. “Fucking christ you’re so good, feel so fuckin’ good!” Jack’s derailed for a moment by his pleasure, the pleasure you’re giving him. But the promise comes back to him. “What’re you gonna be?” 

You’re all whimpers and whines as you open and close your mouth as you look for the word. Jack chuckles darkly. He starts to mouth the word at you and it hits. 

“Wife,” you moan, at the pleasure you’re feeling and the thought. “Your wife!”

“Fuck!” Jack snaps his hips even harder when you say it. He loves hearing you say it. “That’s right. My wife. My fucking wife. My fucking wife with her perfect fucking pussy that’s mine. You are fucking mine.” Jack starts to babble as he gets closer and closer. “Anything else to say Doll?” he chokes out through heavy pants. 

You shake your head, let out a sob. You need this. Need him, need to come, need to feel him come. “Jack!” Your nails dig into his back and neck. “Jack!” you moan again. It’s the only word your brain can come up with unprompted. 

“Good,” he grunts, panting hard as he shifts and slides a hand between you, circles at your clit. He doesn’t even mean to pull it from you that fast but you’re so close and so far fucking gone that it’s just a few swipes of his fingers and you’re coming, the pleasure searing every nerve. 

You’ll look back and know that it’s easily the hardest you’ve ever come, easily. You’re rendered totally breathless, completely lost to the pleasure flooding you. Jack’s right behind you, his orgasm catching him just as off guard as yours caught you. You get so tight around him, sound so beautiful in the seconds before you come and force yourself to keep your eyes open and look at him, teary and fucked out and like you know you belong to him, that he’s slamming into you, pulling his hand from your clit and grinding himself against you as he tries to prolong his release and yours. 

There are no words for either of you, both of you rendered completely speechless by the intensity of the orgasms ripping through you. Jack gets his voice back first, an absolutely strangled groan of your name from somewhere deep in his chest. It has to be one of the most erotic sounds you’ve ever heard him make. Your voice comes back shortly after, as do your tears because you are still so overwhelmed with pleasure and feelings and Jack. You moan his name over and over. 

Jack collapses on you carefully, so that his head is at your chest and your torso isn’t completely covered by his making it harder to breathe. He’s shaking just as badly as you are, both of your bodies have no idea what to do with all the pleasure. You’re both panting hard, still a bit lost in your minds to it. You trade off moaned and groaned fucks and oh gods and I love yous and each other’s names as you come back down, occasional aftershocks hitting you both and making you whine. He kisses at your chest wherever his lips happen to reach. 

Jack’s forcing himself to get back quicker. He has the instinctive drive to take care of you. You need him. That was a lot to take and you were properly sobbing. “Okay,” he finally pants out minutes later. “You are so fucking good, fuck me. You feel so good.” He pushes himself up so that he can lean down and give you some soft kisses to your lips and also your face, the bruise he sucked into your neck, your collarbones, the top of your breasts. “My good girl. So perfect and beautiful for me.” He gives you a few more kisses and then he forces himself to roll off you. 

“Jack?” you whimper. You miss him already, miss his body weight helping calm your shakes and his warmth and his smell. You’d stopped sobbing and Jack doesn’t want you to get teary again.

“Shh,” he soothes you, “it’s okay, I’m right here.” Jack sits up and pulls you into his arms before grabbing the comforter and sliding you both up the bed so he can hold you as he reclines on the headboard. You curl into his chest once he’s settled and strong arms pull the comforter over the both of you before slipping under it and wrapping around you tightly, putting pressure on you to help with the shakes. His are almost gone now. “You did so fucking well,” he murmurs through softening pants. “I love you.” He kisses the top of your head. “You were so good, I’m so proud of you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur, absolutely fucking glowing in his arms at the praise, smiling to yourself as you nuzzle his chest. If his arms weren’t wrapped so tightly around your body you think you’d be floating away from how good you feel.

Jack shifts, grabs a bottle of water from the nightstand and opens it. “Water, yeah? Please.” 

You whine at his request, but this one is playful, you’re back with him. “Don’t wanna move.” 

Jack laughs softly. “You barely have to, just lift your head a little, okay?” You huff a little but do as he asks and he holds the water for you, tips it carefully so that it doesn’t flow too fast for you and pulls away when you start to pull back. “Thank you Doll.” 

“Thank you,” you hum at him in response, settle your head back on his chest. “You’re so fucking good too, you know. I hope you know. I’ve never been fucked the way you fuck me.”

“Always. And I do know. Believe me, you make sure I fucking know.” Jack takes a couple of sips of his own before recapping the bottle and setting it on the table again. He holds you tight again, kisses the top of your head every now and then. “You doing okay, Doll?” 

“So, so much more than okay.” You realize with how raw your voice is and how you’re still shaking a little it’s not very reassuring. “My body just,” you take in a deep breath, “doesn’t know what to do, but I feel good. I feel amazing. That was so fucking good Jack, you felt so fucking good, made me feel so fucking good. I feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have just gotten fucked like that.” You sigh so dreamily it makes you giggle. 

“Good,” he murmurs, chuckles just a little from your last sentence and your giggles. He knows you’re okay and relaxes. “We’ll take a bath in a few minutes, yeah? You can go to the bathroom, have some more water for me. Maybe have a snack. And then I’ll massage you out a little, once we’re out of the bath, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that.” You kiss his chest because he’s the sweetest. 

“I do. I always need to take care of you after regardless of how hard or soft it is. But more than that I always want to, okay?” Jack kisses the top of your head. 

“I know. And I want to take care of you too.” You run a hand through his sweat damp curls, scratch at his scalp. Your shaking has stopped now. 

Jack’s head leans into your hand on instinct because of how good it feels. “You always do,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you Doll.”

“I love you too Peter.” He can feel your smile against his chest. “Kinda sleepy.” 

Jack lets out a little laugh through his nose. “I’m sure you are. I am too. Let’s get you into the bathroom, yeah? You can pee while I start the bath and then once we’re in you can even doze on me a bit if you want okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod a little and take in a deep breath before moving with Jack so that you’re both properly sitting up. 

He stands up and holds his hands out for you. You’re so blissed out you don’t even realize he’d left his prosthetic on. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” You grab his hands as you push off the bed and wow can you feel the soreness and stiffness already. And that’s on top of how your legs feel weak and shaky right now from how thoroughly you’ve just been fucked. You let out the softest groan of pain.

Jack catches it immediately, wraps his arm around you to help support you. “You okay?” You look up at Jack and nod, give him a smile. Because you are. You fucking love it. Love this feeling and how he takes care of you and lets you take care of him in the bath. Jack helps you into the bathroom and to the toilet while he starts the bath. 

As always, he pours in a copious amount of bubble bath gel. You’d told him once that bubble baths were your favorite and so he always tries to make sure there’s something for you. Bubbles or a bath bomb, you’d mentioned liking those once. This is the upscale expensive brand bubble bath that the hotel provides. You both enjoy the way it smells. 

“Peter?” you call to him from the small separate area where the toilet is. 

“What’s up? You okay?” Jack’s already moving towards you. 

“Can we have bubbles?” You support yourself on the wall and stand and flush as he comes into view. “I forgot to ask.” 

Jack gets an arm around you to help support you and smiles, kissing and nipping at the tip of your nose just so he can hear your fucked-out, sleepy laugh again. “You’ve got bubbles already waiting for you, Doll. You never need to ask. I’ve got you.”

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

It’s the day of your third anniversary. 

You and Jack didn’t abide by the whole not seeing each other or sleeping in the same bed the night before your wedding thing. You stir awake curled against Jack’s chest, nuzzling into him and intertwining your legs further as you settle back against his chest, not ready to fully wake up and open your eyes to the world. Jack’s hands start to rub up and down your back and you feel the vibrations of his low chuckle in his chest more than you hear it. 

“I think it’s time to get up, sleepy girl,” Jack hums at you. 

You shake your head against him lazily. “Don’t wanna leave this. You.”

Your voice is so sleepy and adorable Jack can hardly stand it. “You know what today is?”

“Mm,” you hum at him, make no effort to pull yourself further awake. “Saturday.” Jack scoffs a laugh and rolls his eyes affectionately even though you can’t see. You smile against his chest as he shakes his head. “Am I wrong?” 

“No,” Jack concedes, gives your ass a little pinch. That makes you jolt in his arms and yelp, not because it hurt because it surprised you. “But that’s not what I was looking for.”

“I can’t believe you just pinched my ass to wake me up on the morning of our third anniversary and wedding!” You don’t move an inch and Jack gets the answers he was looking for.

“I did not!” Jack huffs with a laugh. “You were already awake when I pinched you!” 

“The pedantism I’m facing at this hour of the morning is unreal,” you sigh dramatically. 

“Oh that was hardly pedantic, and you know it.” 

“I know no such thing. But,” you pause for effect and to kiss at Jack’s collarbone, nibble at it just a little. The reaction from him is immediate, hips canting just slightly against yours. You’ve felt how hard he’s been this entire time. “I do know that if we stop debating it you’ll have enough time to fuck me one last time as your fiancée. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Jack’s already rolling you onto your back before you even finish the word fiancée. “Say it again.” His voice is lower than normal, more grit to it than usual even for mornings. The thought is too much. He knew it of course, you kind of half did last night just in case you wouldn’t have time this morning but still. 

“Fuck me one last time as your fiancée Jack.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at the salt and pepper curls that are just a centimeter or so longer than when you met as Jack starts kissing at your neck, just kisses, just uses his lips to tease you and grinds up against you. “Fuck me one last time with this last name.” Jack stills at that. Obviously he knew your last name was changing but until you said it he hadn’t thought about it in this context. It makes him a little more feral somehow. He lifts his head from your neck and gazes down at you, eyes blown wide and panting a little. You can tell from his gaze that he’s about to, that he’s already there and thinking of ways he can go hard without risking marking you or making you unable to walk or making you cry and risk swollen eyes. 

“Jack,” you moan his name softly as you roll your hips as he grinds against you. “Fuck me one last time before my last name is Abbot.”

And so he does. 

Jack stands in front of his dress blues where they hang waiting for him to put them on. It’s hard not to think about it, about the last time he saw himself wearing these. At your funeral. And yes, it was just a nightmare, but still. He can’t help the little pang that hits him. You could have died. He’s so aware of it. He could be standing in front of them trying to force himself to get in them so he could get to your funeral. You could have died.

But you didn’t. You’re alive and off in your own room getting your hair and makeup done, slipping into your wedding dress. The thought makes him smile. Jack is wearing his dress blues to marry you, to start a new chapter with you, not to say goodbye to you. 

“You good?” Robby walks in before Jack can fully pull himself out of it. 

“Yeah,” Jack nods. “I’m more than good. I’m marrying her today.” Robby doesn’t say anything, waits to see if Jack has more to say. “In that nightmare, of her funeral, I wore my dress blues. And Michael, she is so fucking good and imperfectly perfect and so herself and she loves me so fucking much, with this intensity that I’m not sure I deserve that it feels like it’s too good to be true somedays, like she’s too good. Like this life with her is the dream and that nightmare is reality and I’m going to wake up any second in your guest bedroom without her and be back in that nightmare.”

Robby nods slowly, takes in a breath as he thinks. “Well,” he draws the word out in contemplation. “I can promise you this isn’t a dream Jack. You’re not waking up from this to the nightmare that life without her would be for you.”

“I know. And I don’t want to seem sad, because I’m not, I’m so far away from sad.” Jack pauses, gets a little quieter. “She’s everything, Michael. She’s the only thing I’ll ever need. And I’m marrying her today and it’s so fucking cliché but it feels too good to be true because what could I have ever done in any lifetime, let alone this one, to deserve her?” 

“I don’t think you’re sad Jack. I think you’re in love and about to get married and with everything you guys have been through I can understand why it’d throw you for a second.” Robby walks in the room a little closer to Jack and leans his back against the wall the closet is on so he can see Jack’s face. “But I know for a fact that she’s getting ready right now thinking, for reasons I may never personally understand,” he lets out a small laugh which Jack preemptively rolls his eyes at, “the same about you. That you’re too good to be true. That life with you is a dream or too good to be true. And knowing her how I do now, I’d be willing to hazard a guess that she’s probably not sure what she did to deserve you either, not sure she deserves you.” 

Jack finally pulls his eyes from his dress blues to look over at Robby. He doesn’t say anything though, voice just a little too thick with emotion. 

“And to that I have two things to say. One,” he holds out a finger of his left hand horizontally in front of him and wraps his right hand around it, “I love you both dearly, I really do, but you are both fucking idiots for thinking you don’t deserve each other and your love. And two,” he moves his right hand off his one finger and holds out a second that his right hand then wraps back around, “you do deserve each other and each other’s love. Why is she worthy of your love, but you’re not worthy of hers?” It’s a rhetorical question. “Because Jack, you say she’s everything and I know she is, I believe you. I see the way you look at her and hear the way you talk about her. But you are everything to her in the same way, the same capacity. She looks at you the same way, talks about you the same way. The way that you love her and feel about her and the intensity of your love for her, is exactly the same as how she loves you and feels about you and the intensity of her love for you.” Robby shakes his head a little and takes in a big breath before letting it out. “And she deserves you and your love, right?” Jack nods. “Well Jack, you deserve her love. And I think that today, on the day of your wedding, would be a really good day to let yourself accept that. That you deserve her and her love and to be loved at the same intensity with which you love her.”

It’s quiet as the two look at each other. Robby’s words hit Jack hard. He’s right. Jack hates admitting it but he’s right. All he can do is nod at Robby who gives him a little smile in return. After a second Jack clears his throat. “God Michael, our therapist is really rubbing off on you. How often are you seeing him? You thinking about leaving me to go become a psychologist?”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. He knows by the use of his real name that Jack’s thanking him in the only way he can right now. “He’s got jokes.”

Jack laughs with him but grows a little more serious. “Are you going to give her the same spiel?

Robby nods. “I can go right now and do it, see her in her-”

“No! Do not!” Jack cuts him off, Robby smirking and laughing. “You can talk to her through the door. Or have a dance with her or something later.”

“Whatever you want, brother. Get dressed.” Robby squeezes Jack’s shoulder as he walks by to step out of the room.  

Jack lingers on his hanging dress blues for just another second before taking them down and getting into them. Robby walks back in once he has his shirt and pants on, jacket still hanging. “For you.” Robby hands him a decently sized small box. 

“Aw, Robby, you shouldn’t have,” Jack teases him. 

Robby snorts. “I didn’t.” 

Jack’s eyebrows raise at that and he opens the box. Inside is another box, a recognizable box and in that box is a watch. He finds a small note. So you can’t be late to our forever. ;) I love you more, Doll. Jack lets out a little laugh to himself, shakes his head. He sets the boxes on the dresser in front of him and takes the watch out, puts it on. It fits perfectly without needing any links removed or added and he’s sure it’s because you measured his wrist during the night or when he fell asleep on the couch at some point. 

“Ready?” Robby is holding Jack’s coat open for him. Jack nods and slips it on, stands in front of the mirror while he buttons it to check it all looks okay. He makes sure to slide two handkerchiefs into one of his pockets. “I have the rings.” Robby touches where his inside pocket is. There’s a knock on the door. “I think that’s my cue.” Robby walks over to Jack and they share a hug. “I’m so happy for you Jack. I’ll send her in, yeah?” Jack nods and Robby starts walking over to the door. 

Not far away you’re in your own room getting ready. Even though you and Jack had decided not to have a bridal party, your dress shopping party is there with you, getting hair and makeup done too as they prefer, just for the experience and fun. 

Once you’re done you sit around chatting as Heather, Dana, Mel and your friend get theirs done. You laugh at something Dana says as Mel walks up and sits next to you. “I have something for you.” She hands you a box that’s six or seven inches in length, not overly thick. 

You take the box from her and smile. “Thank you Mel, that’s so sweet of you.” 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not from me.” You furrow your brows at her and give her a confused smile. “I think you should open it.” 

You give her one last confused look and then unwrap the box. It has a note on top. Something new. Love you more, Peter. You shake your head as you smile to yourself. You remember him asking on the way to your bridal shower. You hadn’t thought much of it since then, but had a moment or two where you kind of wished you could. At least now you’ll have one of the four. You set the note aside and open the box. “Oh my god, Jack,” you whisper to yourself as you take in the diamond tennis bracelet. The metal matches that of your engagement and wedding rings, diamonds the perfect shape. 

“Wow,” Mel laughs a little stunned as she takes in the bracelet with you. “It’s beautiful. Very sparkly.” 

“I love sparkly,” you murmur to yourself as you nod slowly, still a little stunned. You’re not surprised by it in the sense that it’s a very Jack thing to do, you’re just still in disbelief sometimes that you found Jack, think you probably don’t deserve someone as good as him. He did this for you. Got this for you. Just because he wanted to. 

“Want me to put it on?” Mel asks.

You glance up at Mel at her words. It takes a moment for them to process and then you nod. “Please.” She takes it carefully from the box and you hold your wrist up for her. She brings it over and gets it clasped and you shake your wrist a little to get it to settle. “Fuck,” you breathe out. It’s even more stunning on. 

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Heather smirks as she comes closer to take a look, Dana and your friend following. You all spend too long looking at it before you settle back in. 

Your friend is the next one to come sit by you. She hands you a box that’s a little bigger than a necklace box. “This one is not from your almost husband. It’s from me.” She raises her eyebrows at you and gives you a little smirk as you start to open it. Inside is the garter she’d helped you pick out one day, only in a light shade of blue. “Something blue.” 

“Thank you,” you tell her with a slightly trembling voice. You know she hand dyed it for you, took that time out of her busy schedule to do that for you. “It’s even more beautiful in blue,” you laugh. Your laugh draws attention and you quickly hold it up. “Pretty blue garter,” the three who work with Jack collectively make noises of fake disgust and gagging, “mhm, yep, that’s what I thought.” You all share a laugh. 

You smile at Heather when she comes to sit by you. “Old or borrowed?” You ask with a smirk and raised brows. 

She’s smiling as she offers you what is a necklace box. “I’m not sure if it really counts as old,” she says as you open it, “so I have a backup just in case.” You raise your brows at her as you take the lid off. Inside is a larger cameo locket with a humming bird on it. It’s beautiful in its simplicity. “Open it. Also I didn’t envision you wearing it, I thought maybe you could wrap the chain around your bouquet, have the locket in the front or back depending on what you think.” 

You carefully take it out of the box and open it. Inside is a locket sized photo of you and Jack. “Oh my god,” you whisper. “That’s the first photo Jack and I ever took together.” You look up at Heather glassy eyed. “How?”

“Remember when we went to that cocktail bar a month or so ago and I happened to bring up photos in conversation and steered it towards first photos of all the couples. You showed me your guys’ while Dana was showing you the one of her and her husband she’d taken a picture of on her phone. I was able to air drop it to myself before giving your phone back. I took a little advantage of you being a little tipsy.” She shrugs, but you both laugh. You’re back to looking at the photo of you and Jack, running your finger down the edge of the locket. “I found the locket itself at an antique store. Hummingbirds are a symbol of resilience because of how resilient they are. And with everything that you guys have already survived together, resilience felt right for the two of you.” 

“Heather,” you breathe shakily, as you look back to her, lips pressed in a line but pulled up in a smile that says you’re trying not to cry. “This is incredible. Thank you.”

“That’s so fuckin sweet,” Dana dabs at her eyes. It’s then you realize her, Mel and your friend have gotten close. You pass the locket around so they can all see the photo. “You’re making us all look bad Heather!”

Heather laughs and shrugs. “Idea just came to me.” You smile at her again and reach out and squeeze her hand, nodding at her in thanks again. 

“Well, I suppose cat’s outta the bag that I’m borrowed.” Dana walks over to her purse and grabs a small ring box from it and hands it to you. You open it to reveal a beautiful art deco style ring inlaid with diamonds. “I know it’s a very particular style, but that ring has been worn by every Evans woman who has gotten married for the last hundred and two years. Not a single divorce.” 

“Oh Dana, it’s beautiful.” You look up at her. “But I’m not an Evans and I wouldn’t want to risk messing up it’s ma-” 

“No.” Dana cuts you off with a ‘please’ look. “None of that bullshit. You are an Evans. So is Jack. Even if not in name.” You look back down at the ring and then up at her, round eyes and eyebrows slightly furrowed, a silent ‘really?’ “I brought ring sizers just in case it doesn’t fit on a finger on your right hand. We can make it work.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper when she gets closer, swallowing thickly. “It means more than you know.” Dana doesn’t say anything back, just smiles as she helps you try on the ring. It fits perfectly on your right ring finger, your engagement ring sitting above it for now until after the ceremony. Once you have the ring on and the locket around your bouquet, you set your garter on the bed to put on before your dress. “There we go. Something old something new something borrowed something blue. He made it happen. That man.” You laugh a little to yourself as do the others. 

“So,” Mel clears her throat, “the rhyme actually ends with ‘and a sixpence in her shoe.’ I wasn’t really sure if you’d want to do that or if someone else would get one, so I got one just in case. It goes in the left shoe” Mel holds it up. “I brought some quick set epoxy if you wanted to glue it to the bottom of your shoe if it’s heeled and has a spot that won’t hit the ground, or it has a small hole and can become like a charm or even get sewn onto the shoe. Or you can put it somewhere else. If you want.” She smiles at you. “But totally cool if you don’t.” 

“No no, we have to have the full rhyme!” You cock your head at her and smile. “It’s perfect Mel. Thank you so much.” You walk over and grab your shoes. “Help me get it on my left shoe somewhere?” Mel nods and the two of you step over to the desk to survey your options and decide how best to do it while everyone else finishes up. “Thank you Mel. I would have been so annoyed if I found out we didn’t do the entire thing after,” you laugh. 

“I thought you might be,” she laughs with you. “I’m glad it worked out.” By the time you and Mel turn back to the group everyone is finished with hair and makeup.

“All right, we’ll head out and let you get dressed.” Heather gives you a knowing smile and walks over to hug you tight, followed by Mel and your friend, each of them congratulating you and saying how happy they are for you and Jack before walking out.

The door closes and it’s just you and Dana now. She was the only one who went to any of your fittings with you, so she’s the only one to see you in the dress with it fitted properly. It doesn’t take long to get you in it, all things considered, and your accessories don’t take too long either. 

Dana steps back to survey you for a few seconds before you turn to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress still makes you feel like it did when you first bought it. It makes you feel good, makes you feel how Jack makes you feel when he looks at you. Special and beautiful. And this is it. You’re in your dress for real this time. All of your accessories on, hair and makeup done, shoes on. You’re going to go walk down the aisle to Jack in not more than ten minutes.   

“You look beautiful, kid.” Dana’s eyes are a little glassy as you look at each other through the mirror. “I’m really happy for you guys. You are so so good for him. I’ve never seen him so happy, and I’ve known him a long time.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving her a tight smile and tilting your head back a little trying to stop any tears from forming. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to cry yet.” 

Dana laughs. “It’s okay. If you’re all good I’m going to head to my seat.”

You nod. “Thank you. I mean it Dana. We’re lucky to have you.” She gives you one of her smiles and nods, goes to turn. “You should go see Jack. Before you sit down.” Dana’s eyebrows furrow as she turns back to look at you. “Promise me you’ll go.” Her eyes narrow in suspicion a little but she nods and walks out. 

She knocks when she reaches Jack’s room. “There you are.” Robby smiles at her as he opens the door. “You look very lovely.”

Dana gives him a suspicious look. “Thanks. You don’t clean up top bad yourself Cap. Is there a reason I’m here?”

Robby nods and she walks in the room. “He’ll explain. I’ll see you out there.” He gives her a last smile before exiting the room, the door closing behind him. 

“Jack?” Dana calls out as she moves further in the room. He smiles at her as he walks out from the bathroom, fully dressed and ready. “Wow,” Dana lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight?” She walks over to him and gives him a hug, a kiss on the cheek. 

“You look pretty damn good yourself,” Jack tells her.

She waves him off. “You look very handsome. She’s gonna cry. And you’re definitely gonna cry when you see her.” She rubs in that she’s seen you just a little, earns the smallest eye roll from Jack. “You need something? Your bride got all mysterious on me, ‘promise me you’ll go see Jack’ and then Robby answers the door grinning like an idiot and offering no explanations.”

Jack shrugs at her, smiling like he knows something she doesn’t and that’s going to make her react. “I need someone to walk me down the aisle.” 

Dana’s head lolls forward a little, eyebrows raising as she stares at Jack. “I thought you guys weren’t doing that.”

Jack shakes his head. “She decided not to have anyone walk her down the aisle. I never decided I wouldn’t have anyone.” Dana’s still looking at him in disbelief. “I want someone to. And who better to do so than the second most important woman in my life?” Dana’s eyes get watery and she cocks her head at Jack, silent because she’ll cry if she tries to speak. “You know I mean that and that it’s true,” Jack tells her softly. 

Dana nods at him. “Jack, I…” She fans at her face and grabs a tissue from the nearby box, dabs at her eyes. “You’re pretty important to me too, you know that?” She whispers as she wraps him in another hug. He laughs softly and nods. “I’m so happy for you Jack. For both of you. She’s everything you’ve ever deserved. I’m so glad you found your one.” Dana sniffles and finishes wiping at her eyes. “I’d be very proud to walk you down the aisle.” 

Jack offers Dana his arm and she takes it, the two of them leaving the room and heading to the ceremony space. Robby is waiting for them in the staging space that’s hidden off to the side of the top of the aisle. The three share a look and Robby cues who he needs to so that the music starts. 

Robby walks down first, takes his place at the top of the altar facing the audience, padfolio with his notes in hand. The music changes slightly and Dana and Jack start walking down the aisle. The change in the music is also your cue to wait ten seconds or so and then go to the staging area yourself and wait for your music to hit. 

There are murmurs of approval and appreciation and hums of aw as Dana and Jack walk down the aisle. The only people who have seen Jack in his dress blues before are those who were in his unit. For everyone else, your friends, all of the Pitt family, it’s the first time. He looks good in them, of that there is no question. 

When they hit the end of the aisle Dana rests her cheek against Jack’s and gives him a little cheek kiss as they hug again. “I’m so proud of you Jack. And so, so happy for you,” she whispers to him. “You deserve this, yeah. The both of you do.” 

“Thank you, Dana.” Jack rubs her back a little. “You have no idea how much we appreciate you and everything you’ve done for us. And for me over the years.” 

She nods at him as she pulls away and takes her seat right on the aisle of one side of the front row. Jack walks up the altar and shares a handshake and quick hug with Robby before he settles just in front of him, turning to face the top of the aisle. 

Jack looks around at everyone who came. The ceremony space is completely full. It’s small, but big enough, an intimate ceremony of just you and your closest friends and family. Neither of you wanted something huge. All of Jack’s unit minus one are there with their significant others if they have one, your friend and a few of your closest work friends and what feels like most of the Pitt and their significant others where applicable, plus Dana’s kids, Langdon’s kids, Harrison, Becca and Jake. 

In his mind he notes that it feels like entire damn department is here and he can’t help but wonder who the fuck is staffing it right now. Jack is actually able to smile to himself at the thought despite the small pang. He thought the same exact thing to himself in that nightmare. But this time while it still doesn’t really matter and he doesn’t really care because he’s here with you getting married, he will be going back to that hospital. He lets himself wonder about it more, wonder if Robby somehow pulled off getting nearly an entire moonlighter crew so everyone could be here. 

Jack can’t believe it’s finally time, that he finally gets to see you in your wedding dress and marry you. His heart races and he breathes a little faster and harder in anticipation. He’s sure that if he didn’t have one hand clasping the back of the other and hanging down in front of him they’d be shaking.  

Your photographers get into position so that photos can be captured of both you and Jack seeing each other for the first time. They stay as inconspicuous and as out of the way as possible. 

In the staging area at the top of the aisle your heart is racing just as fast as Jack’s if not a little faster because you still have to walk down the aisle, by yourself, with all eyes on you and not trip or fall or otherwise stumble. And you can’t help the thought of what if he hates my dress from running around your brain. Your bouquet shakes as you hold it with one hand, smooth out your dress with the other as you wait for the music. 

You force yourself to take a couple of deep breaths and pull it together. You know really the anxiety is more eagerness than anything. You just want to be married already, want to be kissing Jack and in his arms and crying about how much you love him. You can’t believe the day is finally here. You remember you get to see him in his dress blues for the first time now and it helps you focus and smile.

The music you’ve chosen to walk down the aisle to starts and you hear Robby ask everyone to stand. You hold your bouquet with both hands low in front of you and take in one last deep breath before you round the corner and hit the top of the aisle. 

Seeing each other for the first time is quickly etched into your memories. Neither of you will ever forget the moment, forget the way you struggled to breathe for a second or how everything and everyone else seemed to fade away. 

Jack’s breath catches in his throat when he sees you, a beaming smile pulling on his face and tears hitting him immediately. “Oh my god,” he breathes out quietly for only Robby to hear as he shakes his head at you a little in disbelief, his first tears of the ceremony starting to stream down his face. 

While everyone is looking at you Jack brings a hand up to his heart and lays it flat over it for a second before closing it into a fist and nodding at you a little. He grabs one of the handkerchiefs from his pocket to wipe at his tears as Robby squeezes his shoulder silently. 

Jack tried to imagine your dress, what it would look like, what you would look like in it and he never got anywhere close. You look perfect in it, more beautiful and stunning than Jack could have ever hoped to imagine. Your dress fits you perfectly, both in fit and in personality. It matches you, your personality and energy, complements your natural beauty without overtaking you. The dress, while gorgeous, isn’t the focus. The focus is you, just as it should be, he thinks. 

You’re a vision as you walk towards him, radiant and ethereal and breathtaking. And somehow you’re his. His girl, his woman. You’re about to be his wife and Jack doesn’t know how he got so fucking lucky. He sniffles as more tears fall that he was to wipe away. 

You have to remind yourself to breathe as you start walking, because Jack steals all the air from you as soon as you look at him. Your eyes glance at the path in front of you and then back to him because you just can’t look anywhere else. You suddenly don’t care if you trip or stumble or fall because you weren’t looking where you were walking, taking in Jack, looking at him and returning his gaze is worth the risk. You return his beaming smile, your eyes tearing up just as his do. 

He’s so handsome. He always is but him in his dress blues on your wedding day is a different type of handsome. He almost looks regal in a sense with how perfectly they fit him and how sharply pressed they are, highlighting his chiseled features. He’s breathtaking, truly. And somehow he’s yours. Your man, your Jack. He’s about to be your husband. The thought makes you laugh to yourself a little as your first tears of the ceremony spill over and onto your cheeks. 

Jack looks at you like you’re the last sight he ever needs to see to die a happy man as you walk towards him, like you’re the only thing that exists in the world right now and the most precious and beautiful thing that exists. Because you are. And you look at him the exact same way, like you’re walking towards your future and the only thing that matters. Because he is. 

The two of you beam at each other even harder as you walk closer and closer to him. Your eyes roam each other more the closer you get, just for a few seconds to take in more details before you look back into the other’s eyes. 

As you reach the end of the aisle you slip your bouquet to Dana and take the hand Jack offers you. “Please be seated.” Robby nods at the audience. 

“Worth the wait I hope?” you whisper to Jack as you stand across from him and face him, voice trembling and more tears sliding down your face.

“You’re,” Jack shakes his head, struggling to come up with any words that could even begin to describe how stunning you look right now. He has to settle for simple. “You’re beautiful, Doll.” You know what he means, know that beautiful means what it always does but that there’s an extra indescribable edge to it right now. You know because it’s how you feel about him. “Gorgeous. There aren’t words,” he whispers to you. 

“That’s how I feel, there aren’t words for you either.” The smile you give him is a little trembly as a fresh wave of overwhelming love hits you. “You’re so handsome, Jack. Unfairly so.” And just like beautiful, handsome also has that edge that Jack recognizes. 

He laughs a little and then Jack can’t help himself. He captures your chin with his thumb and index finger and leans in, steals a kiss from you. It’s your last kiss before you’re married.

“You skipped a couple of steps there, brother,” Robby teases Jack as the two of you settle back in your respective positions facing each other, eliciting a soft laugh from the audience. 

You hold one of Jack’s hands and use the other to wipe at the tears on your face, a mix of yours and Jack’s now. Jack drops your hand for a moment to switch his handkerchief to his other hand so he can reach into his pocket and pull out the second handkerchief. 

It makes you laugh when you take it from him, more tears slip down your face. “Always so prepared.”

“I try.” He smiles at you and wipes away more of his own tears as you do the same before you grab each other’s hands again, one pair of hands less held than the other as you both hang onto handkerchiefs. 

You both know there’s going to be a lot of tears during this ceremony for the two of you and that getting your vows out is going to be difficult. Everyone knows it. Because it’s not just that this is your wedding and you’re so in love and finally getting married. It’s because it almost didn’t happen. Because you’re both so acutely aware of how precious time and your love is. Because Jack was almost planning your funeral and not helping you plan your wedding.  

“Are we all ready now?” Robby smiles, asking not just you and Jack but also your guests. It pulls laughs, and excited calls of yes and it’s about time and finally. It’s perfect, it’s the atmosphere you and Jack wanted. You didn’t want stuffy or overly formal. You wanted it to reflect the two of you and Robby’s question has set the perfect tone. 

“More than,” you laugh softly, squeezing Jack’s hands. 

“More than,” Jack agrees, beaming at you and laughing a little as he returns your squeeze. 

“Great! Well, welcome everybody to what I know will be an emotional but incredibly joyous and fun wedding. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Robby, or Michael, when Jack is mad at me, and I’m their favorite third wheel.” Robby gives a self-satisfied smile as he says it, and you, Jack and the audience all laugh. It’s true. 

“Their love story has not been the easiest. Before they were even engaged they faced challenges most couples, married or otherwise, never have to. And hopefully they’ll never have to again. I also want to say quickly that I got their permission to talk about what happened. I'm not just up here bringing up one of the most traumatic and difficult times of both of their lives individually and their life as a couple.” There’s more laughter from everyone at that. 

As much as you and Jack truly are paying attention to what Robby says, your eyes aren’t coming off one another. For the most part it’s all eye contact, just how Jack loves, but sometimes you both let your eyes wander to take in the other more, you eyes dragging down Jack to appreciate him in his dress blues again and his roaming you to take in you in your dress and every detail of it. 

“God knows they’ve had too much practice but something that stands out about their love to me is their ability to weather their worst days together. It’s one thing to stand next to each other and survive on the best days, when things are great and easy and another to stand next to each other and survive on the worst days, when things truly probably couldn’t get any worse and qualify as one of the worst days of their lives. And I truly mean weathering their worst days together because they’re always there for each other.” Robby takes a moment to let the words linger and glances down at his notes. 

“People say that relationships and love aren’t always 50-50. That sometimes one person is at 10% and so, in the best relationships, the other is at 90%. And that’s them.” He nods as he says it and there’s a few murmurs of agreement from the audience.

“They have this constant give and take, this way of adapting for the other. And if one of them is at 10% and the other falls even lower, to 5%, they’re both able to set their struggle aside for the moment and immediately be at 95% for the other. They never let the other be alone in their struggles or in their joy.” Robby pauses for a second, has to clear his throat, the emotion clearly starting to get to him. “It’s quite incredible to watch.”

Robby shifts his attention to address you and Jack directly. “I am so incredibly happy for the both of you. I have never met two individuals who deserve this happiness and love and life together more. I love you both very much,” his voice trembles a little as he says it, “and I wish you nothing but a lifetime of adventure, laughter, peace, joy and love.” 

You both look up at Robby as he says it. His eyes are glassy, and wet with unshed tears that are threatening to spill over. Jack nods at him, the two sharing a knowing smile. When Robby’s attention shifts to you, you mouth ‘we love you too’ and a few of those unshed tears slip down his cheeks.  

“I’m going to share two moments, my favorite moment that I’ve had with each of you that’s really kind of about the other one of you and then I’ll move this along, I promise.” Robby sniffles, wipes quickly at his eyes and takes a deep breath. You and Jack look back at each other and raise your eyebrows as you both grin in anticipation. You both correctly know you’re about to hear a story you’ve never heard before.

“I’ll start with you Jack. Years ago now, there was a really bad day at work and you and I were walking out into the darkness. You said something about preferring working nights and I asked if you were sick of working them yet and you said that your therapist thought you found comfort in the darkness.” You laugh softly at that, as does the audience. It sounds like Jack. 

“So fast forward two years and we’re walking out of the Pitt together one day as you’re getting off, you know actually it must have been three years and four or five days ago because it was a couple of days before your first anniversary. I asked you if you could cover a shift, fully expecting a yes. I was asking but I was so positive you’d say yes because you’re Jack and you always said yes to working. But you said no.” Robby pulls his mouth together in a grimace and nods at the audience to pull a few laughs. 

“No because it was your first anniversary together. And then,” Robby laughs to himself a little and cocks his head for a second, “like you’re just saying the sky is blue and not about to rock my entire world you said, ‘also, I’m switching to days, it’s better for us.’ I was honestly impressed with myself that I processed that news fast enough to call out a question to you before you were too far away to hear. I yelled at you, ‘I thought you found comfort in the darkness?’ and you turned around and looked at your phone which was definitely a photo of you by that point and smiled as you yelled back ‘guess I find it somewhere else now.’” A soft chorus of ‘aww’ rings through the audience. 

You tilt your head at Jack, chin trembling as your lips press together in a tight smile as you try and keep it together, silently asking him ‘really’ as your eyebrows draw together. Jack’s smile softens, eyes looking at you fondly, almost nostalgically and he squeezes your hands. He gives you a few small nods and your tears return.

“And I knew as I walked back into the Pitt, yes to go straight to Dana to tell her,” everyone laughs loudly at that, including you, Jack and Robby, “that even if you hadn’t told me yet, you were already planning a proposal. Sure enough, a couple of days later you told me you were going to propose, not sure when or how or where yet, but she’s it. She’s the one. ‘She’s my forever,’ I believe are the exact words.”

“Oh Jack,” you whisper just loud enough for him and him alone to hear, more tears falling. You wish that you could hug and kiss him and thank him for making you feel so loved all the time. Because he does and in the moment, hearing that story it’s overwhelming. You’re not sure how you’ll survive his vows. Your hands squeeze his before you drop one and use the handkerchief he gave you to dab at your eyes again and blot up the tears that have already wet your face. Jack remembers that conversation well, remembers how that smile at the end that Robby mentioned lasted his entire walk home. And somehow, he realizes, he loves you even more in this moment than he did then. 

Robby glances at you with a little conspiratorial smile. “And you. Just under two years ago, you and I were sitting in your hospital room talking. It was truly just you and I because Jack was showering. You’d been out of your coma for just shy of two days so we’d really known each other and had the opportunity to talk for five-ish days or so I wanna say. So we’re talking and you ask me to go to the grocery store for you. I said ‘sure of course, just make me a list.’” Robby nods a little as he remembers while he speaks.

“I give you my little notepad and a pen and it took you maybe five minutes to write down this fairly long grocery list. I remember thinking it was great that you had all these things you wanted and had an appetite and us having a battle about me taking your card to pay for things but anyway I take the list and after my shift I go, don’t think much of it.” He shrugs, glances at you and then the audience. You already know what’s coming and you know that you never told Jack.  

“I get to the store and start shopping and realize two things. First, that the list isn’t quite as long as I initially thought because you’d written brand names and specific flavors for things. And second,” he pauses to laugh a little, “every single thing on that list was one of Jack’s favorite things. Every single thing, I swear to god.”

Robby’s nodding at Jack, not that Jack sees it. He’s far too focused on you, asking you a ‘really’ with his eyes the same way you did, tears threatening to wet his face and a wobbly smile. And just like him you give him a few nods, squeeze his hands. 

“So I call you and you answer and said ‘hey if you’re looking for Jack he’s down getting the dinner delivery he ordered so he might not be able to answer.’ And I’m like ‘no I’m looking for you. I’m at the store and this list is all for Jack. Is there anything you want?’ You tell me ‘No, I put what matters and what we need on it.’” Robby glances at you, smiles at the way you’re looking at Jack.   

“I press you, ‘okay but are you sure?’ You said ‘Robby, please. He’s not eating enough here and it’s not healthy for him. He can’t eat big meals right now, he just picks at everything and you and I both know him and know he’s a snacker, a grazer. But he doesn’t have any snacks here. So he’s not really eating. Please. The list is what we need. What I need.’” 

Jack’s hands squeeze yours again, harder this time as ‘what I need’ echoes in his mind and tears slide down his face. You were focused on him during that time, you were watching him and taking care of him without him knowing it. It’s so you and he could almost drown in it, your love for him. “Doll,” it’s whispered, barely audible to you with how his voice cracks over it, hand dropping yours to wipe away his tears. Your heart aches in the moment from how much you love him. Like Jack you remember this story fairly well despite your health status at the time because it was the first super personal conversation you had with Robby. You can remember the genuine anxiety you had at the time because Jack wasn’t eating enough and it scared you. And also like Jack, somehow, you realize, you love him even more in this moment than you did then. 

“We hung up and it really sank in as I walked around shopping. You were just shot, had multiple major surgeries, a skull fracture, you had been out of a coma for less than 48 hours and you’re worried about Jack.” Robby shakes his head and lets out a small incredulous laugh. “You’re noticing Jack not eating enough and that he’s not eating big meals and remembering that he’s a snacker. You’re still pretty heavily medicated and you’re pulling out brand names and flavors of Jack’s favorite things. That’s when I knew if he asked you’d say yes and, selfishly in a way, it’s when I was convinced that you were the one for him and when I knew I wanted him to ask you.” All three of you, and probably close to the whole damn audience, have to take a second to clean up your tears.

“And so here we are today. At your wedding. You were two strangers in a bookstore. There was nothing between you. But from that nothing you slowly forged what has to be the most beautiful and profound love I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.” Robby’s voice wobbles and he pauses for a second, lets out a breath. 

“These two have decided to write their own vows, so get your tissues ready, I’m sure.” After deciding on personal vows you and Jack had decided to end them with five promises to each other. “Jack, we’ll start with you.”

Jack takes in a deep breath and drops one of your hands so that he can grab his vows from his pocket. 

He starts with your name, squeezing your hand that he’s still holding. “I’m going to start with some honesty,” he gives you a little smile. “I struggled to write these. Not because I couldn’t think of what to say but because there’s too much to say, there’s too much I want to tell you and promise you, too much you deserve to hear. And I could stand here and talk for hours and say all the words and it would never be enough to tell you how much I love you, how deep my love for you runs or how embedded in my soul you, and my love for you and your love for me is.” You start to cry because you know how much he means it and because you get it, feel the exact same way. 

“Doll, you are easily the biggest overthinker I know,” he laughs a little as he says it, smiling at you while you and the audience also laugh. He glances down at his vows before looking into your eyes again. He did his best to memorize them so that he can look you in your eyes as he speaks his vows to you. “And I say that with all the love in the world, I truly do, because I know it means that you have thought of every single reason not to love me or marry me and yet here you are. Loving me. Marrying me. You jumped head first and with your eyes wide open into loving me and you’ll never know what it means to me to have that kind of pure acceptance,” Jack’s voice trembles, “and to know that you’ve seen every bad part of me, every flaw and imperfection and have overthought it all and that you,” he has to stop as his voice breaks and he sucks in a shuddery breath to stifle the smallest sob. He just barely clears his throat, like he knows that he’s going to have to choke out his next line and pause after it regardless of how much he tries to prepare now. “And that you accept it all and choose to love me despite all my flaws and imperfections.” It almost sounds whispered with how raw and hoarse his voice is as he says it, but everyone hears it. Jack sniffles, drops your hand and takes a few seconds to wipe the tears from his face and collect himself before taking your hand again and continuing.

“You truly have no idea just how much you save me every day, heal a little piece of me with every smile and kiss and ‘Peter.’ You’re my comfort,” he tilts his head and gives you a lopsided grin that meets his eyes hard as he echoes what he told Robby two years ago, this time straight to you with tears flowing down both of your cheeks, “my salvation and my strength. You’re my home and my world. I told you once that you’re my best everything and I mean it. You are my best everything. You are the greatest and best part of me. I love you more than I know what to do with or how to show you.” You dab at your eyes almost continuously with your free hand, Jack’s words searing themselves into your brain and heart, especially with how he’s looking straight into your soul through your eyes as he talks to you. 

“And of all the things I might accomplish in this life,” Jack sniffles and clears his throat so his voice is a little stronger again, “the only thing I care to be remembered for is being your husband and being lucky enough to love you and be loved by you.” You cover your mouth with your handkerchief at that and stifle your own small sob while you squeeze Jack’s hand, hoping he understands that you’re saying the same is true for you. He knows. He always knows. 

Jack glances down at his vows again and straight back up to you. “So I promise to be honest, to be loyal and faithful and always have your back as your biggest supporter and your greatest source of encouragement. I promise I will always be here for you, that I will always be your refuge. I promise to always fight for you and for us. I promise to never take you or your love for granted and to always remember just how lucky I am to be able to call you mine.” He pauses to smile at you, tilt his head and squeeze your hand to emphasize the last one before he says it. “And I promise to love you with all of me through anything and everything life might throw our way.” 

It’s hard to resist the urge you have to hug him and kiss him and hold him close for five minutes straight while you both just cry tears of love and happiness into each other. Because you want to. You’ve never felt more loved or moved in your life. It’s almost difficult to comprehend in a way, that those words were just spoken by the love of your life to you. That someone feels that way about you and loves you this much. You’re not sure you deserve it but you take it in as best you can while he puts his vows away and wipes at his face. And Jack feels it too, that urge to hug you and kiss you and try to show you how much he loves you because he knows his words, while clearly impactful, fell far short of expressing his love for you. Like he said, he could never truly tell you what you mean to him and how much he loves you because the words don’t exist.

It’s quiet once Jack finishes, only sniffles from everyone present filling the air for a moment. Robby reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, your vows that you’d given him to hold onto for you this morning. “And now you,” he says softly, giving you a supportive nod as the two of you share a look while you take your vows from him. 

“Oh man, this feels so unfair, I can barely see through the tears.” You sniffle a soft laugh the audience joins you in, handkerchief at your eyes trying to soak up all the tears. You take in a deep breath before opening your folded vows and looking back up into Jack’s eyes. “Jack,” you start, “I love you.” You let out a small laugh because it’s such a simple way to open, glance down at your vows. Like Jack you’d memorized them to the best of your ability so you can look him in the eyes.  

“I swear this next part is written down,” you wave your vows at him and then the audience. “Writing these was much harder than I thought it was going to be,” you tilt your head and give him a look, “not because I couldn’t think of anything to say to you but because what do you tell the person that’s everything to you? I couldn’t figure out how to distill how I feel about you and how much I love you into words, and I still haven’t because nothing I say will ever be enough to even scratch the surface of how much I love you and what you mean to me.” Your voice catches thick in your throat as you shake your head a little at him while you speak, eyes narrowing slightly to emphasize your words.

“The thing about you Peter, is that you see me, all of me, to an extent I didn’t think was possible. You always use that x-ray vision they pulled you aside to teach you in your last year of med school,” you laugh a little as you say it and Jack lets out a short but proper laugh at your words because they’re unexpected and of course you would remember that, “to see right through me and know how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. There is nothing that makes me feel more loved than when you take a single look at me and know exactly what I need without me speaking a single word. And when we’re together that’s an hourly occurrence.” You blot at your eyes again quickly and glance at your vows before finding Jack’s eyes again and continuing.

“You take what you see and you use it. Use it to love me and take care of me and heal me, even if you don’t consciously realize it. I’ve come to realize that you know me better than myself because you see me more than I see myself. And you always, without fail, see the best in me even when I show you the worst of me.” You take in a deep, shuddery breath as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “I am quite sure that has to be love in one of its simplest and purest forms. And that’s how you love me. I couldn’t be luckier.” Your voice is so thick and heavy with your tears you worry that you’re getting to be unintelligible but Jack’s reaction, the fast run of big tears and his trembling lip, and the increase in sniffles you hear from the audience make it clear everyone heard. 

Your gaze intensifies, eyes boring into Jack’s. “You’re my whole world and my entire heart. My rock and my constant. My biggest supporter and my protector. You’re everything. You are my everything and everything to me, Jack.” Your voice breaks on his name but you don’t clear your throat. You let it be raw and higher pitched as you finish. “Please never forget that.” Jack shakes his head slightly and squeezes your hand to tell you that he won’t and lets out the quietest choked sob, handkerchief damp with his tears just like yours with yours. His heart aches now with your love for him.

You clear your throat, take another shuddery deep breath and collect yourself. “I promise to always be your best student in medicine and otherwise, to never stop learning about you or how best to love you. I promise to never stop trying, to never give up on you or on us. I promise you my faithfulness, my honesty and my loyalty and my unwavering support in everything and to always be your safe space where you never have to hide. I promise to love you all the time, especially in the moments you’re struggling to love yourself. And I promise to never stop falling more in love with you.” 

Again, Jack fights the urge to hug and kiss and be close to you that you both fought after he made his vows to you. He’s never felt more loved, never felt so good. He struggles to comprehend it too, that someone loves him as much as you do, needs him the way you do. But you do and he knows it and he beams at you as you both wipe your tears. He takes your vows from you and folds them, slips them in his pocket next to his. You squeeze each other’s hand again, and you do your best to let it take the place of the hug and kiss you’re desperate to give him. You know you have a whole life to hug and kiss him as you please and that you’re going to feel this same overwhelming love in both directions in a few minutes when Robby says you can finally kiss. In this moment you just hope Jack has a fraction of a clue of how much you love him and need him and looking at him and seeing how he looks at you, you’re pretty sure he does.

“Well,” Robby says quietly. “I think we all need a moment after those.” Sniffled laughter rings out from the audience as Robby does give everyone a moment to dry their eyes and collect themselves. Even you and Jack both manage to get your tears to stop, if only for a little. “I’ll now ask you both to affirm your vows and declare your intent.” 

Robby turns to Jack first. “Jack, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Jack’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists as he says the words clear and strong, not a hint of hesitation to be found anywhere. 

“And do you,” Robby’s attention turns to you as he says your name, “take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” You beam at Jack as you say it and you’ve never exuded such confidence. You say it like it’s the easiest and simplest thing in the world.

“And now for the exchange of rings.” Robby’s voice is a little shaky. He grabs them both out of his breast pocket. “Very beautiful rings at that.” He says, sniffling and clearing his throat, a low hum of laughter sounding at his attempt to hide his emotions. He holds them in his palm in front of you and Jack, the padfolio with his notes in his other hand. 

Robby takes in a deep breath. “Your rings symbolize your love for one another. Love freely given and chosen every day with no beginning or end and with no true giver or receiver as you both give and receive equally, unbroken and infinite and yours alone. When you look at your rings be reminded of this moment, of the vows you’ve made to each other today, and of your unending and ever growing love for each other.” 

He offers his palm to Jack who picks up your ring. You raise your left hand and spread your fingers so Jack can hover your wedding ring at the start of your ring finger. Your hand shakes, no matter how hard try to keep it still the excitement and disbelief and joy and love win and it keeps shaking. Jack supports your hand with his free one, has it upturned, fingers resting against your palm and the length of your fingers, thumb wrapping gently over the side of your hand and resting on the back of it. Jack’s eyes return to yours and with it the intense eye contact you share, have been sharing most of your time up here. His eyes are glassy as he smiles at you. But you catch the slight tremble of his lips. 

“Jack, repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.” Jack’s eyes grow glassier as more tears form.  

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.”

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.” A few tears slide down Jack’s cheeks, his voice breaking around ‘always.’ You reach out with your right hand instinctively and use your handkerchief to blot some of his tears from his face making him laugh a little. From his face your hand goes to your own where tears have started to fall. 

“And with this ring, I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.”

“And with this ring,” Jack has to pause for a second to collect himself and clear his throat, “I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.” He’s smiling at you as he says it, tears still wetting his face as he breaks eye contact with you to watch as he slides your wedding ring all the way onto your finger. 

You watch as he does too, wear the biggest grin when you look back up at each other. You widen your eyes at him in a silent oh my god I have a wedding ring, we just did that. 

Robby holds his palm out for you and you take Jack’s wedding ring. Jack holds his left hand out and spreads his fingers just like you did. And his hand shakes just as badly as yours did as you hover his wedding ring at the start of his finger. Your free hand comes to support his left as he did for you. 

Robby glances at you. “Repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.” You press your lips together hard but they pull upward in a smile, tears still flowing from listening to Jack declare the same thing to you and trying to prevent the emotion from fully clouding your voice this early.

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.”

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.” You make it just a little further than Jack, the tears slipping into your voice and making it break at ‘in.’ 

Neither you nor Jack really stopped crying since you started again when Jack gave you your ring, nor have either of you stopped smiling through your tears. So, like you, Jack uses his handkerchief to wipe away some of your tears before doing the same for himself and his own. He’s careful too, dabbing like he’s observed you doing so that he doesn’t smear your makeup. You fight the urge his care and attention gives you to cry a little harder. 

“And with this ring, I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.”

“And with this ring, I marry you,” you pause to sniffle, try and steady your voice in vain, “and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.” You have to break eye contact again so you can both watch as you slide his wedding band all the way onto his finger. Once it’s on you both watch as Jack closes his hand into a fist and reopens it as he gets used to having a ring. 

You’re both wide eyed as you hold hands again and slowly look back up at each other, almost in disbelief because this is it. You both have rings, have made vows and declared your intent. Robby is about to say it. Grins pull up onto your face, breaking quickly into huge beaming smiles. You’re both so overwhelmed with love in the moment, tears flow a little harder and you both giggle softly.

“And now by the very limited authority vested in me,” Robby nods at you and Jack and grabs both of your handkerchiefs from you, not that either of you see him or do much more than release them when you feel him pull, still focused on each other, still beaming so hard your cheeks hurt, “I pronounce you husband and wife. May your first act of marriage be one of love. You may now kiss for the first time as husband and wife.” As soon as he’s done speaking, Robby moves off the altar to the side so that it’ll just be you and Jack in photos, your friends and family cheering and clapping loudly for you, a couple of people whistling. 

Without hesitation you and Jack move in synchrony, both of you taking a half step towards the other to close the small distance between you, your bodies pressing against one another. Jack brings his hands up to your face, his thumbs resting gently above your jawline as his other fingers hold your neck. Your hands find the sides of his upper arms and wrap around them as much as possible. You both somehow smile a little bigger as you keep looking each other in the eyes for a second, your hands. Your heads tilt in opposite directions automatically as you lean in and kiss for the first time as a married couple. 

The kiss is perfect. Short and chaste but so much more than enough to at least begin to convey all the emotions both of you are feeling, the excitement and disbelief and joy and overwhelming love. There’s so much love in the kiss it almost makes both of you dizzy. It lingers just long enough but not too long. When it ends you steal another couple quickly. “I love you,” you giggle against Jack’s lips. 

“I love you too,” Jack chuckles a little.

Your arms wrap around Jack’s neck, one hand staying to hold the side of his face as his hands are moving so that one arm wraps around you, hand splaying against your back as his other hand grips your waist. He pulls you tight against him and then tucks you under him as he spins you a little and smoothly dips you as he kisses you again, just like he did when you first visited and selected the venue. You finish one kiss and smile against each other’s lips for a second before you kiss again and Jack returns you upright just as smoothly as he dipped you.  

When you’re standing again you and Jack pull apart, and the audience quiets just enough as Robby steps back onto the altar so that he can introduce you. “Family and friends, I’m honored and thrilled to introduce to you for the first time the Abbots!”

You’re sure you must grin like a love-drunk idiot when Robby calls you the Abbots but you genuinely couldn’t stop it if you tried. You’re truly just that happy. And Jack’s smiling just as hard at you as he laces your hand with his and you both turn towards the audience. You grab your bouquet from Dana in your other hand and exchange smiles with her before turning back to Jack to share a glance and make your way back up the aisle, smiling and thanking your friends and family who are clapping for you once again as you do. 

You and Jack walk hand in hand to the small room you’ve set aside to have thirty minutes with each other before you take photos while your guests enjoy cocktail hour. Your makeup artist has already graciously left you some redness clearing eyedrops and the caterer dropped off some appetizers for the two of you to enjoy. You figured it was a good way to give your eyes a chance to recover from crying even though your photographer can edit them out and to get some food because you’ve been told it gets hectic and the bride and groom often don’t get to eat much. But more than anything it’s just thirty minutes alone together as husband and wife. 

Once you’re both in the room with the door locked you can finally give into the urges to be close and hold each other that you were both fighting the entire ceremony. 

Your arms slide around Jack’s neck as his slide around your back, pulling you as close to him as he can get while still being able to kiss you. Because kiss you Jack does. He starts fairly chaste, more a series of kisses than anything but they grow more fervent, his tongue flicking across your bottom lip to coax your mouth open for him. When you do he’s quick to lick into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you. He lets you into his mouth when your tongue seeks it out, sucks slightly to pull another pretty moan from you, a small groan escaping him when you nip at his bottom lip and suck at it before letting him dive back into you.

You finally break apart when you’re no longer able to get enough oxygen in through your nose alone. You rest your foreheads together for a second before you move you to have your face nuzzling against his neck so that your chests can be pressed against each other more as you hold each other. 

“I wanted to do this so bad during the ceremony,” you murmur. “Just hug and hold you and be hugged and held by you. I just wanted to be close after everything that we said.” 

Jack squeezes you tighter, rocks you both a little. “I did too Doll, believe me.”

The two of you stand there holding each other and relishing in your closeness for what has to be five minutes. You’re both silent save the occasional soft hum at the right touch. You’re silent but you’re still talking to each other with your hands, where they wander and rub and squeeze. Both of you are reflecting on what you said to each other at the ceremony, what was said to you by the other, observations Robby made. It’s hard to believe it’s real. You made it here together and are now standing holding each other as husband and wife. 

Jack takes great care not to mess up your hair as he lets one of his hands find the back of your neck and pulls your face from him gently. “Let me really look at you and your dress now, yeah?” he murmurs as his eyes find yours before you can whine about being pulled away from him. 

“Only if I can also really look at you.” You smile and are already releasing him and stepping back for him as you say it. You know he’ll let you. He won’t understand why you want to, but he’ll let you. 

“Course,” he whispers distractedly as he takes his own step back and starts really taking in your dress, taking in every detail and walking around you to see the entire thing. The same feelings and thoughts as when he saw you for the first time rush through him. “Doll,” he breathes out once he’s in front of you again, “you are truly stunning. You always are but this, you in your wedding dress, fuck, it’s something else.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it but once he finishes they quickly drop again, sweeping over your dress and back up to your eyes. “There really aren’t words.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, awkward at accepting compliments, even from him. But you don’t need to say more, Jack knows. He knows what his words mean to you and how they make you feel. “Let me see you, please.” Jack nods and your eyes rake over his body. He turns for you slowly, lets you take him in. “You are so unfairly handsome, Jack, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” Like with him, your feelings and thoughts when you saw him the first time hit you all over again. “Always are, but this,” you let out a soft laugh and shake your head slightly, “like you said, it’s something else. No words.”

A light flush hits Jack’s neck and cheeks. He struggles accepting compliments at times just like you. “Thank you.” He doesn’t need to say more either, and you share another kiss and wrap each other in a tight hug again, communicating so much with every touch. You stay wrapped in each other like that for at least a minute if not a little longer. 

“Wanna sit? Have some food?” Jack finally murmurs. He would stand here holding you forever if you asked. Happily.

You nod, take his hand as he releases you and guides you over to the couch, food on the table in front of it, along with the eyedrops. “Here.” You grab the eyedrops and a tissue, put a couple drops in each eye. “To help with the redness.”

“You really thought of everything didn’t you?” Jack grabs them from you and then the tissue, puts a few in each eye and uses the tissue to catch anything that falls over. 

“Makeup artist,” you admit. “She was on it.” 

“She was,” Jack murmurs. “Even though you don’t need it in the slightest, your makeup does look exceptional.” He leans in for a quick kiss before turning to pull the table the food is on closer to the couch.

“Wait! Before we eat, move my engagement ring back!” You hold out both hands. 

He chuckles a little at your excitement. You could easily move it back yourself but you want him to and it’s adorable. “Alright, Doll.” Jack smiles at you as he slides your engagement ring off your right hand and brings it over a little and slides it right back down your left ring finger until it sits atop your wedding band perfectly. He brings your hand up and kisses your rings before he lets go of your hand. “Perfect.”

You giggle a little as you look down at your left hand and wiggle your finger a little to watch all the diamonds catch the light. Jack smiles as he watches you, drinks you in and tries to memorize the moment and how happy and gorgeous you look. “Hey, guess what?” You look back up at him.

“What?”

You shift a little closer to him and place your hands on his chest. “You’re my husband now,” you slide your hands up his neck to hold his face, “and I’m your wife.”

Jack’s eyes darken, jaw tensing and breathing picking up just slightly. His hands wrap over yours where they rest against his face and neck. “My wife,” he breathes out. 

His lips are on yours, all consuming from the get go, no soft lead-up like he usually does. His kisses are insistent, tongue tasting you again and pulling a little moan from the back of your throat. The sound spurs him on, Jack’s hands moving, arms wrapping around you as he leans you back onto the couch, one hand supporting your neck and helping you keep it up enough so that your hair is protected as your head almost lays against the armrest of the couch. It’s an awkward position with your legs still over the edge of the couch but neither of you care or even particularly notice, getting lost in each other, heavy exhales through your noises and sloppy kissing sounds filling the room.  

“Jack.” You try to say his name as a warning but it comes out far too breathy to be remotely effective. He doesn’t like that you’ve pulled away, his lips chasing yours as he makes a noise of discontent. “You really want our first time as husband and wife to be a quickie in a random room?”

“I mean…it’s a nice couch,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Jack.” Your hands push at his chest a little so that he’ll look at you. 

“No, no, I know you’re right, I just.” He groans and rests his forehead against your chest for a second before looking back up at you and helping you sit back upright.  “I just want you. Really bad. My wife.”

“I know.” You give him a soft smile and kiss on the cheek. “And please don’t think I don’t want you. I do. Just as badly as you want me.”

“No, I know, I don’t think that,” he assures you. “You’re right. I want to be able to go slow and take my wife apart piece by piece for our first time as husband and wife.” 

His words make you shiver. “Yeah,” you breathe out and nod, eyes flicking all over his face and down his body before coming back up. “I want to be able to do that to my husband too.” 

Jack groans, leans his forehead against yours. “The anticipation makes it better, right?”

You let out a small laugh. “Sure does, Peter.” You give him another quick kiss. “Let’s have some food.” Jack nods and pulls his forehead away. 

You and Jack both start to eat, still side by side and leaning into each other a little. “Oh, what’s the ring on your right hand?” Jack asks in between bites. 

“Mm,” you hum as you finish chewing and swallowing. “My something borrowed, which reminds me. Thank you. For doing that for me, arranging it.” You look down at the ring. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to do it until I had everything.” You return your eyes to Jack’s and smile at him. 

“It felt like you were a little more bummed about not doing it than you were admitting to yourself. And none of them felt burdened by it, if anything they were all excited to have that extra bit of involvement.” He raises his eyebrows a little and cocks his head just a little, the slightest I told you so smile pulling onto his face. 

“I’m ignoring that look on purpose,” you tell him before taking a bite and grinning at him. Jack just laughs and shakes his head, takes a bite of his own. “But the ring is from Dana, obviously. She said it’s been worn by every Evans woman who has gotten married for a hundred and two years and there’s not been a single divorce,” you explain after you finish your bite. 

Jack’s eyebrows raise at that and he tilts his head to silently say impressive as he chews. “Then something new you obviously know about which we’re circling back to in a second.” You grab your bouquet from the table. “Heather’s something old was this locket.” You hand the bouquet to Jack so he can see. 

“It’s very pretty.” He runs his thumb over the front. 

“It is. She got it at an antique store and said hummingbirds are a symbol of resilience and she thought that was fitting for us.” You rest your hand on Jack’s upper arm and squeeze a little. “Open it.” 

It should be more difficult than it is for Jack with how big his hands and how thick his fingers are but practicing medicine has given him phenomenal dexterity. You’re intimately familiar with how good his dexterity is. “Oh, wow,” Jack murmurs. He doesn’t know what he was expecting but not that. “Our first picture together.”

You beam at Jack even though he can’t see because he’s still looking at the picture. “She got it off my phone one night when we were out. Very sneaky,” you laugh. “And then apparently the rhyme ends with ‘a sixpence in your shoe.’ Mel wasn’t sure if anyone was getting one so she got one and we attached it to my shoe.” You hold it out for Jack to see. “But about this something new, Jack Abbot.”

“You skipped something blue.” Jack raises his brows at you slightly as he takes another bite. 

You shake your head, smirking just a little. “No, something blue is for you to see later.”

His eyes narrow in suspicion just a touch but you watch as they dilate a little because he knows it has to be something below your dress based on your smirk. “What if I want to see it now?” he rasps. 

“Then you’ll have to be patient.” You shrug at him. “Something new. Jack, it’s beautiful.” You hold up your wrist to admire the bracelet. “It’s so much and it complements my rings perfectly.” You can feel your eyes start to burn a little and you have to look away from the bracelet and Jack so that you don’t start crying again and render the eyedrops useless. 

“You deserve it,” Jack murmurs, making you shake your head and tilt it back so you don’t cry. “It’s about the least you deserve, Doll.” You reach blindly for his thigh and squeeze it as a thank you and way to say all the words you can’t at the moment. “And let’s talk about my something new.” That gets you to laugh a little and after a big breath you’re able to look at him. “It’s incredible.” Jack holds his wrist out this time, pulling his sleeves up a bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever had something this nice or been given such an amazing gift.” He runs a finger along the circular face of the watch. 

You’re smiling at him when he looks up at you. It’s soft and reflects so much love with the extra little squint of your eyes. “You deserve it. It’s about the least you deserve, Peter,” you repeat Jack’s words back to him, mean them just as much.

He smiles at you, just a hint of some shakiness in his lips before leaning in to kiss you. Like your thigh squeeze his kiss is a thank you and everything else he can’t say. “I love you,” he whispers as he pulls away, smiling softly at you.  

“I love you too.” You give him another little thigh squeeze. 

You and Jack continue to chat as you finish eating your appetizers. You still have some time left once your done and Jack pulls you into his lap and leans back into the couch as he holds you. You both revel in the closeness and soft touches. 

There’s a knock on the door and you know your time is up. “Guess I have to go share you with everyone again.” You pout at Jack playfully. 

He chuckles and kisses your out turned lip. “I know how you feel Doll.” He gives you a real kiss once you get rid of your pout and then is up and opening the door.

Waiting outside it for you are your photographer, your makeup artist, Robby, Dana, and your friend. “Marriage license time,” Robby sings a little as he walks in holding up the paper. 

All of you sign it, Dana and your friend acting as your two witnesses. You say goodbye and they head back to cocktail hour while you get your makeup touched up and you and Jack meet with your photographer for photos, take what feels like a thousand all over the place. You both know it’s going to be hard to choose which ones to get printed and hang. 

Just before you finish taking photos your wedding coordinator gets everyone to the reception space and seated for dinner. When you do finish she lets Robby know and hands him the mic. You’d also roped him in to quasi-emceeing for you. 

He introduces you as you and Jack walk into the reception space. “Alright everybody, for the second ever time, let’s give a warm welcome to the Abbots!” Your guests all cheer and clap for you as you and Jack make your way over to your sweetheart table and sit down, Jack pulling your chair out and offering you his hand to help you sit like he always does. 

“Okay, so,” Robby starts as dinner begins to be served. “Obviously dinner is being served. The bride and groom decided to let whoever wants to give a speech give one during dinner. But you have to give it before they give their own right before the first dance.” 

“I’m not going to give a full one since I really already got to at the altar. But, I just want to say again that you both mean so much to me and I am so happy for you guys. I wish you all the happiness in the world, you both deserve it so so much and deserve each other and your love. So here’s to the Abbot’s,” Robby raises his glass and everyone follows, “I love you both dearly.” He tilts his glass at you and the sound of glasses clinking together fills the room for a few seconds before it stops when sips are taken. 

Quite a few people give speeches over the course of dinner, Dana, Heather, your friend, Jack’s unit gets up and gives one together, some of the Pitt crew copying and getting up in small groups to say a few words. You and Jack laugh and chat together in between them, stay close to each other and pick off each other’s plates. You’d deliberately gotten different options so you could share, something you frequently do when you eat out. 

Once you’re done eating and signal to Robby he gets up and calls out to see if there are any last speeches and hands you and Jack the microphone when everyone stays seated. You and Jack take turns speaking to all of your friends and family, keep it short because you know everyone’s attention spans for speeches are worn by this point. 

After you finish Robby takes the microphone back, gives you and Jack a second to get out on the dance floor. He keeps the introduction simple. “And now we get to watch them have their first dance as husband and wife.”

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whisper to Jack as you start to dance when your song begins playing. 

“I know,” he murmurs back as he beams at you. “After all the planning and waiting for this day to come here we are.” You and Jack are really swaying to the music more than anything. You didn’t learn a dance or really practice. It just wasn’t your style as a couple. 

“You know I’ve been thinking about this moment since you danced with me up on the roof.” Your eyes start to grow a little shiny. 

Jack smirks a little and flicks his eyebrows up. “We weren’t even engaged then.”

You shake your head. “No, we weren’t. But I hoped and dreamed we would be one day and while we were dancing and ever since then I had moments where I really thought about it and what it would be like. Our first dance at our wedding.” 

“You wanna know a secret?” Jack’s grinning at you. 

“Always.”

“I came about three seconds away from proposing up there on the roof that night,” he admits with a little laugh. 

Your jaw falls open a little. “Really?” Jack nods at you with an amused smile. “Why didn’t you?” You’re smiling back at him now that you’ve gotten over the initial shock of his unexpected revelation. 

Jack hums for a second. “I didn’t think the roof of the hospital I work at and you were currently a patient at really screamed romantic or place to propose. And you were in the hospital. You’d been shot and almost died and I didn’t want it to feel like that’s why I was proposing. Because of what happened or because I felt like I had to or anything along those lines.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that,” you murmur. Jack nods. He knows. He knew then too, but it still worried him and at the end of the day he didn’t want to propose on the roof of the hospital. “Did you have the ring with you?”

“No,” he laughs, “nope, I was just going to get down on one knee and do it and promise you there was a ring waiting at home and send Robby to go get it.” He pauses for a second. “I was also worried you would get so excited you’d somehow manage to accidentally pull your central line out and it would go from cute date night scene to bloody crime scene with my hand clamped over your neck real quick.” 

“That would not have been ideal.” Jack spins you at the right point in the music and it and his words make you giggle a bit. “Would have been a hell of a story though.” 

“Oh, it would have been something,” he laughs. You both smile at each other fondly, glad you’ve gotten to a point where you can talk about what happened with some humor and not feel a total ache inside. 

“I love you,” you whisper to him, “more than anything.” You stick your lips out and Jack leans down as you continue to dance and gives you the kiss you ask for. 

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips, “more than anything.” He steals another couple of kisses from you before straightening back up as the song starts to end. “I’m going to dip you,” he murmurs quickly.

And as the music ends Jack dips you and kisses you again, just like he did at the altar. You smile into it before the kiss breaks and you keep your foreheads together as Jack brings you back upright. “Always so smooth,” you laugh. 

“Only for you, Doll,” he murmurs, pulling his forehead from yours and giving you a quick forehead kiss while your guests clap and the DJ puts on a fast song, everyone heading to the dance floor.

The party really starts then, the DJ doing a great job of playing all the right songs to get people dancing and having a good time with you and Jack out on the dance floor. He mixes in a few slow songs and you and Jack enjoy watching who pairs up with who and getting to take a few minutes to focus back on each other and check in. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jack tells you with a quick kiss after a slower song finishes and a fast one starts. 

“You better be,” you say with mock sternness in your tone and on your face, Jack rolling his eyes playfully at you. He walks off the dance floor and shrugs his jacket off and lays it over his chair at the sweetheart table and undoes a button of his shirt. 

Jack keeps his promise, making his way back to you from behind and pulling you close as he starts dancing with you again. “Fast enough?” He yells over the music. 

“I suppose.” You turn your head up to look back at him, huge smile on your face. Your eyebrows raise and you spin in his arms when you notice the lack of jacket and open button. “Hot?”

“Not anymore.” Jack smirks at you and pulls you back close to him to dance. 

You and Jack get separated a bit as you dance. And when another slow song starts Robby cuts in just before Jack can get to you. “May I have this dance?” He offers you his hand. “Don’t even start Jack, the officiant is allowed a dance with the bride, it’s just the rules.” Robby smirks, giving Jack a look.  

You laugh softly at Robby’s playful over-formalness. “You may,” you nod at him, take his hand. “Next one, Peter.” You wink at Jack.

“It’s true Jack, Robby’s right,” Dana playfully chides him. “Plus I think you owe me a dance.” 

“I suppose you did walk me down the aisle.” Jack smiles and steps away from you and Robby before offering his hand to Dana. 

You and Robby start dancing, really just swaying around the dance floor more than anything. “I had an interesting conversation with your husband while he was getting ready earlier.” 

You’re smiling at Robby the entire time, but your eyes light up and you beam at him when he calls Jack your husband. “My husband,” you just have to say the words, make a little face of excitement. “And what did you and my husband talk about?”  

Robby’s quiet for a moment as he thinks of what exactly he wants to say. “I started by telling him that the two of you were idiots for thinking you don’t deserve each other and your love, because I know you have the same thoughts as him at times.” Your mouth drops open a little and you scoff playfully. It’s definitely not what you expected him to say. “And then I said some rendition of this. You said he’s your everything and I know he is. Everyone here knows he is, we all believe you. I see the way you look at him and hear the way you talk about him. But, you have to know that you are everything to Jack in that same way, that same capacity. He looks at you and talks about you in the same way you do about him. The way that you love him and feel about him and the intensity of your love for him, it’s all exactly the same as how Jack loves you and feels about you and how intense his love for you is. You think he deserves your love, right?” 

“He does,” you affirm quietly as you nod. 

“Yeah,” Robby nods, “he does. And you deserve his love just the same. I told Jack that I think today, on the day of your wedding, would be a really good day to let yourself accept it. That you deserve Jack and his love and to be loved at the same intensity with which you love Jack.” Robby’s giving you a small, knowing smile, eyebrows slightly raised as he nods just a little at you. 

You have to look away for a moment. “Robby, I,”  you start, but never finish. His words hit you just as hard as they hit Jack. As hard as it is for you to believe and admit you know Robby is right. 

“It’s okay,” you can hear the smile in Robby’s voice and you look back at him. “You don’t have to say anything. I just told Jack I’d give you the same spiel.” 

You laugh softly. “What was his reaction? It had to involve your therapist.”

Robby laughs properly at that. “Yeah, you know him well. He said our therapist was rubbing off on me and asked if I was thinking of leaving him to become a psychologist.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Sounds like him.” You and Robby share a quiet laugh together, your eyes drifting across the dance floor until you spot Jack. You watch him and Dana dance for a moment, both of them smiling and laughing. It makes your heart warm. 

“You’re really good for him, you know?” Robby watches you watch Jack. You pull your eyes back to him and flash an apologetic smile for ignoring him a little for a second there. “I’ve never really had the chance to tell you that. But you’re really really good for him. You’re what he needed.” 

You give Robby a small smile. “Yeah, he was what I needed too. What I need.”

“I know it sounds like something people say just to say, but please try to believe me when I tell you that I have never seen that man happier than I have since you’ve been in his life.” Robby smiles and tilts his head. “And thank you. For loving and helping the people around him too.” 

“You’re family. All of you. And thank you, Michael,” your voice shakes just slightly. “For everything.” 

Robby huffs a laugh and looks away from you for a second. “That was a very targeted use of Michael meant to make me cry again.”  

You both laugh as the song ends and move towards the edge of the dance floor. “It wasn’t deliberate,” you whisper as you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “It just felt like the right moment.” 

“Am I allowed to have my wife back now?” 

“Of course,” Robby tells him as you both turn to greet Jack and it’s almost like you’re magnetized the way you both seamlessly move towards each other, your hand sliding to rest on Jack’s back as his arm wraps around your waist. He gives you a reassuring little squeeze and kiss to your temple and you rest your other hand on his chest. 

“He gave me the spiel.” You look up at Jack with a gentle smile. 

“Ah,” Jack nods, “good. You should listen to him.” 

“You both should listen to me!” Robby scoffs playfully. “Once again, you’re both idiots sometimes.” 

“Thank you for not putting that in your ceremony opening or your speech.” Jack flicks his eyebrows up and nods at Robby with a fake grimace and ire. 

Robby rolls his eyes. “Just try, yeah? That’s all. Just try to accept you deserve each other and your love, okay?”

You and Jack share a look and exchange soft smiles before turning to Robby. “We are,” Jack assures him. 

“Promise,” you add. 

Robby looks between the two of you before nodding. “Alright. Good.” He looks back at the dance floor. The music is fast again, the majority of your guests out dancing. It makes you and Jack happy, seeing all of your friends and family blending together like they’ve known each other forever. “You guys should get back to dancing with your guests.”

“You,” you point at Robby, smile growing, “should come with us!”

He laughs, shakes his head. “Maybe in a bit, I’m going to take advantage of your open bar and go get a drink, sit for a minute.”

You boo him teasingly. “No, no, Doll,” Jack starts as Robby turns and starts walking away, “if the old man needs a rest, we have to let him. Don’t want him straining himself, do we?” You bite your lip and turn your head into Jack’s chest a little as you fight back a laugh.

Robby stops walking and gives a singular hummed laugh before turning to look back at you and Jack. “You just really had to go there, huh?”

Jack presses his lips together and pulls them up a bit in a not quite smirk, as he shrugs and starts pulling you towards the center of the dance floor. “I didn’t go anywhere but the truth.” 

You giggle as you and Jack turn and let yourselves get pulled back into the middle of things, starting to dance with your friends again. Jack doesn’t let you get separated this time, he wants you close, keeps a hand wrapped around your waist and you pulled back close to him. You share a laugh when you see Robby there with you, getting pulled in by Heather and Santos. 

A few songs later and the DJ announces that the cake will be cut in ten minutes. You spin so that you and Jack are chest to chest. “Guess we should go sit and cool down and I should touch my makeup up before that.”

Jack nods at you and laces your hand with his. The two of you walk back over to your sweetheart table and Jack pulls your chair back for you, helps you sit before he takes his own seat. “Thank you.” You lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing the makeup bag staged under the table. 

“For?” 

“For getting my chair and helping me into my seat.” You throw him a smile as you start to pull things out of the bag. “And don’t say I don’t need to thank you for it because that’s what a gentleman does or whatever variation thereof you were about to say. I do need to thank you for it because I appreciate it and you and want you to always know that and that I don’t take you for granted. And most men don’t do things like that anymore, Jack. So it is special to me.” 

Jack laughs to himself. “You’re welcome. I enjoy doing those kinds of little things for you.” 

“I know, because you’re the best.” You pull a couple of oil blotting papers out from the pack in your makeup bag. “Sh.” You hold your index finger up to Jack’s lips. “Just accept that you are.” You pull your finger away and replace it quickly with your lips. 

Jack deepens the kiss more than he generally would in public and you let him. You’re effectively alone right now, everyone having so much fun dancing or sitting around the other tables and laughing that nobody is looking at you. Even then it’s not like you’re fully making out. Jack’s tongue just presses against your lips a little and you open your mouth just a little for him, just enough for his tongue to slip into your mouth and taste you for the briefest of seconds.

“You taste like expensive champagne,” he groans against your lips before pulling away. “I love it.” 

You hum at him and Jack says nothing, doesn’t flinch or blink as you start to blot at his face with the papers, just lets you do your thing, both of you equally sweaty. It’s a better look on him though. You only blot a few more places and then pull away, deciding it’s okay if he looks a little sweaty. Just makes him more attractive to you if you’re honest. “I enjoy expensive champagne,” you smirk at him as you shrug, “actually I’d like more expensive champagne. We should go get some.”

“I’ll go get us some, okay? While you touch yourself up or whatever it is you believe you need to do, because I personally think you look gorgeous just as you are right now.” He leans in and steals a kiss before you can argue with him. 

“I look sweaty and shiny.” Your eyes track him as he stands up.  

Jack stoops and kisses the top of your hair carefully. “Gorgeous,” he whispers as he walks away, walking backwards for a few paces to wink at you before turning. 

You shake your head at him affectionately and go back to blotting your face and touching up your makeup so that your lipstick is fresh and your face perfectly between matte and dewy. You know your photographer can edit things but you also know other people will be taking photos. It really hits you once you close your compact and aren’t focused on your face anymore. You and Jack are married. You’re about to cut the cake at your wedding. 

Jack’s thinking the same thing as he walks to the bar and in the moment he waits for the bartender to pour the two glasses of champagne and one of water. He thumbs at his wedding ring, opens and closes his fist. He’s not used to it, wearing a ring, and so it’s a constant reminder. You’re married. He’s bringing his wife back champagne for you to enjoy together before you cut the cake at your wedding. 

“Okay, more expensive champagne as requested.” Jack hands you your flute before he sits and sets down his flute and the glass of water. “And some water. We should both have some.” He gives you a little no arguing look. 

“I wasn’t going to argue, I was going to say thank you and that I meant to ask you to get some before you walked away but forgot.” You grab the glass and take a couple sips. “So thank you. I needed it.” You hold the glass out to him. 

“Course, Doll.” He takes it from you, has a couple of sips himself before setting it down. You both pick up your champagne flutes and take a sip. 

You hum as you let the bubbles rest in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. “You have to admit it’s really fucking good champagne.”

Jack laughs. “I never said it wasn’t! I think it’s very good.” He stops speaking but his lips twitch like he wants to say more, eyes glint a little mischievously. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “I was just thinking about how I was never a big champagne fan before you.” You raise your eyebrows at him asking that so? as you take another sip. “Tasting it on you though… changed my opinion. Now I love it.”  

You cough a little as you finish your sip, not expecting him to say that. “Probably less tasting it on me and more me making us always get expensive real champagne.” 

“No, I’m quite certain it was tasting it on you.” You give him a look. “It was. The first time we shared a bottle of one of your favorite expensive real champagnes we were at your apartment because your week had been long and you wanted to celebrate it being over and the fact that I had a full weekend off so we could spend the entire weekend together. I had a glass and thought it was better than champagne I’d had before, yes, but I didn’t love it really. And then we started making out on your couch and I tasted it on you and my eyes were opened. Ever since then I really have come to enjoy it. But it was tasting it on you that made me start to enjoy it.”

You nod at him, the slight grin you’re wearing telling Jack that while you struggle to believe it, you do believe him. “I’m equal parts wooed and turned on by that little confession, Peter.”

Jack laughs at that, properly, because it was such a you thing to say. “You are…” he shakes his head and looks around while he tries to find the right word. “You.” His eyes crinkle and his lips pull up, “you’re so you sometimes, Doll, and I love it so much. I’m sure that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense but-” 

“It does,” you cut in to reassure him. “I know what you mean. You have moments where you say or do something and I think to myself that was such a Jack thing of him to say or do. I get it, and I love it too.” You give Jack the same loving smile he’s giving you. “A toast.” You raise your champagne flute, Jack following your lead. “To a long lifetime of expensive champagne together.”

Jack shakes his head at you, still smiling at you like he’s drowning in love. “Here, here,” he murmurs before you clink your glasses and take a sip. “You done touching up?”

“I am,” you nod. “We still have some time.”

“I know, come here.” Jack beckons you with his fingers, his other hand patting his lap. You giggle as you comply with his request, sliding your flute of champagne over next to his before sitting on his lap, one arm wrapping behind his neck so you can scratch at the nape of his neck how he loves. “That’s better.” One arm comes around you to hold you close while his other hand rests in your lap and starts to play with your hand that rests there too.

You let yourself lean into him. Let yourself lean into your husband as you take a moment together and watch the room, sip on champagne and water. “I can’t believe it’s almost over.”

“I know,” Jack agrees. His hand squeezes your hip and you look down at him. “Thank you.”

You smile at him curiously. “For what?” 

“Everything.” He shrugs, looking into your eyes. “Marrying me. Being my best friend. Making me laugh. Taking care of me. Loving me.” There’s a little pause between each one so they all sink in. Jack glances away from you and you can tell from that and his expression that there’s one he’s fighting with himself about saying. When he looks back up at you he’s clearly more emotional. “Waking up,” he whispers so quietly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t looking right at him. 

“Jack-”

“No,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat. “No, I don’t want us to go there or dwell on it or any of that, I just wanted to say it, felt like we should acknowledge it quickly somehow.” 

You give him a soft smile, bring your hands to cup his face. “I’ll always wake up for you,” you murmur as you look him in the eyes and lean in to give him a series of painfully soft and sweet kisses. 

“Good.” He smirks at you. “If you don’t I’ll just pinch your ass awake.” 

“Ha!” you laugh triumphantly. “So you admit it! You did pinch my ass awake on the day of our third anniversary and wedding.” Jack starts laughing because the way you said it was so you again and he loves you so much and you’re his fucking wife now. You shake your head at him in mock upset.

Jack keeps laughing, his laugh so contagious it makes you start to laugh with him. He’s overwhelmed. “I love you so fucking much I want to squeeze you and bite you and kiss you and also just fuck you right here on this table, god.” He leans in and steals a kiss from you, longer this time. 

“I love when I bring out the cuteness aggression in you,” you giggle as he pulls away. Jack shakes his head at you and laughs softly. “But hey,” you grow a little serious again. “Thank you too. For everything. Marrying me, being my best friend, making me laugh. Loving me.” Your voice gets a little like Jack’s did and you tilt your head at him a little. “Taking care of me. Never leaving my side. Never letting me feel alone.” 

“Always, Doll.” Jack’s eyes crinkle just a little more than normal with his soft smile that you return. You just look at each other for a moment, let it all fade away and rest your foreheads together. 

“Here.” You pull your forehead from Jack’s and grab a napkin, dip a little piece in the glass of water. “Let me make sure you don’t have any lipstick on you.” 

“Not my color?” He smirks. 

“Not there it isn’t.” You look him in the eyes and smirk harder, the quickest and slightest raise of your brows.

Jack lets out a single choked laugh as you bring the napkin to his lips and rub gently. “Are you trying to have me hard in the cake cutting photos?”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately as you finish wiping off his lips. “I’m sitting on your lap Peter, I can assure you that if I wanted you hard in the cake cutting photos I wouldn’t be using my words to achieve that.” You boop his nose on the last word and die a little inside at how cute he looks when he scrunches his nose at it. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he playfully grumbles as you grab your lipstick and compact to check if you need to touch up from the kisses. “Do you want me to put my jacket back on while we cut the cake for the photos?” 

“Up to you,” you shrug at him. “I want you to be happy and look how you want to look in our wedding photos. It’s not all about what I want.” 

“No, I know, I just didn’t know if you had a preference because I don’t really care strongly one way or the other,” Jack explains. “I just want you to be happy.”

You tilt your head at him and give him a small smile. “As long as you’re up there cutting the cake with me Jack, I’m going to be happy. Jacket or not. All I need is you.” Jack makes a little noise of protest and you laugh softly. “Why don’t you leave it off? We have lots of photos of you with it on and I don’t know, you have the jacket off for a reason. Because you got hot while dancing and having fun at our wedding before we even made it to cutting the cake. I like the idea of the photos reflecting that. But truly, it’s up to you.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave it off.” A beat passes and Jack doesn’t quite stifle his smirk fast enough so you catch a glimpse of it. “Do you want me to undo one more button for the photos?” 

Your heart races a bit just at the thought of him with two buttons undone. “That would be very slutty of you Peter,” you hum. 

“Slutty?” Jack barks out a laugh. “Are you saying I’ve looked slutty every time I’ve worn a dress shirt like that?”

“Why do you think I never want you wearing two undone in public? I’d have to fight everyone off.” You shrug.

“So you’re saying I’m a slut?” He raises his eyebrows, amused smile ghosting his lips as he tries to keep it from pulling up. But you can see it, especially in his eyes.

“No.” You shake your head slowly and finish off your champagne, set the empty flute on the table. You lean in close enough for your breath to ghost across his lips, drop your voice to just above a whisper. “I’m saying you’re my slut,” you pull back and give him a dazzling smile, “Dr. Abbot.”

“Jesus,” Jack mutters under his breath, shaking his head and looking away from you. “You’re ending up using your words to achieve it without trying.” You giggle at his reference to your earlier discussion. “Doctor was so on purpose.” 

You tug just sharply enough on the curls at the nape of his neck to pull a little sharp breath from him. “You started it my love, making me think about you with two buttons open. I merely finished it.” You steal a quick kiss from him. “You know you can call me it now.” 

Jack is focusing so intensely on not getting any harder than the semi he currently has that he’s a little too distracted to truly think about your words. His eyebrows raise a little. “Call you what?”

Your eyes flick away from him for a second before returning. You hum softly, the faintest smirk and lean back in close. “Abbot.”

Jack groans low, right from the center of his chest and the sound makes you shiver as you stand up. “No no no, where do do you think you’re going? You don’t get to drop that and run.”

“Yes yes yes. We’re being summoned to cut the cake.” You nod over at where the wedding coordinator is waving you over. 

“Okay, well I’m going to need a minute here,” Jack huffs under his breath. 

“Oh?” You feign innocence. “Something the matter, dear?” Jack looks at you stone faced and shaking his head slightly. “Come on,” you hold your hands out for him. “Just stay behind me until you’re good.” 

“Alright, but don’t ‘accidentally’ lean back into me and rub your ass all over me.” Jack takes your hands and stands, walks a step behind you just to the side when you begin walking. 

“I would never, I can’t believe you’d accuse me of doing such a thing.” You click your tongue at him.

“Ha!” Jack scoffs a laugh. “You would, multiple times. And I’m serious, if you do I’ll have no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

You tilt your head and he can feel your smirk even if he can’t see it. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

“Oh that’s not a threat Doll,” Jack murmurs, all gravel and lust. He rests a hand on your hip once you arrive in front of the cake and squeezes. “It’s a promise.” 

You glance back up at him and the hunger he’s staring down at you with almost makes you say you need a minute and grab his hand and run to the nearest bathroom. Instead you just stare back at him for a moment before he nods to the cake and you turn back around. 

The cutting itself is fairly quick and easy. Jack’s steady emergency room physician hands are able to hold yours still as you cut into the cake and pull a slice out. He holds the plate as you each feed each other a little bite and kiss once you’re done. There’s no smashing of any kind, you know Jack would never and neither would you. It’s sweet and the love is palpable as your friends and family watch, photographer snapping away. 

The dance floor clears for the most part as everyone grabs cake and takes a breather. You and Jack take your piece and return back to your sweetheart table, but just about as soon as you’re finished you’re dragged back onto the dance floor together by Dana and Parker. 

You and Jack get a little separated but are still pretty close and it’s easy for you to dance your way back over to him. “Hey!” You give him a quick kiss to the cheek. “I’m going to the bathroom. It’ll take a second with the dress. Try not to have too much fun without me.” You wink at Jack before turning around and grabbing your friend’s hand for help with your dress. 

He watches you walk away and link arms with your friend, lean into each other as you walk and giggle together. Jack intends on slinking off the dance floor since he really only wants to be here with you. 

“Nope!” He’s caught by Santos and McKay. “She’ll be back soon enough, you can stay out here with us.” Santos raises her eyebrows at him almost as a little challenge and Jack rolls his eyes but lets them pull him back in. 

He’s always aware of you though, always wants to know where you are in case he needs to get to you immediately. So he sees when you walk out of the bathroom, you and your friend still giggling. He shakes his head and smiles at the two of you, focusing back where he is. 

But when your friend appears without you he looks around. He stops dancing without fully realizing it once he spots you. You’re sitting at a table with a bunch of the men from his unit and their significant others. You feel his gaze on you, you always do, and look over at him, give him a quick wave and a smile but don’t go to move at all, just return to your conversation. 

You had met them before the wedding since they all flew in a day early, had a nice dinner all together, so it’s not like they were literal strangers at your wedding. But still. You don’t have to be over there sitting with them and talking to them and getting to know them. Yet you are. Because like everyone else important in his life you want to do more than just know them cursorily. You want to be friends. You want them to know they’re just as important to you as they are to Jack. You want them to know that they can call you and you’ll help just like Jack would and that your and Jack’s place is open to them whenever they might need. 

“You good?” Dana yells over the music at Jack, grabs a hand to get him dancing again. He smiles and nods at her, his mind still on you and how amazing and perfect you are and how fucking lucky he is. 

A couple of songs pass and Jack watches you and a few of those who you’d been talking with make your way back to the dance floor. Jack manages to slip off the dance floor finally. He walks up to the DJ. “Can you play this song?” He shows the DJ his phone.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’ll play it next.”

“Perfect, thanks.” Jack smiles to himself as he moves around the dance floor to be close enough to you but far enough away that you don’t really see him as you dance.   

The current song ends and everyone is thrown for a second by the instrumental piano opening. It takes you five or six seconds to fully clock it, laughing to yourself and starting to look for Jack when you realize. 

He slips up right behind you, one hand on your waist as his front presses into your back. “Hi, Doll,” he murmurs, the cheeky grin he’s wearing clear in his voice. He presses a teasing kiss to your neck. 

You spin so that you’re chest to chest now, hands going just where they need to so that you can start slightly faster slow dancing. “Hi Peter.” You lean up for a quick kiss. “As Time Goes By. How coincidental.” You arch a brow at him in playful accusation.

“It felt right,” Jack admits to requesting it, shrugging, “since I wouldn’t sing it for you in Paris.” While other couples are dancing the two of you can feel lots of eyes on you. It’s clearly a song that’s playing specifically for you and Jack. He gives you a slightly sly smile and your brows raise in anticipation. “Of all the bookstores in all the towns in all the world, you walked into mine.” 

You press your lips together and smile as you hold back a laugh. “I can’t decide if that was really bad or really good.” You and Jack share a laugh. “It was very romantic. This whole thing, requesting the song and sneaking up behind me, because I know that was deliberate too,” you nod your head a little at him as you say it, “and the line.” Your eyes grow a little glassy at the sentiment. “I like to think we were fated too.” 

“I know we were,” Jack nods, “I know the world brought you to me on purpose.” His eyes are a little glassy now too. 

You push your lips out a little and Jack leans down to kiss you. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips. 

Jack hums a little laugh, lips pulling up into a smile against yours. “I love you too.”

The final hour or so of the wedding goes fast and yet slow. You and Jack both don’t want it to end but at the same time you’re a little desperate to finally be alone together for the night. It’s been a beautiful and perfect long day. Your and Jack’s perfect day. 

You say goodbye to everyone as they all walk over towards the car you and Jack will be leaving in. There’s hugs and a few tears and promises to see each other soon and text and call and send photos from the honeymoon. 

And then you and Jack are finally in the town car and being driven away. 

“That was really the perfect day,” you sigh as you lean into Jack. You’re happy that Robby was able to check you into the hotel earlier before the wedding and drop your stuff so that you and Jack can just run through the lobby to the elevators and get to your room as quick as possible.

“Yes it was.” Jack moves his arm around you and pulls you even closer. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You tilt your head up as Jack leans down and kisses you. 

It devolves so very quickly. You and Jack makeout effectively the entire rest of the way to the hotel. Jack gropes at your breasts over your dress, sucks bruises into your neck and collarbones and chest now that he finally can again. The last two weeks of being unable to mark you anywhere that could be visible in your dress were torturous even if he understood why and completely respected it. 

You undo another button of his shirt and kiss at his chest, lick your lips to wet your lipstick before you do so that you leave lip prints behind on his chest and his neck. You wrap your hand around Jack as best you can over his pants and rub at him. Both of you happily swallow down the quiet moans you pull from each other, knowing that the screen dividing you from the driver is not soundproof. 

“Do you want to stop?” you pant softly against Jack’s lips, moaning softly as he squeezes one of your breasts and nibbles at your jaw. 

“Why would I ever want to do that?” His lips are back on your neck the second he’s done speaking, kissing and sucking lightly, smiling to himself when you squirm a little from how good it feels. 

“So that you’re not hard walking to the elevator.” You barely get ‘elevator’ out before Jack’s back to kissing you. 

“If you think,” he pauses so that he can kiss you again, “that I’m going to be anything,” another kiss and a nip to your bottom lip, “other than painfully fucking hard for you,” another kiss, “until I’ve finally come inside of you,” Jack groans as your thumb flicks over his head in just the right spot, “come inside my fucking wife,” those words steal your breath even harder and Jack moves to suck on that spot on your neck he knows is extra sensitive, “you’re fucking insane Doll.” 

“Fuck, okay,” you gasp, as he sucks that spot again, “just wanted to check.” 

He hums a thank you against your lips and you continue like you are until the car starts to slow as you arrive at the hotel. Jack’s quick to slide out of the car and then help you out before you both make a walking sprint to the elevator, the late hour meaning the lobby is pretty much empty. You giggle to yourself as Jack presses you up against the wall of the elevator, your very own movie moment. He groans into your mouth in relief a little now that he can finally grind his hips against yours. 

Jack forces himself to pull away from you as the elevator slows to a stop. Robby already gave him instructions to the room so he doesn’t have to stop and read the signs. He laces your fingers together and leads you to the room, fishing the key from his pocket and opening the door. 

Even with as absolutely fucking wired as you both are for each other, the day catches up with you once you step in the room and see the bed in the honeymoon suite of the fancy downtown hotel you’re staying at for the night. You leave for your honeymoon tomorrow. You’re so fucking ready to know where you’re going. 

You’re both tired and there’s a bit of a lull in the making out and groping as you walk in and both look over the room, though Jack stands right behind you, hands squeezing your hips over your dress and keeping your ass flush against him. He sets both of your phones on the dresser next to you before you take a few more steps in so that you’re almost right at the edge of the bed.

“Can I?” Jack leans into you and murmurs against your neck, fingers running over the part of your dress that will let him start to take you out of it. 

“Please,” you breathe, voice shaking just slightly in anticipation. You had decided on no wedding lingerie that required changing, only what would fit under your dress. Jack wanted the opportunity to slowly strip you out of your wedding dress, said it’s something he’ll only get the chance to do once. And what you have on under your dress is pretty, very bridal, while still practical enough to get you through the wedding. But you have lots of lingerie for the honeymoon all in the carry-on suitcase you packed, including a pair of lacy underwear with his name embroidered in the gusset. 

Jack’s hands tremble a little as he starts to get your dress off you. He takes his time, every movement purposeful and designed to tease both of you a little bit, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your back, lips trailing along your spine and shoulders. He’s careful not to rip anything as he helps the dress fall down your figure and pulls it out from under you once you step out, helps you out of your shoes. He doesn’t let himself look up because he knows if he does he won’t lay your dress out nicely on the couch. You turn as he lays it on the couch so when he turns back to you Jack he’s met with your eyes on him. 

His eyes don’t stay on yours for long though, dropping down and running over your body, stopping for a second at the blue garter on your thigh. 

“I know it’s not proper wedding lingerie, except for the something blue. I suppose it is,” you laugh breathlessly. 

Jack shakes his head slowly. You’re unreal, far and away the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His cock strains against his boxer briefs painfully. “Fuck me,” he groans as he palms himself over his pants, desperate for any friction he can get. “You’re stunning.” Jack walks over to you, pulls his hand off himself only so that he can get his hands on you, let them glide over your bare skin.

“Your turn.” Your trembling hands come to the buttons at Jack’s chest and start unbuttoning them, a few a little more difficult when your hands shake worse as Jack squeezes at your ass and one of your breasts. He pops the clasp of your bra as you finish the last button of his shirt, both of you shrugging out of the items and tossing them aside. Your eyes rake over his chest and arms, pussy throbbing as you do. He’s so handsome you can hardly stand it. “You’re so perfect, Jack.”

You lick your lips to wet your lipstick again and kiss at his collarbones and chest as your nails drag lightly down his stomach. “Fuck,” Jack grunts at the sensation. He rolls one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and kneads at your other breast as your fingers get his belt and pants undone. 

You hook your thumbs in the waistbands of his pants and boxer briefs, rewet your lips and slowly kiss down his stomach and leave lip prints in your wake. “Doll,” Jack husks as you sink to your knees. 

Once you settle on them your thumbs finally drag Jack’s pants and boxer briefs down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach as he shivers. “Peter,” you sigh back at him as you take him in your hand and slowly pump him. Your mouth kisses around the base of him, his balls and inner thighs and lines of his hips, lip prints decorating his skin as Jack groans loudly, eyes unable to leave you. “See?” Your breath fans across his skin as you look up at him through your lashes. “It is your color here.” 

Jack chokes on the laugh your words pull for him when you take his head in your mouth, humming happily as you swirl your tongue around him before taking more of him. “Fucking christ!” Jack grunts, lets his head tip back and eyes flutter closed to focus on the feeling of you bobbing up and down him. 

You hum around him at times, usually when you pull another deep groan from him. You love having Jack in your mouth. Few things make you feel as powerful and sexy. 

Jack’s close. He’s been wound tight for you all day, especially since after the ceremony. He lowers his head back down and opens his eyes. Two fingers hook under your chin. “Up.” 

You pull off him and pout. “Jack,” you whine a little. “Wanna make you come like this.” 

“Next time.” He offers you his hands which you take and stand up. Jack kisses you hard. “The first place I’m coming for my wife is inside her,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Fuck,” you whimper as Jack starts kissing you again. 

“On the bed,” Jack instructs as he pulls his lips off yours. “If you have anything in your hair, take it out so it won’t hurt you.” You do as he asks, situating your hair and then crawling to the middle of the bed and leaning back on your hands so you can watch him. Jack gets his shoes off and then gets on the bed on his knees. He grabs your feet and holds them up, lips finding one of your ankles and starting to kiss up the inside of your legs, head moving back and forth between both legs until he grows closer to the garter. 

His lips stay on the thigh it’s on, kissing around it. “It’s very pretty,” he murmurs, lips teasing your skin. 

“I thought you’d like it,” you pant.

“Love it Doll.” Jack nibbles at the skin of your inner thigh just below your garter and then takes the material between his teeth and pulls it down off your leg. 

“Fuck Jack!” you moan. It’s such a simple move but the way he keeps his eyes on yours the entire time makes it one of the most erotic things he’s ever done for you. 

He’s quick to make his way back up you, grabs the waistband of your underwear and quickly gets them off. You think he’s going to settle with his face in between your thighs but he doesn’t. He nods at you and you lay back on the bed while he kisses up your tummy and chest, stopping to lavish your breasts with attention from his mouth and hands. “Fucking love your tits,” Jack groans against one of your nipples. You thread your hands through his hair and tug a little as your back arches at the feeling of his tongue swirling around it.  

“Jack, please,” you beg, for what you’re not sure. He just feels too good, his hot skin that’s pressing against yours and his mouth on your breasts. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, “I’ve always got you Doll.” Jack kisses his way up your chest to your neck and jaw and then finally your lips. Your legs spread further apart for him and as he makes his way up his right hand slides down and slips between your lips. Jack feels how wet you are the second his middle finger hits your clit. “You’re fucking soaked,” he rasps against your lips, fingers still moving down to feel just how wet you really are. 

“I have been all night,” you admit through a little moan, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit as his fingers tease your cunt, circling around your entrance but never slipping inside. “For my husband. Have needed you all night.”

“Yeah?” Jack pulls back from you a little. “I’ve needed you too.” His hand pulls away from you and you whine at loss. Jack offers you his index and middle finger, the two most coated in you. You maintain eye contact as you open your mouth and let him slide them inside before you suck them clean, running your tongue up and down each finger, moaning softly. Jack’s hips grind into you without conscious thought, his cock hard and heavy against you. “Such a good girl for me,” he coos as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Let me taste you.”

Jack kisses you, licking into your mouth and groaning as he tastes you on your tongue. He shifts a little as he devours you, kissing you with just the right pressure to tease. He doesn’t stop kissing you as the fingers of his left hand trail down you and make you shiver. He’s careful how he does it, keeps all but his fingertips off you until his middle and ring finger tease you again, pressing into you shallowly and withdrawing a few times. “Please Jack!” you keen for him. “Please, need it, need you.”

“Okay, Doll.” Jack’s lips are back on yours as he arches his wrist a little further and slides his two fingers all the way inside of you, curling them perfectly over that spongy spot inside of you.

And you feel it. The cool press of metal against the outside of your pussy. “Jack!” you gasp his name, fingers tugging even harder at the salt and pepper curls you love so much. 

“Yes Doll?” He smirks at you, fingers dragging back out of you before plunging right back in. 

“Your- oh!” Jack steals your breath and your train of thought as he changes his pace and hooks his fingers just a little bit more, fucks you with them a little harder. “Your ring, your wedding ring. I can feel it.” 

“Can you?” Jack hums at you, “Well how about that?” You whimper at his words, know he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. He kisses you again but it doesn’t last particularly long because the feeling of his ring against you and his fingers fucking you perfectly completely steals your ability to kiss him back in any meaningful way, your mouth hanging open a bit as you let out breathy higher pitched moans with each pass of Jack’s fingers. 

“Jack I need you inside me,” you rush out in a single exhale, still moaning intermittently. “Need it. Your cock. Not your fingers. Please.” One of your hands grabs at the wrist of his left hand to still him. And Jack does stop, smirking a little at your desperation. You take a few breaths before looking Jack in the eyes. “First place I’m coming for my husband is on his cock.”

Jack stills and growls at your words as he pulls his fingers from you, rolling a bit so that he’s back properly on top of you and not rolled to the side slightly. He should have seen that one coming, he set himself right up for it with what he said to you. Jack doesn’t offer you his fingers this time, bringing them to his own mouth and sucking them clean. “God!” he groans as he finishes. “You taste so fucking good. My wife tastes so fucking good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod at him, hands slipping between your bodies and grabbing at his cock, trying in vain to guide him inside of you. “Fuck me Jack, please. Fuck your wife!” Your words make Jack shudder. He pulls back so he can watch as he runs his cock through you, letting out a shuddering breath as he does. “Jack, I need you,” you whine at him. 

“I know, Doll, I know. I need you too.” Jack takes himself in his hand and watches as he lines himself up. His chest heaves slightly as he drags his eyes back up to yours and then pushes into you almost agonizingly slow. “Fuck,” Jack draws the word out as slow as he pushes inside of you, both of you fighting through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. 

“Oh, Jack” you moan softly, “more, please more.” 

Jack groans as he leans down and kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip and pulling it taut as you flutter around him. “Shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he pants against your lips. “My perfect wife.” His arms slip under your shoulders so his hands can cradle your face as he pulls his hips back just as slow as he pushed into you. 

“My husband.” Your lips graze his as you breathe the words out. You roll your hips in tandem with Jack so that he’s fucking you a little harder, cunt wrapping around him so tight Jack swears it takes a little more force to pull himself out of you. “Fuck Jack!” you mewl, one hand clawing at his shoulder and the other at his ass cheek for a moment before your fingers squeeze at his muscle.

Jack hisses at the feeling, kissing you passionately, tongue exploring your mouth as though he doesn’t already have you memorized. He keeps his pace languid for now, wants to drag this out for the both of you. You love it, wouldn't have it any other way right now as you drown in Jack and his love and this moment.

The room is filled with the lewd wet sound of your pussy and heavy pants against skin as Jack ceases his greediness and lets your tongue into his mouth. He instinctively chuckles a little with how eagerly you take advantage of the opportunity, head lifting off the bed a little for a few seconds as you kiss him.   

As much as he doesn’t want to Jack pulls apart so you both can breathe. “What are you?” He asks through heaving breaths, eyes reflecting how on fire he is for you, practically pinning you to the bed. “Tell me what you are.” 

“Your- fuck Jack!” He changes his rhythm on you just slightly and it has you stuttering. “Your, your wife.” Tears of pleasure start to burn behind your eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises you, words pulling a loud moan from you just like he knew they would. Jack fucks you with his whole body, hunched over and using his hips and back and thighs to drive himself into you, muscles rippling under your fingertips. He can’t get deep enough, can’t feel enough of you, can’t be close enough to you. “That’s fucking right you are. My wife. All fucking mine.” 

“Say it for me,” you plead with Jack, tears of pleasure finally dripping down the sides of your face. “Tell me what you are.” 

Jack laughs softly against your lips as he pulls your legs up around his waist to change the angle. “Your husband,” he rasps at your ear. “I’m your husband.”  

You whine as he says it, trail off into a breathy moan of his name. “Jack!” Your nails claw into his skin, leaving trails of red marks in their wake as one hand slides down his back and the other up his ass cheek to his hip, pulling a choked groan from the back of Jack’s throat. “I’m so close. So close baby, please!” It’s not often you call him baby, and something about the word always makes him short circuit a bit. 

He picks his pace up, snaps his hips a bit harder, sucking and nibbling at your neck as he buries his face there for a moment as he gets lost in the feeling of you, breath hot against your skin. Fucking you and making love to you is always mindblowing, but this is different, this has an edge, for both of you. Because you’re married. Because it feels like your first time all over again in a way. 

“Just like that, yes! Don’t stop!” you moan, voice high-pitched and breathy.

Jack’s just as desperate for your orgasm as you are, breath heavy and hot against your lips. “Come for me Doll, come for me.” Jack’s voice is strained with his desperation, hips driving him into you over and over while his fingers circle your clit. “Come on my cock, come on your husband’s cock. Make me come.” 

“I will, I will,” you cry for him, eyes fluttering closed and sending more tears down your face as the pleasure overwhelms you and builds to a breaking point.

“Look at me,” Jack pants, voice cracking on the last word. “Look at me while you come for your husband.” You force your eyes open and Jack’s staring down at you intensely. “Be my good little wife and come for me.”

His command and the way he’s looking at you like he needs you so desperately he’d do anything for you, like you’re the only thing that matters, like the most beautiful and precious thing to him that he has to protect, and like he needs this, you to come, are more than enough to make you shatter beneath him.

“Jack!” You get a single cry of his name out before all words fall out of your mind, completely overwhelmed by Jack, by your husband, as your orgasm sears through what feels like every nerve in your body. Your nails drag along Jack’s back so hard you might have broken skin in a few places but he doesn’t care, it just shoves him closer to the edge. “Oh fuck Jack, please!” you moan once words return, again unsure of what you’re begging him for.

“Shit! So fucking tight”! Jack struggles to hold himself off, does only for thirty or so seconds so that he can drink in your face as you come for him while he fucks you through it. “My wife’s so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me.” He pulls his hand away from your clit before you hit painful overstimulation. “Fuck, Doll, I’m gonna come, pussy’s squeezing me so tight, gonna come for you, fill you up, and you’ll be so good for me and take it all.” He starts to babble and his hips start to falter, a clear sign he’s right at the edge. 

“Come for me Jack,” you purr at him, hands threading back into his hair and tugging at the root just to give him a little shock of pain opposite the pleasure how you know he loves. You’re looking at Jack much the same as he looked at you, like you love him so much it hurts sometimes, like you’d walk straight through a wall of flames for him. Your love overwhelms him, you overwhelm him. And then you say it as a soft moan and he’s gone. “Come for your wife.”

Jack comes with the most erotic, carnal groan of your name that you’ve ever heard from him. His orgasm rips through him, tears through him so intensely it steals his breath for a moment before a slurry of curse words and my wife and so perfect fall off his tongue like a hymn he’s composed just for you. His hips still but you roll yours up against him and clench around him deliberately. “Fucking shit, Doll! Fuck!” Jack groans, voice and neck and face strained as you prolong his orgasm, somehow pull a bit more cum from him. 

“Feels so good when you come in me,” you hum all pleasure-drunk and breathy at Jack. Your face matches your voice. You look so fucked out and beautiful below him, his girl. His woman. His wife. 

“Oh fuck!” Jack grunts, a shiver running up his spine hard as an aftershock hits him. “Fuck, Doll, you’re so fucking good.” He collapses on top of you carefully. 

You tremble under him a little, arms and legs wrapping around him and holding him to you tight. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Abbot.” It’s almost a little slurred as you come back down from your orgasm.

Another shiver races up Jack’s spine at doctor. “Never had a title kink before you.” His lips brush against your chest as he speaks before nuzzling against you. It’s not the first time he’s told you that, but you still love to hear it.

You can only hum in acknowledgment, let your hands find his hair and run through his curls, scratch at his scalp intermittently. The two of you lay there in a comfortable silence, murmuring soft words to each other. Jack nuzzles into you and kisses at your chest wherever he can reach, enjoys listening to your heartbeat and how it slowly returns to something closer to normal. 

After a while Jack nuzzles into your chest one last time before pulling his head up. You open your eyes knowing he’ll be looking down at you. He’s smiling when he comes into focus. “How’s my wife?”

“I’m pretty fucking great,” you murmur, blissed out smile on your face. “Feeling very, very well and thoroughly fucked by my husband. A little sleepy.” You bring your hand up and run your fingers through Jack’s curls, push back a few that sweat has stuck to his forehead. “How’s my husband?”

Jack chuckles at you. You’re so adorable when you’re all fucked out like this. “Oh, I’m pretty fucking great too, Doll.” He leans down and kisses you. “Feeling very, very lucky to call you my wife. And I’m with you on the sleepy.” 

You already know what he’s going to say based on the look on his face. “No!” you whine, wrap your arms and legs around him tight. “Let’s just stay right here. It’ll be fine this one time, we can just curl up like this and fall asleep.”

Jack laughs and shakes his head at you. “I’m not sure now’s the time to risk it, baby. You don’t want to start our honeymoon with a UTI.” He takes another kiss. “And we both know you’ll be upset with yourself in the morning if you don’t take all your makeup off. Plus I should really wipe the lipstick off.” 

You groan but loosen your grip on him when he pulls away, both of you hissing a little as he slips out of you. Jack holds his hands out for you and helps you up and off the bed. His hands find a hip and your waist quickly once you’re standing, ready to grab you and keep you from falling if your legs are too weak. You lean into him for just a second while you get your legs steady back under you and then nod at Jack. 

He keeps an arm around your waist anyway, just to keep you close. You realize step into the bathroom and Jack flicks the light on, leads you over to the toilet. He walks to the sink as you go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and wiping the lipstick from his skin. 

You join him when you’re done, washing your hands as he washes his face. You make a face of consideration as he pats his face dry. “I could just leave it for one night, I’m tired.”

Jack shakes his head at you and you know he’s right, you’re just not in the mood. It’s been a long day and you just want to curl up in bed with your husband. Jack puts a towel on the sink counter, and pats it. “Up.” 

You debate fighting him because you know what’s about to happen. But you also know that Jack loves this part and it’s not something that happens frequently because you normally take your makeup off as soon as you get home. You slide yourself onto the towel as Jack pulls out your makeup remover wipes from the toiletry bag you packed. “Probably going to have to scrub pretty good,” you tell him, “she used the good setting spray.” 

Jack nods as he starts to wipe your face. “Very good setting spray,” he notes absentmindedly as he works. He does have to use more pressure than normal. “Tell me if I start hurting you.” 

“I will, but you won’t.” You give him a sleepy smile and Jack’s heart aches with how cute you are. 

Once he’s gotten everything off your face he’s weary as he eyes your lashes. “Are these the lashes designed to stay on or? How do I get them off?”

“You’re so cute,” you giggle at him, beaming at him because they’re such Jack questions. He’s always curious, especially when it comes to you and things he can do to take care of you. 

“What?” he drags the word out. “I don’t want to accidentally rip off all your eyelashes!”

“I know, you’re just the cutest, wanting to know. Caring enough to want to know.” You push your lips out and he gives you the quick kiss you’re seeking. “These ones aren’t designed to stay on, no. There’s some cotton balls and makeup remover in the bag. Just put some on two of them and hold them on for a minute and they should peel right off.”

“Can do, Doll.” Jack nods. He does and goes to take them off but hesitates. “Okay, maybe you should at least do one. So I can see.” 

Even with your eyes closed you smirk. “See one, do one, teach one?” Jack huffs at you and you know he’s rolling his eyes. “You have to admit that was pretty good.” You slowly peel one off. 

“It was,” Jack agrees with fake begrudging. He loves it. Loves how you listen and really take in what he says whether it’s when he’s directly speaking to you or if you happen to be watching him from just within earshot at work. “Okay. Please tell me if you feel me pulling your actual lashes.” 

“Were you this scared when you first did sutures on someone?” 

“Doll.”

“Yes, yes I’ll tell you,” you reassure him.

“Okay.” Jack grabs the other lash and pulls it off without issue, like you knew he would. 

“See? Nothing to it.” You squint at him to avoid getting the makeup remover in your eyes. “We’ll make you a makeup artist yet, Peter.” Your squinting kills any power the smirk you try to give him might have had.

He ignores your comment with a little shake of his head and smile. “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t because you spend time practicing on fake skin before you go to a real human.”

You hum at him and slip off the counter. It’s going to be easier and quicker for you to wash your face and brush your teeth. “Thank you. For taking my makeup off and learning about eyelashes for me. I love you.” You wrap your arms around the middle of him and rest your head on his chest. 

“Always, Doll.” Jack bows his head and leans a little to press his lips to the top of your head. “And I love you too.” 

The two of you stand like that for a moment before you pull away and quickly wash your face before you and Jack brush your teeth at the same time. You say fuck it to your skin care for one night and just put some face lotion on, offer some to Jack. Once you’re done Jack turns around and after a second you do too. 

Your stomach drops a little. “Oh my god Jack!” His back is covered in scratches from your nails that are really more raised welts at this point. It looks incredibly painful and your head starts to spin because you feel so bad for doing that to him.

“What?” He spins quickly, brows furrowed and lips pulled down, concern all over his face. 

“Your back! That’s what!” You gesture with your finger and he spins for you again. “Jack, it has to hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?”

He turns back to look at you. He doesn’t like your expression, the sadness in your eyes and your frown and the way your brows are furrowed so close together. You’re upset and Jack can tell your mind is starting to swirl. “Hey, hey hey. I promise you I didn’t even notice. I promise. I wouldn’t have even known if you hadn’t said anything.”

“But Jack, it’s bad. I did a good number to you. They’re welts, not just scratches.” Your frown deepens. 

He steps closer to you and cups your face with his hands. “Doll, I promise you it felt so fucking good when you were making them in the moment but they haven’t bothered me at all since.” 

“You promise?” you whisper. You know he would never lie to you and you can see the earnestness in his eyes. It slows your mind, as do his hands holding your face.

“I promise.” He nods. His eyes drop to your neck and chest, hands letting go of your face. “Have you really looked in the mirror yet Doll?”

“Kind of?” Your brows are still drawn together but Jack’s relieved it’s in confusion this time and that your upset has faded. 

“You should. Because I did a good number on your neck and chest too,” Jack grimaces a little. “And it feels much worse than some scratches now that I’m really looking at them.”

You turn and look in the mirror. “Oh,” you breathe. Jack’s head starts to spin now. But then a smile grows on your face. “I love this.” You run your fingertips over some of them. 

“What?” Jack gives a small incredulous laugh. 

You turn around to look at him and see the way he’s still spinning out a little like you were. “Jack, I love this shit. I love wearing your marks. And you gave me them as my husband and I get to have them on our honeymoon.”

“They’ll darken and be worse tomorrow.” He still eyes you a little wearily. 

You meet his eyes in the mirror, can see he’s still spinning out a little like you were. “Good. I hope they get darker the day after that.”

“Yeah?” It’s the same as you asking if he promised. He knows you wouldn’t lie and can tell you’re not but he just needs to hear it again. 

“Yeah.” You nod with a small smile. “Very fucking yeah.”

That makes him crack a smile, yours widening in turn, his mind slowing. You turn back to face him. “Are they going to be all on display for the honeymoon?” You press yourself up against him. 

Jack laughs. You’re trying to get a hint as to where you’re going on your honeymoon, hoping he’ll answer and it’ll give you insight as to whether you’ll be spending a lot of time with your chest not covered by a shirt in a swimsuit. 

He gives you a self-satisfied grin and you start pouting before he even says anything. “That’s for me to know and you to find out babygirl.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately but it turns into a big yawn that has you covering your mouth. Jack laughs softly. “Come on sleepy girl, lets get into bed.” He fights back his own yawn while following you as you walk back to bed, flicking the light off. 

You climb in under the covers while Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes his prosthetic off. Once it’s off he flips the lamp off and slides in beside you, hands on your waist and pulling you close as you move toward him. You snuggle together on your sides, limbs tangling as you get as close as possible while still able to see each other. “Hi handsome.” You smile up at Jack and kiss up his chest and neck to his lips. 

“Hi beautiful,” Jack murmurs against your lips. “My beautiful wife. Today was pretty perfect.” Jack takes another couple of kisses from you before pulling away and looking back at you. He swallows thickly. “A little surreal. We’re married.” He’s not dwelling, he’s really not.

But Jack lived in a world where he never even got to ask you to marry him, where he wore his dress blues not to wait for you at the end of an aisle on an altar but to watch them lower you six feet into the ground, even if it was only in his mind. He just has to acknowledge it one last time. It makes him appreciate this, appreciate you all the more. 

“Sure was. My handsome husband.” You giggle against Jack’s lips. “But it’s real. We’re married.” You look at Jack and smile as he smiles back at you. 

Your smiles and crinkles in the corners of your eyes say everything to each other. Thank you, you’re perfect, you’re my best friend and soulmate and the love of my life, you’re my everything, my whole world and my home, I meant every word I said today and will be faithful to the vows we took. I love you. 

Your eyelids get heavy fast as Jack’s warmth seeps into you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You can only fight it for so long as it gets harder and harder to open your eyes with every slow blink. There’s so much you want to say to him even now at the end of your wedding day when it feels like you’ve already said it all to each other. But there’s no way you’ll get anything coherent out. So you kiss Jack one more time and settle for the words you hope convey it all.

“I love you, Peter.” 

Jack hums a little laugh to himself because you’re adorable and precious and beautiful and his. His wife.

“I love you more, Doll.”

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

If you made it this far, again, thank you so so much! I hope you enjoyed this part and the series. As much as this is the end of the kind of main story, I don’t think this is truly the end for them. Certainly I have a whole list of other ideas that I’d like to work through first, but I have a couple of ideas for shorter one-shot style fics for these two. If you have anything in particular you'd like to see from them feel free to drop me a note wherever!! And I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on Part 5 and their ending!♥️

Quiet Part 2 is up next. I should have more free time this week and don't plan on making those parts as long so hopefully something will be out towards the end of the week!

Also, a huge huge shoutout to @loveyhoneydovey for beta-ing at times, talking me off a thousand ledges per part, and listening to me go on and on about these two and different ideas. This story is better because of your help. ♥️

Want more Jack? Find my masterlist here!

If you'd like to be added to my Jack tag list please interact with this post!

Tag list:

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[lazysoulwriter]

only hers. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: Pedro Pascal x established relationship!reader, long-distance feels, Cannes setting, soft gift from a fan, FaceTime call, pure love, emotional reunion energy, a man so in love it hurts

---

You hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

One of those cruel work stretches — the kind you used to fantasize about avoiding when you first moved in together. You'd promised: no matter what, we’ll make time. But no one tells you how busy life gets when both your dreams are coming true.

Time zones stopped syncing. Schedules clashed. FaceTime calls were short, sleepy, often interrupted. Texts became quick check-ins that ended with the same bittersweet words: “I miss you more than I can say.”

But Cannes was louder than distance.

Pedro was there for his film’s premiere, wrapped in satin lapels and that signature warmth he carried no matter how polished the setting. The night glowed — flashbulbs, velvet ropes, long stairs, champagne glasses held just-so. He smiled, posed, gave the press what they wanted.

But something was missing. Or rather — someone.

He felt it in the back of his throat every time someone asked him, “Who are you here with?” and he had to say, “Just me tonight.” He felt it in the hotel mirror, adjusting his tie alone. He felt it most when he was standing still — because that’s when he always wanted your hand in his.

And then, as he was signing posters outside the Palais, it happened.

A fan — sweet-faced, with a nervous smile — handed him a small velvet pouch along with a Polaroid to sign. “This is for you,” she said, voice soft. “It has her name. Because… I don’t know, you two make love look possible.”

Pedro blinked, caught off-guard. “What?”

She just smiled. “It’s nothing big. Just something nice.”

Inside was a delicate bracelet — a slim cord in black, with a tiny golden charm in the middle. Your name. Engraved in careful cursive. Not flashy. Not loud. Just you.

He swallowed, already smiling before he even slipped it on.

He couldn’t stop looking at it.

The rest of the night blurred past in a daze of interviews and red carpet questions, but his thumb kept brushing the charm like a nervous habit. He found comfort in it. In you — even this small piece of you.

His chest ached, but in a good way. In a real way.

He called you that night.

It was past midnight in France, and even later where you were. But you answered on the second ring, blurry-eyed in your robe, hair twisted into a messy bun, smile blooming the moment you saw his face on the screen.

“Hi, amor,” you murmured.

“Hey.” He shifted the camera slightly and held up his wrist. “Look what I got.”

You squinted, leaned in — then gasped. “Wait… is that—? Is that my name?”

He turned the charm toward the light so you could see it clearer. “A fan gave it to me. Said we give people hope.”

You blinked at the screen, caught between laughter and tears. “We do, huh?”

“You do,” he said, voice soft. “I just orbit around you.”

“Pedro…” you whispered, pressing your fingers to your lips, then to the screen.

He exhaled, like he’d been holding it in all day. “I miss you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“I know. Me too.” Your voice cracked just a little.

“I wanted you to see this before I fell asleep.” His voice was getting slower, lower — the kind of softness that only came out when he was tired and full of love. “I’ve been holding it all night. Like I can hold you through it.”

You were quiet for a beat, studying him. “You look tired.”

He nodded. “I just want you here.”

“I will be. Soon.”

He smiled faintly. “I know. But until then…”

He lifted his wrist again, eyes on the charm — your name — glowing in the dim hotel light.

“…I’ll wear you.”

You felt your heart squeeze.

And even from a thousand miles away, you knew — You’d never been loved quite like this.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

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[meadowfics]

favoritism

father!husband!kang dae ho x f!wife!mother!reader

apart of the kang family series

daeho feels the need to talk to you after an observation he has made

warnings: mentions of favoritism towards children, childhood trauma, mentions of the squid games referred to as 'death games', argument/disagreements, huge angst but resolved in the end.

authors note: this is the second, “kang family” story release today :) i immediately wrote this one a few days ago after the previous one. i am obsessed with this universe ive grown lol

a soft hum of the water runs into the baby tub in the bathroom, steam curling lazily in the warm air. you sat on a small stool by the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled up, carefully cradling byeol’s tiny body as she splashed her chubby hands in the water. 

she let out a delighted babble, her round cheeks resembling yours flushed pink from the warmth, her tiny toes kicking and sending droplets of water onto your lap.

“that’s my baby girl,” you cooed, a wide smile spreading across your face as byeol squealed, her little hands grasping at the floating rubber ducky. the baby’s fine hair stuck to her forehead, water dripping down her soft skin, and you couldn't help but smile at how much she had grown. 

byeol is almost five months now.  

it was bittersweet.  

just yesterday, it felt like you had brought her home from the hospital, so tiny and fragile in your arms. now, she was babbling more, lifting her head proudly during tummy time, and you had just started introducing her to baby food…soft, pureed textures. it iss thrilling watching her grow, but the ache in your chest reminded you that time was slipping through your fingers faster than you wanted.  

“you’re doing so good, byeol,” you whispered, your heart swelling with love as she giggled, splashing water up onto your arms.  

you were so focused on her that you didn’t notice the soft footsteps padding toward the bathroom door.  

“eomma?”  

the small, gentle voice pulled you from your thoughts. you turned your head and saw seo-ah standing by the doorway, still in her daycare clothes…her favorite pink dress now a little wrinkled, her hair pulled into two uneven pigtails from her teacher’s attempt to fix them after playtime. 

she held her crayon box tightly in her hands, her coloring book tucked under one arm.  

“hi, baby,” you said, smiling at her, “did you have fun at daycare?”  

she nodded, stepping closer to the doorway but not entering the bathroom. 

“yeah! we learned about flowers today. we were given coloring books and... i want to color with you.” she lifted the crayon box a little higher, her small face hopeful.  

your heart tugged, but you glanced down at byeol, who was starting to get fussy in the tub, her little hands rubbing her tired eyes.  

“sweetheart, can we do it later?” you asked gently, reaching for the washcloth to rinse byeol. 

“i need to finish giving byeol her bath, and then i have to feed her, okay?”  

you saw the flicker of disappointment cross seo-ah’s face, but she covered it with a small smile, hugging her coloring book tighter. 

“okay…”  

“i promise we’ll color later, just you and me,” you reassured her, though your mind was already on the growing list of things you had to get done.  

seo-ah nodded, though her voice was quieter this time. 

“okay, eomma.”  

she didn’t leave right away. instead, she lingered by the bathroom door, watching as you continued to bathe byeol. you giggled as byeol splashed the water again, her little legs kicking in excitement, her babbles loud and happy. 

your eyes sparkled with pure joy as you gently cupped water over her tiny head, your voice soft and sweet as you spoke to her. seo-ah hugged her coloring book tighter to her chest, her small fingers clutching the crayon box. 

she noticed the way you smiled so brightly at byeol, how your eyes were filled with happiness.  

she waited patiently in the hallway, sitting down with her crayon box next to her. she opened it, picking out her favorite purple crayon and starting to color on a blank page, hoping you’d come join her soon.  

you didn’t.  

after finishing byeol’s bath, you swaddled her in a soft towel, her tired little face resting against your chest as you hummed to her, not noticing seo-ah still sitting quietly just outside the bathroom.  

down the hall, dae-ho was in his office, focused on his work. the sound of his keyboard clicking echoed softly, his headset perched over his ears as he managed a few customer service calls. he had been buried in tasks all afternoon, unaware of the little moments unfolding by his office door.  

while you were too wrapped up in byeol’s routine, and dae-ho was focused on his work, seo-ah sat there, waiting…her crayon strokes slowing as she looked down at the half-colored page.  

she was patient. she was always patient. however, the small ache inside her chest grew a little heavier as she realized you had forgotten.

the next day, it was late afternoon when seo-ah burst through the front door, her little shoes clumsily kicked off at the entrance as she clutched a bright, mini soccer ball in her hands. the girl’s face was lit up with excitement, her pigtails bouncing as she ran into the living room where you were kneeling on the floor, changing byeol’s diaper.  

“eomma! look what i got from daycare!” she exclaimed, holding the ball high above her head like a trophy.  

you glanced up, a soft smile spreading across your face at the sight of her glowing with happiness. 

“wow, baby! that’s so cool! did your teacher give that to you?”  

she nodded eagerly, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“yeah! we played soccer today and it was so fun! i wanna show you how to play!”  

your heart warmed at her enthusiasm, but at that moment, you were still in the middle of changing byeol, who was wiggling and kicking her chubby legs, her tiny fists waving in the air. you wiped her clean and tried to keep her calm as she squirmed beneath you.  

“that sounds so fun, seo-ah,” you replied, fastening byeol’s diaper and grabbing the soft pink onesie nearby. 

“can we play in the backyard a little later? i need to finish changing byeol first, and then wait until she goes down for her nap. afterwards, we can have the whole backyard to ourselves.”  

seo-ah’s excitement dimmed slightly, but she still smiled, her fingers gripping the ball tightly. 

“okay, eomma. we can wait.”  

you gave her a quick smile before focusing back on byeol, pulling her arms through the onesie sleeves while trying to quiet her soft babbles. seo-ah sat down nearby, rolling the soccer ball back and forth between her hands, patiently waiting.  

after finally settling byeol down for her nap, you found yourself moving straight into preparing dinner. the pots clanged as you worked in the kitchen, the smell of garlic and onions filling the air as you chopped vegetables and stirred the broth on the stove.  

dae-ho entered the kitchen, slipping off his watch and placing it on the counter as he glanced over at you, now focused entirely on dinner. 

“smells amazing in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist for a brief moment before reaching into the fridge for a drink of water.  

“thanks,” you smiled, stirring the pot, “i wanted to get dinner done early before the girls wake up. figured it would be easier.”  

then, you felt a soft tug on your sweater.  

“eomma?”  

you turned to see seo-ah standing there, holding the mini soccer ball against her chest, her hopeful eyes matching daeho’s looking up at you.  

“byeol’s asleep now… can we play soccer?”  

you felt your heart sink slightly, realizing you had completely forgotten about your promise. you glanced back at the stove, the pot bubbling gently, and sighed.  

“oh, sweetheart… i’m in the middle of making dinner right now. can we play after we eat?”  

seo-ah’s face fell, just for a second, before she quickly masked it with a small nod. 

“okay, eomma.”  

before she could walk away, dae-ho, who had been watching the exchange silently, knelt down beside her, offering her a warm smile.  

“hey, baby, how about appa plays soccer with you while mommy finishes cooking? i bet i can show you some really cool soccer moves.”  

seo-ah hesitated, her fingers tightening around the ball. she wanted to play, she really did, but her small shoulders slumped ever so slightly, seoah’s disappointment is hard to hide.  

“okay, appa,” she agreed, though her voice was softer now.  

dae-ho ruffled her hair gently, sensing her sadness. 

“come on, let’s go to the backyard. we’ll play until dinner’s ready.”  

you watched them head out to the backyard together, a pang of guilt washing over you as you stirred the pot. you saw how her little shoulders drooped, even as she followed dae-ho outside, clutching the ball. she wanted you to be the one to play with her.  

you hadn’t realized how often lately you’d been saying “later.”

within the same week, the house filled with the soft hum of the television playing in the background. you had finally found a moment to relax, and byeol was lying on a soft blanket on the floor, her chubby little legs kicking wildly in the air as she babbled, her tiny hands grabbing at nothing in particular.

you leaned over her, smiling wide, feeling the pure joy of the moment. 

“who’s my happy girl, huh? who’s my ticklish little baby?” you cooed, lowering your head to her tiny belly and blowing raspberries against her soft skin.

byeol squealed with laughter, her giggles echoing through the room, her arms flailing in delight. you couldn’t help but laugh too, the sound so pure and full of love.  

unnoticed, seo-ah stood a few feet away, clutching her favorite stuffed bunny tightly against her chest. daeho’s twin and her big brown eyes sparkled with hope as she watched you play with byeol. 

the girl’s little heart fluttered with excitement, thinking maybe it would be her turn next. she loved when you used to play like that with her, making her laugh so hard she couldn’t breathe. she inched closer, waiting patiently, her tiny hands gripping the bunny tighter.  

unfortunately, her turn never came.

after finishing with the belly raspberries, you scooped byeol into your arms, cradling her close, and settled onto the couch. you giggled as byeol nuzzled into your chest, her tiny fists grabbing at your shirt, completely focused on her.

“you’re such a sweet girl,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft hair.  

seo-ah stood there, staring for a moment, before climbing up onto the couch beside you. she nestled herself against your side, sitting upright, her bunny still in her lap, waiting for you to pull her into your arms too.  

you didn’t.

your focus stayed on byeol, cooing and smiling down at the baby in your arms, completely unaware of how seo-ah sat silently, feeling like a bystander in her own family.

after a few minutes, seo-ah quietly slipped off the couch, her feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor as she padded down the hallway. she wandered into dae-ho’s office, where he was seated at his desk, typing away on his laptop. the man’s headset rested around his neck, signaling that he was taking a short break.  

he looked up as she entered, his face instantly softening. 

“hey, my big girl!” he smiled, closing his laptop. 

“come here.”

seo-ah shuffled over to him, her bunny still clutched tightly. dae-ho scooped her up into his lap, settling her comfortably against his chest.

“how’s my seo-ah doing?” he asked, brushing some stray hairs from her face.

“i’m okay,” she replied softly, her voice quieter than usual.

he tilted his head, sensing that something was off. 

“just okay? not great?”  

she hesitated before speaking again. 

“appa... can i ask you something?”  

daeho’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in her voice. 

“of course, baby. you can ask me anything.”  

seo-ah’s fingers twisted around her bunny’s ear as she stared down at her lap. after a moment, she whispered, “will eomma ever love me again?”  

dae-ho’s entire body froze, his heart dropping into his stomach.  

“what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, though he tried to keep it steady.  

“eomma... she always plays with byeol. she holds her all the time, but not me,” seo-ah’s small voice trembled. 

“i just… i miss when she used to play with me.”  

dae-ho felt a lump forming in his throat. he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her against his chest. 

“oh, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “eomma loves you so much. she loves you with all her heart.”  

“but…” seo-ah’s voice trailed off, as if she couldn’t quite find the words.  

“sometimes,” dae-ho continued gently, “when babies are really little, they need a lot of attention. but that doesn’t mean eomma loves you any less.”  

“okay,” seo-ah murmured, but there was a heaviness in her tone that told dae-ho she didn’t fully believe it.  

he held her tighter, but the question stayed in his mind, poking at him. what had made her feel this way?  

over the next few days, he started to notice the little moments…the ones he hadn’t seen before.

you holding byeol more than seo-ah. you setting aside time for the baby’s baths, feedings, tummy time, all the milestones that came with having an infant, while unintentionally pushing seo-ah to the side.  

it was only two days later when seo-ah had come to you, holding her mini soccer ball, asking to play.  

“can we play now, eomma? byeol’s sleeping,” she had said, her eyes bright with hope.  

you, standing over the stove, stirring dinner, had glanced at the pot and sighed, “not right now, sweetheart. i need to finish dinner. maybe later, okay?”  

dae-ho had seen the disappointment flash in seo-ah’s eyes, though she tried to hide it.  

he’d stepped in, offering, “i can play with you, baby. how about me and you play soccer in the backyard?”  

“okay, appa,” she’d agreed. however, there had been a sadness in her voice, a sadness that told him it wasn’t the same. she had wanted you.  

that wasn’t the worst, since there was the moment that truly broke his heart.

the next afternoon, byeol was asleep on the couch, her soft breaths even and peaceful. seo-ah had been playing with her blocks nearby, humming quietly to herself. 

she built a small tower, proud of her creation, before turning to you.  

“eomma! look what i made!” she called out, her eyes shining with excitement.  

you, cradling byeol as she slept, pressed a finger to your lips. 

“shh, sweetheart. byeol’s sleeping. can you go play in your room for a little bit? i don’t want her to wake up and start crying.”  

the words hit seo-ah like a wave.  

the older sister’s smile faded, her little shoulders slumping as she scooped up her blocks and trudged to her room. she was quiet, so quiet, as she shut the door behind her, the sound soft but deafening in dae-ho’s ears.  

he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

after a moment, he followed her, heart heavy. he found her sitting on the floor of her room, her blocks scattered in front of her, but she wasn’t playing. seoah’s bunny sat in her lap, her small fingers tugging at its ears as her eyes glistened with tears she tried to hold back.  

dae-ho knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. 

“hey, baby,” he whispered.  

she sniffled but didn’t look up.  

“can i sit with you?” he asked.  

she nodded slowly, and he sat down, pulling her into his lap.  

“i saw what happened,” he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face, “i know that hurt your feelings.”  

she finally looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. 

“i just wanted eomma to see my tower.”  

“i know, baby,” dae-ho replied, his chest aching, “and i’m really sorry. sometimes, when eomma is busy with byeol, it might feel like she isn’t paying attention. but she loves you so, so much. more than anything.”  

“then why doesn’t she play with me anymore?”  

the question hit him like a punch to the gut.  

he hugged her tighter, fighting back his own emotions. 

“i think eomma’s been really focused on taking care of byeol because she’s still so little, but she doesn’t realize how much you’ve been missing her. it’s not because she doesn’t love you.”  

seo-ah rested her head on his chest, her small hands gripping his shirt.  

“how about we build the biggest tower ever together?” he offered gently, “and then, we’ll show eomma when we’re done. i bet she’ll be so proud.”  

she sniffled but nodded, a small smile breaking through. 

“okay.”  

as they started building, block by block, dae-ho’s mind raced, already knowing he needed to talk to you soon, really talk. as much as he knew you loved both of your daughters, you hadn’t realized the hurt that had been growing in seo-ah’s little heart. he needed to help fix it before that distance became too wide.

the tower stood tall, as tall as it could with colorful plastic blocks. seo-ah’s little hands had carefully placed the final piece on top, her tiny fingers trembling with excitement. she beamed up at dae-ho, her whole body jumped with happiness.

“look, appa! it’s the tallest one we’ve ever made!” she giggled, clapping her hands.

“it’s amazing, baby,” dae-ho smiled, his heart warmed by her excitement, “let’s go show eomma, okay?”

seo-ah nodded eagerly, clutching her stuffed bunny in one arm while carefully carrying the wobbly tower in the other. she followed dae-ho into the living room, where you sat on the floor, watching byeol lying on her tummy on a soft blanket. 

byeol babbled tiredly, her tiny legs moved as she rocked her body back and forth.

“eomma! look!” seo-ah called out, holding up the block tower proudly. 

“me and appa made this for you!”

you glanced up, a soft smile tugging at your lips, but just as you opened your mouth to respond, byeol rolled over on her belly and pushed herself forward a few inches, her little arms wobbling under her weight.

“oh my gosh, dae she’s trying to crawl!” you gasped, eyes wide as you leaned forward, your hands ready to catch her if she tumbled. 

“come on, byeol, you can do it!”

your entire focus shifted. you clapped your hands softly, encouraging the baby, completely caught in the moment.  

behind you, seo-ah’s heart dropped. the kid’s small hands gripped the tower tighter, but the blocks wobbled and fell apart, scattering across the floor.  

“eomma…” she tried again, her voice much softer this time.

you didn’t hear her, too focused on byeol, who now babbled happily, clearly enjoying the attention.  

dae-ho watched it all unfold, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions. he knelt beside seo-ah, who was now kneeling on the floor, her head lowered as she started picking up the scattered blocks.  

“baby…” he whispered, but she didn’t say anything.  

seoah’s excitement had vanished, her little heart shattering at how quickly you had turned away.  

the rest of the evening passed in a blur. you were too focused on byeol, who spent the rest of the night making tiny attempts to crawl, and seo-ah quietly sat with dae-ho, barely speaking, her energy dimmed.

the next morning, sunlight warmed the bedroom. you stretched beneath the covers, feeling the comfort of the soft sheets wrapped around you. byeol was still sleeping peacefully in her bassinet, her soft breathing the only sound in the room.

you felt dae-ho stir beside you before his weight shifted as he sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.

“goodmorning,” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glanced at you, his face unreadable. 

“hey.”

there was a pause. a heaviness in the air that you didn’t quite understand.

“i was thinking…” he started, his voice careful, almost too careful, “maybe i’ll take byeol to see my mom today. in ssangmun-dong.”

you blinked, surprised by the suggestion. 

“just byeol?”  

he nodded. 

“yeah. eomma’s been asking about her. she’s only seen her twice since she was born.”  

you frowned, feeling an immediate ache in your chest at the thought. 

“i don’t know... i don’t want to be apart from byeol for that long.”

dae-ho let out a breath, clearly trying to keep his tone even. 

“it’s just for the day. we’ll be back by dinner.”

you hesitated before sitting up straighter. 

“what if you take seo-ah instead? she hasn’t been to see your mom in a while either.”  

there was a beat of silence. the air grew heavier.  

dae-ho’s jaw tensed. he turned his head away for a second, as if trying to bite back his initial reaction.  

“she’s seen seo-ah plenty of times,” he replied, his voice now edged with frustration, “she wants to see byeol.”

“okay… then you can take both of them,” you offered, your tone still casual, not understanding the weight of what you had said.

that’s when daeho finally cracked, though he tried to keep it subtle.  

he let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he stood up from the bed. 

“of course. why wouldn’t you want them both gone?” he muttered under his breath, the words sharp, cutting deeper than he intended.

you sat there, stunned, your heart sinking. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?”  

dae-ho didn’t answer. he grabbed his shirt from the chair, slipping it over his head. 

“nothing. forget it.”

you pushed the covers off, your emotions swirling in confusion and hurt. 

“dae-ho, what are you talking about?”  

he stopped at the bedroom door, his hand gripping the handle tightly, his shoulders tense. but he didn’t turn around.  

“i just… i can’t right now. i’ll be back later,” he mumbled before stepping out, closing the door gently but firmly behind him.

you sat there, frozen, your mind racing. what did he mean by that? why did it sound like he was accusing you of something?

the hurt sat heavy in your chest, but you didn’t chase after him. instead, you got out of bed, walking into byeol’s nursery. she was still fast asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. you sat down in the rocking chair, carefully lifting her into your arms, holding her close.  

“good morning, my sweet girl,” you whispered, kissing the top of her soft head.  

the comfort of holding her washed over you, soothing some of the ache in your chest. you cradled her tightly, swaying gently in the chair, but there was something nagging at the back of your mind…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

what was going on?  

you didn’t even realize that you hadn’t gone to greet seo-ah yet. she was likely awake in her room, waiting, as she always did, with her favorite bunny in hand, hoping for your attention. in this moment, all you could do was hold onto byeol, your thoughts too cloudy to see what was unfolding around you.

after laying byeol gently back in her crib, watching her chest rise and fall with each soft breath, you tucked the blanket around her and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead. the baby’s tiny fingers curled, her face peaceful, completely unaware of the heaviness in the house.

you sighed, your mind still clouded with confusion over the morning’s argument with dae-ho. the way he had left the room, the hurt in his voice, it confused you. your heart ached, but part of you pushed the feelings aside, telling yourself it was just a bad morning for him.

stepping out of the nursery, you move quietly down the hall toward seo-ah’s room, thinking maybe now would be a good time to spend some one-on-one time with her. maybe you could make up for the missed moments, sit with her, color, or even play with that little soccer ball she’d been so excited about.

as you approached her door, soft cries broke through the quiet house.

you stopped mid-step, your heart instantly tightening in your chest. you could hear muffled voices, dae-ho’s low and gentle, but strained, and seo-ah’s little sobs between broken words.

your breath caught in your throat as you pressed yourself closer to the wall, listening.

“she still loves you, baby,” dae-ho’s voice was soft, trying to soothe her, “eomma loves you so much.”

then, through choked sobs, you heard the words that shattered something deep inside you.

“no, no she does not… mommy doesn’t love me anymore,” seo-ah cried, her tiny voice trembling with heartbreak.

your hand flew to your mouth, tears instantly welling in your eyes. your whole body felt like it had been slammed into a wall.  

what?  

you leaned closer, your heart pounding in your ears.

“baby, no,” dae-ho said, his voice still gentle but faltering, “she does, i promise. she just has to take care of byeol too, but that doesn’t mean she loves you any less.”

even you could hear it, the hesitance in his voice. the lack of certainty.  

he didn’t believe it fully himself.  

you could barely breathe.  

the sound of seo-ah crying, your little girl, your firstborn, echoed in your mind.  

“it’s not the same, appa,” she sniffled, “she only plays with byeol now. she doesn’t want me.”

it was like the air had been ripped from your lungs.  

your defense mechanism kicked in before your mind could even catch up. you turned and ran, your feet carrying you quickly down the hall and into your bedroom. you ran into the room and into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. you gripped the sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

your reflection looked back at you…tired, eyes wide, your lips trembling.

what have i done?

you gripped the edge of the sink tighter, your knuckles getting lighter. images flashed through your mind, every time you’d told seo-ah “later,” every time you’d chosen to cradle byeol while leaving seo-ah sitting quietly nearby.  

you hadn’t even noticed.  

she had.  

you squeezed your eyes shut, tears spilling over as your body trembled.  

“no,” you whispered, but it was like your own mind was drowning out your voice.

your reflection blurred through your tears, but all you could see was the image of your younger self. the little girl who sat alone on the front steps waiting for her mom to come home, the one who constantly felt unseen, unheard, unwanted.  

your parents had done this to you.  

they had ignored you, pushed you to the side, made you feel like you didn’t matter.  

and now…  

“i’m doing the same thing,” you choked out, sliding down onto the bathroom floor, your back pressed against the cool tiles as your tears came harder, your body shaking.

you hugged your knees to your chest, burying your face in your arms, the crushing guilt pressing down on you.

seo-ah was your firstborn, your little girl, the one who had made you a mother. you had loved her so fiercely, so completely. she had been your whole world before byeol came, and somehow, without realizing it, you had pushed her aside.

of course, you still loved her. more than anything. more than yourself. that wasn’t what she had been seeing though. the image of her holding up that crayon drawing, waiting for you to notice. the small hands gripping the soccer ball, hoping you’d play. your daughter’s voice when she asked if she could help bathe byeol, only for you to tell her, “maybe later.”

all those moments.

you sat there, tears rolling down your cheeks, your chest tight with the weight of your own failure.

you thought of what dae-ho had said earlier, his frustration, the smart remark before he left the room. now it made sense.  

you had been so focused on one child that you had unintentionally hurt the other. you sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity, the sound of your own quiet sobs filling the room.

eventually, you wiped your face with shaky hands, standing up on trembling legs. you splashed cold water on your face, trying to hide the redness in your eyes, though it felt pointless.

you opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the bedroom, expecting to see the girls playing or resting.

however, the house was silent. too silent.

you walked into the living room, looking around. no toys scattered on the floor. no little voices or baby babbles.

you noticed a note on the kitchen counter, written in dae-ho’s handwriting.

“i took the girls to my mom’s. thought it might be good for everyone to have some space. we’ll be back later.”

your chest tightened, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter.

he had taken both of them.

your eyes filled with tears again, but this time, the hurt was mixed with fear.

how am i supposed to fix something that i didn’t even realize that i’ve broken?  

you had never meant to hurt seo-ah. you had never meant to make her feel unloved. now, she thought you didn’t love her anymore. you had no idea how to make that right.

the house was painfully silent, filled with an emptiness that echoed through every room. you sat curled up on the living room couch, the soft fabric of seo-ah’s favorite bunny pressed tightly against your chest. the girl’s small toy worn from years of love, its little ears slightly bent, was all you had in that moment, and it felt like the only thing anchoring you to reality.

your fingers traced the seams of the bunny absentmindedly, your mind racing, your heart heavy. you had been sitting there for hours, the sun shifting across the sky outside the windows, but you barely noticed. all you could think about was seo-ah, her tearful voice in the hallway, those heartbreaking words still echoing in your head.

you clutched the bunny tighter, your throat tightening as tears pricked your eyes again.  

how had i let it get this far?

your mind drifted back to the day she was born, just four months after surviving those damn death games. you had been a shell of yourself then, walking through life with thick layers of PTSD wrapped around you like chains. 

the nightmares, the flashbacks, the unbearable weight of guilt from what you had done to survive…it all lived inside you.  

then seo-ah came.  

you had been financially stable by that point, the blood money from the games allowing you and dae-ho to start fresh, but nothing had really healed inside you. not until you held her.

you remembered that moment like it was yesterday, the first time you heard her tiny cry, her little fists clenched tight as they placed her on your chest. tears had poured down your face as you held her close, feeling her soft breaths against your skin.  

she was the light in the darkest chapter of your life. 

while dae-ho had been your anchor, your lifeline, seo-ah was the spark that reignited your will to keep going. her existence gave you purpose when everything else felt broken.  

she is his twin. every little feature, a mirror of dae-ho. the same warm eyes, the same button nose. it made you love her even more, feeling like a perfect blend of you both.  

in those early months, you couldn’t leave her side. seoah’s cries pulled at every fragile thread inside of you. she had been your only child then, the center of your world, and loving her with every fiber of your being felt effortless. you had no distractions, no one else to split your attention between.  

that was the problem.  

you had known how to be her mom when it was just the two of you. when she was the only one who needed you. now, with byeol here things had changed. you hadn’t realized how much, but now that the house was empty, that realization sat like a heavy stone in your chest.  

you stared at the bunny in your lap, remembering all the times she’d held it tightly when she was scared or sad. and now? she thought you didn’t love her.  

a sob broke free from your chest, your hands trembling as you wiped at your face.  

you had grown her inside of you for nine months. through the worst of it. the fifth month, god, that fifth month, had been hell. you were in the middle of the games, carrying her, while pushing yourself beyond what anyone should be able to survive.

there had been moments when you thought she wouldn’t make it, that the stress, the trauma, the sheer brutality of it all would rip her away from you before she ever took her first breath. she didn’t. she stayed with you. she had been your testament to strength, to bravery. she was the living proof that you had survived the worst, and yet here you were, hurting her in a way you never imagined you could.

you thought about how easily she had smiled at you as a baby, how she used to reach for you with those chubby little hands, trusting that you would always be there. now? she had to ask her father if you still loved her.

your heart shattered all over again.

you rocked back and forth on the couch, the bunny still pressed tightly to your chest, as thoughts swirled around in your mind.

you needed to fix this. fast.  

before it got worse. before she started believing that your love had conditions. before dae-ho grew distant, because you had seen it in his eyes too. the sadness. the frustration. the disappointment.  

you could already feel the cracks forming.  

you had to fix it before the space between you and them grew too wide to close.  

before seo-ah, your sweet, vibrant, energetic little girl, started to believe that she wasn’t enough anymore. the same way your mother made you feel as a child. 

seoah is everything. 

she is your everything.  

both of them were. 

you needed to show her that before it was too late.

the house smelled faintly of vanilla and sugar, the soft scent of the cake you had spent hours baking filling the air. the kitchen was spotless now, counters wiped down, dishes done, and the soccer ball cake sat proudly on the table, its white and black frosting gleaming under the soft kitchen lights. it wasn’t perfect, the lines weren’t as straight as they could be, and the icing smudged in a few spots, but it was made with love. it was a start.

you had spent the entire day cleaning, organizing, and focusing your mind. the mindless tasks had helped ground you, giving you time to calm down and really think about how you were going to fix things. 

not just with dae-ho, but more importantly, with seo-ah.

you didn’t want her to grow up feeling like she had to compete with her baby sister for your love. that was your biggest fear now, that your mistakes might turn into something that would leave lasting scars on her heart. you had to change that. and soon.

it was nearly 6 p.m. when you heard the front door unlocking. your heart leaped, a mix of nerves and hope twisting in your stomach. you quickly wiped your hands on a towel, taking one last glance at the cake before stepping toward the door.

the soft creak of the door opening filled the quiet house, and you immediately saw them.

the stroller was pushed inside first, both girls fast asleep, their soft breaths rising and falling in tandem. byeol’s tiny head rested against the side, her pacifier still in her mouth, while seo-ah sat curled up next to her, her arms wrapped around her other favorite bunny, her little legs kicked out to the side. 

your heart swelled seeing them like that. peaceful and safe.

dae-ho stepped in next, gently shutting the door behind him. he looked… better. calmer. the tension in his shoulders seemed lighter, though you could still feel the heaviness in the air between you both. this morning’s argument lingered, unspoken but present.

you offered a light smile, trying to ease the atmosphere. 

“hey… how was your mom’s?”

he glanced up at you, a soft, almost tired smile on his face. 

“she was happy to see the girls. it was good for her.”

you nodded, crossing your arms lightly over your chest, unsure of what to say next. 

“was your dad there?”

he shook his head. 

“no. thankfully.” his jaw tensed slightly before softening again, “it was just eomma, me, and the girls. i was surprised that none of my sisters were there.”

you let out a small breath of relief, though the tension still lingered between you both.

it was clear that while he wasn’t angry anymore, there was still a conversation to be had. and you were ready for it. you both needed it.

“they had fun?” you asked softly, glancing at the sleeping girls.

“yeah. eomma spoiled them,” he chuckled, the sound soft, almost nostalgic. 

“she made a huge lunch, let seo-ah play in the garden, and spent most of the time holding byeol.”

you smiled, imagining seo-ah running around his mom’s garden, her bunny probably dragging through the dirt. 

“sounds like they had a good day.”

he nodded. 

“they did.”

there was a pause, heavy but not uncomfortable. dae-ho was always good at keeping calm, even when there were difficult things to say. you admired that about him, his patience, his ability to think things through. 

you knew he wasn’t the kind of man who would explode or lash out. however, he was also the kind of man who wouldn’t just let things slide. he would talk when he was ready.

you knew that moment would come after the girls were put to bed.

“i can carry them upstairs,” he said, moving toward the stroller.

“i’ll take seo-ah,” you offered quickly, your voice soft but certain.

he paused for a second, his eyes flickering to yours, and for a brief moment, something shifted. it was subtle, but you could see the acknowledgement there, he noticed. 

you gently unbuckled seo-ah from the stroller, her little body limp with sleep, her arms still clutching her bunny. she stirred slightly as you lifted her, her head resting against your shoulder.

“eomma?” she murmured, half-asleep.

“shh, baby, it’s okay. i’m here,” you whispered, kissing her forehead as you carried her up the stairs. you could feel dae-ho’s eyes on you as you disappeared into seo-ah’s room.

you gently laid her down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her. she clutched her bunny close, her soft breaths evening out again. you sat beside her for a moment, brushing a stray hair out of her face. 

“i love you so much, baby,” you whispered, your throat tightening with emotion.

she didn’t stir this time, but the words felt necessary.  

after making sure she was comfortable, you stood and quietly left her room, heading back downstairs.

when you reached the living room, you found dae-ho already there. byeol must’ve been tucked into her crib, and now he sat on the couch, his hands resting on his knees, waiting.

he looked up when you walked in, his eyes meeting yours, warm but serious.

you sat down beside him, the weight of the day pressing down on both of you.  

“we need to talk,” he started, his voice gentle but steady.

“i know,” you replied, your voice soft, feeling the emotions swirling inside.

the air between you hung heavy with everything unspoken. you both knew this conversation was going to be hard, but necessary. the living room was filled with a heavy silence, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it harder to breathe. 

you sat next to dae-ho on the couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your fingers twisting together as you tried to find the right words, any words, but they wouldn’t come.

he sat there too, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely, his eyes on the floor for a moment before he finally turned his head to look at you.

“y/n,” he began, his voice soft but serious, “we need to talk about seo-ah.”

your throat tightened, your heart already racing. you nodded, your eyes welling with tears before you even had a chance to speak.

“i’ve been noticing things… things i didn’t want to say out loud because i know—” he paused, taking a breath., “i know you have no bad intentions. i know how much you love both of our girls but… have you noticed how seo-ah has been feeling?”

you tried to speak, but the lump in your throat made it nearly impossible. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, your vision blurring as tears filled your eyes.

“dae-ho, i…” your voice broke, and the tears spilled over. you quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of your shirt, shaking your head. 

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t even realize…” you swallowed hard, but it felt like the words were stuck, heavy and sharp. your husband’s face softened, his brow furrowing with concern, but when he reached out to place a hand on your arm, you instinctively pulled away.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “please… don’t comfort me right now. this is all my fault.”

“y/n…” he sighed, his heart breaking a little at the sight of you falling apart, blaming yourself so fully. 

“this isn’t just on you. we’re in this together.”

you shook your head, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“no, it is my fault. i made her feel unloved, like i didn’t care about her. i didn’t even notice what i was doing to her, dae-ho. i was so focused on byeol that i… i hurt her.” your voice cracked again, and your chest ached from the weight of it all.

he moved closer then, carefully, his hand resting on your knee this time, grounding you. 

“i know you didn’t mean to, and i’m not mad at you,” he said, his voice steady and full of love, “i’m not your enemy in this. i’m on your side.”

you bit your lower lip, trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t working.

“i just…” you started, your voice breaking, “i don’t know how to fix it.”

he took your hands in his, his warmth radiating through your trembling fingers. 

“you can fix it. and i’ll help you.” he squeezed your hands gently, “this is our first time being parents to two kids. it’s hard. we’re still figuring it out.”

you finally looked up at him, tears streaming down your face, but he didn’t look at you with frustration or judgment, only love.

“i feel like i failed her,” you whispered.

“you didn’t,” he replied firmly, “she’s still here. she still loves you. she’s just confused right now, and she needs a little more of you. that’s all.”

you wiped your eyes, your hands shaking. 

“how do i fix this, dae-ho? i need to fix this before she resents me… or resents byeol.”

he took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. 

“start small. give her moments where she has you all to herself. just her and eomma. it doesn’t have to be anything huge. coloring together, playing soccer in the yard, reading her favorite book before bed. she needs to know she still has your attention and that she’s still your baby too.”

you nodded, tears still falling, but there was a tiny flicker of hope in your chest now.

“and i’ll help,” he continued, “i’ll take byeol when you need time with seo-ah. we’ll work together. you don’t have to balance this all on your own.”

the relief of hearing those words washed over you, even as the guilt still sat heavy in your heart.

“i don’t deserve how patient you are with me,” you mumbled, tears falling again.

he let out a soft, almost pained laugh, pulling you into his arms. 

“you deserve all of it. we’re in this together, remember?”

dae ho’s arms wrapped around you tightly, and you melted into his chest, finally allowing yourself to fully break down in his embrace. your husband’s hands moved gently over your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“this is hard for both of us,” he whispered against your hair, “but we’re doing it. we’re figuring it out and the girls are going to be okay because they have us.”

“i just…i don’t want to hurt them,” you choked out.

“you won’t,” he said firmly, “you’re already trying to make it right. that’s what matters.”

you sat there in his arms for a long moment, letting his words sink in, his steady heartbeat beneath your ear helping to calm the storm inside you.

“you’re right,” you finally whispered, your voice still shaky. he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. you feel his love wrap around you like a shield, protecting you from the crushing guilt you had been drowning in.

“thank you, dae-ho. for not giving up on me,” you murmured.

dae-ho’s face softened even more, his eyes filled with nothing but love. 

“i never will.”  

the soft morning light filtered through the curtains as you quietly opened seo-ah’s bedroom door. the room was still and peaceful, filled with the faint sound of her slow, even breaths as she lay curled up under her pastel pink blanket, her little bunny clutched tightly against her chest.

you took a small, shaky breath, your heart pounding as you walked over to her bed. sitting on the edge, you gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face. 

she stirred slightly, her tiny eyebrows scrunching before her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“eomma?” she mumbled sleepily, her voice groggy and soft.

“good morning, my sweet girl,” you whispered, your throat tightening as you spoke. you couldn’t hold back anymore, you wrapped your arms around her small body, pulling her close into your chest.

she blinked in confusion, still groggy, her little arms limp at first. 

“eomma…?” she asked again, unsure why you were hugging her so tightly. then, after a few moments, her small arms wrapped around you too, her head resting against your shoulder. in that instant, you felt your heart begin to heal.

you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of her hug, tears prickling behind your eyelids. you gently rocked her back and forth, feeling the weight of everything that had happened over the last few days crashing down on you.

“seo-ah…” you started, your voice cracking, “i’m so, so sorry, baby.”

she pulled back slightly, her sleepy eyes meeting yours. 

“why, eomma?”

you cupped her soft cheeks, your thumbs wiping away a tear that had slipped down your face. 

“i haven’t been the best mommy lately. i’ve made mistakes… and i made you feel like i didn’t love you, didn’t i?”

your oldest daughter's eyes glistened as she hesitated, but then she nodded slowly.

“but, baby, that’s not true… not even a little bit. i love you so much, more than anything. you are my world, seo-ah. you’ve been my light since the very first moment i met you.”

you took a breath, your voice trembling as you remembered that day, four months after surviving the games.  

“when you were born, i remember holding you for the first time. you were so tiny, so perfect. i was scared of a lot of things back then, but the second i looked into your eyes, all of that fear melted away. because you were there. my beautiful little girl. my reason to be strong.”

seo-ah blinked, her little hands now resting on your cheeks, mimicking how you were holding her.

“you’re the one who made me a mommy,” you whispered. “and you are so, so special to me. nothing will ever change that.”

a tear slipped down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t from sadness, it was from something deeper. she leaned in, wrapping her arms around your neck tightly, her little voice muffled as she whispered, “i love you, eomma.”

you held her even tighter, like if you let go, she might fly away. 

“i love you, too, baby. forever. i will always love you.”

you rocked her gently in your arms, her warmth seeping into your chest, and for the first time in days, you felt something lift, like a wound finally starting to heal.

“i’m so sorry, seo-ah,” you said again, kissing the top of her head, “and i promise, from now on, i’m going to show you just how much i love you every single day.”

she sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, but a small smile formed on her face. 

“okay, eomma.”

you smiled through your tears and added, “and guess what? after breakfast and daycare today… i’m going to play soccer with you in the backyard. just you and me. and this time, i promise.”

seoah’s eyes widened, sparkling with excitement. 

“really?”

you nodded, brushing her hair gently. 

“really. and i won’t break my promise.”

she giggled, the sound filling the room and your heart. 

“yay! eomma’s gonna play soccer with me!”

“yep,” you grinned, feeling hope blooming inside you. 

“now, let’s go eat some breakfast.”

the day passed slowly, each moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and hope. when it was finally time to pick seo-ah up from daycare, you made sure everything was ready before she even got home.  

the sun was warm, a gentle breeze dancing through the backyard as you stood there, soccer ball in hand. you had already set up two little makeshift goals using cones, making sure everything was perfect.

you heard the front door open, and then her voice, bright and excited.

“eomma?!”  

you turned around, seeing her standing at the glass door, her eyes wide as they landed on you and the soccer ball in your hands.

your daughter’s whole face lit up, her smile so wide it nearly reached her ears. 

“eomma! you’re ready!”

you laughed, your heart bursting with joy. 

“i told you i would be.”

she burst through the door, running across the grass with her bunny still in hand, before dropping it onto a nearby chair and racing toward you.

you crouched down, opening your arms wide, and she ran straight into them, giggling as you scooped her up and twirled her around.

“you kept your promise,” she said, her voice filled with pure happiness.

you smiled, your throat tightening as you looked at her. 

“and i always will, baby. always.”  

you set her down and tapped the soccer ball toward her feet. 

“now, show me how good you are at soccer.”

she giggled, chasing after the ball with her tiny legs, her laughter filling the backyard.

kang family masterlist

[bueckers555]

WOULDN’T BE GONE — caitlin clark x reader

summary: in which, your relationship with caitlin ever since the draft has been one sided and you’re sick of it.

warnings: just angst sorryy

authors note. IM SORRY FOR BEING MIA college was kicking my ass (still is) and i’m trying my hardest not to crash out but here is an angsty fic, this is also heavily inspired by she wouldn’t be gone by blake shelton IK IK country music sue me it is unfortunately part of my roots so yes here she is

“i’m sick of this caitlin!”

you two had been going back and forth for a while about this, both too stubborn to admit who was in the right and who was in the wrong.

it’d been two months since caitlin went first pick in the wnba draft. two months of caitlin continuously forgetting about your date nights, two months of caitlin lagging hours on end and then eventually responding to your messages with one word replies, two months of wondering if caitlin would be home from practice at a decent hour or if you’d go to sleep in a cold, empty bed.

two. fucking. months.

of course, you understood the fact that caitlin’s job required almost all of her undivided attention and you were extremely proud of her and all her accomplishments.

but being second priority to her job was taking a toll on your mental health.

you were tired of being alone all the time. the sacrifices you made, picking up everything and moving to indiana with caitlin to be with her, felt pretty fruitless when you had barely seen her in your own apartment.

caitlin’s response came low at first as she rubbed her temples, “what do you want me to do?” and then she repeated it louder, throwing her arms up in frustration, “what do you want me to do?!”

“i want you to be here! you’re never here anymore, caitlin! i’m alone ALL THE TIME now!”

“that’s not fair. i’m doing this for us! for— for you!”

you shook your head, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “no. no. not for me. this is what you wanted! you wanted this! i didn’t—“

“i didn’t ask you to move to indiana with me!”

the statement felt like a slap to the face. caitlin, of all people, knew how hard of a decision it was to move to indiana. to be away from your family. your sister, your parents.

caitlin never pressured you into it, of course. she was insistent that if you had decided to stay in iowa, you’d make long distance work. but when you ultimately decided to stay with, whom you thought was the love of your life, caitlin couldn’t of been more happier.

the two of your popped a bottle of champagne in celebration and spent the night talking, laughing, planning your futures together.

a bittersweet memory that seemed so distant at the moment.

as you narrowed your eyes, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, followed by three or two more. “you know what, caitlin? you’re right. you didn’t ask. but it was a sacrifice i was willing to make for you!”

“you’re not the only one making sacrifices—“

the mere start of the sentence had you letting out a laugh, putting your hands behind your head as you paced back and forth. “you’re not listening.”

“i am listening—“

“no! you’re hearing me but you’re not listening to me!”

silence fell upon the two of you, both contemplating your next words because you both knew you guys were pretty close to crossing lines that couldn’t be uncrossed.

you placed your hands on the counter, leaning on it while hanging your head low, letting the tears drop onto the floor. “i can’t do this anymore,” you finally let out in a small whisper, but it hit caitlin in the gut. “i don’t want a life where i spend more time waiting for you than being with you.”

“you don’t mean that. please baby, stop.” caitlin’s warm hands were suddenly around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder and kissing softly. “let’s just go to bed, yeah? i promise, i promise things will be different, okay? i’ll make more of an effort. i’ll try and get home on time for dinner. i know things aren’t easy right now, but i can’t lose you. we’ll figure it out, i’ll— i’ll try harder. okay?”

but even when those words eased your mind a little, you both knew the promise wouldn’t be kept.

so it wasn’t really a shock to you when you sat at the dinner table, candles lit and your meal sitting in front of you with the empty chair across from you.

you cooked caitlin’s favorite meal, wore her favorite set underneath your clothes that was her favorite color. you looked at the clock, and when it read 10:30, you scoffed.

you were fed up. you were well over your boiling point.

and, so, when caitlin entered your guys’ apartment at midnight, her heart ached a little at the sight of your untouched meals at the table, and candle she assumed was lit at one point.

she rubbed a hand over her face, quickly walking to your shared room. then she froze in her spot.

your side of the room was empty. from your nightstand being stripped of its decorations, to your side of the closet being completely empty.

the suitcases you used for when you guys planned vacations were gone. along her your toothbrush, makeup, hair products, basically everything that made your shared apartment shared was gone.

caitlin wasted no time picking up her phone and clicking your contact, holding the phone to her ear. she anxiously waited, suddenly feeling as if her whole life was falling apart.

voicemail. she tried seven more times. all went straight to voicemail.

her mind immediately went straight to denial, there was no way you picked up and left, right? you always said you would, but caitlin never believed you. never truly believed you.

or maybe she just didn’t listen to you.

she snatched her keys from the table, leaving the apartment and shutting the door loudly behind her. she bet all her money that her neighbors hated her.

that’s how she ended up in her car, speeding down the highway on a rainy night, frantically calling all of your shared friends.

she started with your mom, driving down the road at 90 miles an hour and switching lanes like an absolute maniac. she’d gotten honked at at least four times already.

“caitlin.” your mom greeted, though judging by her cold and and distant tone, and her use of caitlin’s full name instead of cait, caitlin could tell the news had no doubt got back to her.

“do you know where she is, mrs. l/n?” her question came right off the bat, figuring she had no time to waste in finding you.

your mom’s answer was quiet. and caitlin learned your families habits quickly enough to know that when she went quiet, she was lying. “please—“

“i’m afraid i can’t speak with you now, goodbye caitlin.”

then the line went dead.

with her left hand on the steering wheel, she punched the middle with her right and threw her head back.

her next call was kate because you three all had been very close throughout your iowa college years. kate always understood you in a way that made caitlin jealous.

and for a while, she she was a topic of argument in your relationship because caitlin constantly needed reassurance that she was the one you wanted.

there was clearly a rift in caitlin and kate’s friendship after, but after the move to indiana, they seemed to be mending their friendship. until now.

kate answered on the first ring with a hard question. “what’d you do, clark?”

“kate, i— i fucked up. she’s gone. i don’t know where she went. her stuff’s gone, her clothes are gone, she’s gone.”

“damn it, caitlin. you always do this shit— you drove her away, again.“

“do you know where she is?” caitlin demanded, arriving to her first destination.

“no.”

“you’re lying.”

“no i’m not—“

“i should’ve figured you wouldn’t help me find her. you’ve always been pathetically in love with her, ever since college.” caitlin scoffed out bitterly.

“caitlin—“

“know what? no. you’ve always been on her side, since day one. i can’t even do this right now—“

“you’re frustrated with yourself, about driving y/n away, so your picking a fight with me.” kate spoke calmly, fueling caitlin’s anger.

“don’t fucking psycho analyze me, right now martin.” with that she abruptly ended the call, getting out of the car and walking into the ice cream shop the both of you loved dearly.

after that, she went to your favorite coffee shop, after that, nalyssa’s apartment, then aliyah’s, then the hotel near your apartment.

she held her face in her hands, finally letting the sobs ripple through her. she suddenly realized how under appreciated your voice was. she was forgetting how sweet it was, how beautiful it was when you hummed her to sleep.

she was forgetting your voice already.

and she realized that she should’ve fought harder. should’ve told you how much she loved you, cherished you, needed you.

maybe, just maybe, if she had done that, you wouldn’t be gone.

safe to say caitlin didn’t find you that night, and no one told her where you might’ve went.

[444eggnog]

Golden Leaves

✍︎: last draft! i’ll be gone for a while to refresh my mind, but i promise to come back with more aus worth reading once i’m back. i hope you enjoy this one; it’s the prologue of 4 seasons of love, george’s story. you can read this first or jump to that one before this, your choice ♡

masterlist ! ☻

content: fluff, angst, rivals to lovers, domestic moments, marriage, parenthood, grief, bittersweet ending

warnings: childbirth complications, death of a partner

pairing: george russell x reader

wc: 6.7k

Autumn leaves fall, giving way to winter’s cold, but even that passes so new flowers can grow where they once lay.

Y/N was front and center in the lecture hall, notebook open, pen already moving before the professor even finished his first sentence. She liked being here early, ready, the kind of student everyone expected her to be.

She barely noticed the door opening until it squeaked on its hinges.

Their professor paused mid-sentence, looking up over his glasses.

The new guy stood in the doorway, a little out of breath.

“Ah. You must be the transfer student.”

George Russell gave a polite, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I got lost. First day.”

Y/N clicked her pen, unimpressed. Great. Just another ‘cool boy’ student who doesn’t care about his studies.

He gave a quick nod to the professor’s directions and found an empty seat a few rows back.

She didn’t look at him again. Not until the end of class, when the professor’s voice cut through the scraping of chairs.

“Before you go. I want you all prepared for next session. We’ll be doing a structured debate. Topic: Freud Is Overrated vs. Freud Still Matters.”

A few people groaned. Y/N’s fingers tightened around her pen.

“Freud might have been a disaster personally, but his work is foundational,” she muttered under her breath as she wrote down the assignment. “Psychology wouldn’t be the same without him.”

She didn’t realize he’d come closer to hear.

“Really?” George’s voice was mild, but there was a spark behind his eyes. “You’re siding with Freud?”

She lifted her gaze, bristling. “Yes. Despite his flaws, he shaped the entire field. Ignoring that is just plain ignorance.”

He gave a small, infuriatingly calm nod. “Sure. Or maybe he’s just been given too much credit for ideas other people refined. Erikson. Jung. Adler. More reasonable, more useful.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched.

Perfect.

Of course the new guy would take the other side.

She turned back to her notes, determined not to let him see her fuming.

But even as she packed up her things, she felt the heat in her chest.

She’d never let someone make her doubt her arguments before.

And next class?

She was going to bury him.

─── 🏁

George came to class early, despite getting lost the last time. He wasn’t about to repeat that embarrassment. He pushed the door open and scanned the lecture hall, feeling marginally pleased with himself.

Until he saw her.

“That girl who’s the biggest Freud fan I’ve ever met,” he thought dryly.

She was already there, of course front row, surrounded by her equally earnest friends. Hair tied in a neat ponytail. Crisp, ironed polo that practically screamed overachiever.

He let out a quiet chuckle under his breath.

Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me.

He picked a seat a few rows back, flipping open his notebook.

When class began, the professor didn’t waste time.

“All right. We’ll open the floor for the debate. Someone from ‘Freud Still Matters’ first, please.”

Naturally, she stood up.

George watched with amused curiosity as she launched in. Confident, clear, citing sources. He had to admit, she knew her shit.

But there was this self-righteous tilt to her voice that made him itch to challenge her.

He heard a few of his own groupmates sigh and slump in their chairs.

Oh, fantastic, he thought. They’re giving up already.

That was all he needed to cement his first impression.

Unbearable class president energy. Bet she was exactly that in high school.

When no one from his side volunteered, George exhaled sharply and got to his feet.

He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t even sound angry.

He just started picking apart her claims. Calm. Precise.

Point by point, he dug into the foundations of her argument, citing critiques of Freud’s work, praising Erikson, Jung, and modern approaches.

She didn’t interrupt, but he could see it, the way her fingers whitened around her pen.

Right before he sat back down, he added one final line, voice smooth as ever.

“Or, you know, we could just keep pretending one outdated man explains the entirety of the human mind.”

A few people in the class let out low “OOOH!” at that.

George let himself have the smallest hint of a smirk.

He didn’t miss how she straightened immediately, ready to stand and tear him apart.

But, of course, the professor had to intervene.

“Excellent points, George. Very well-articulated. Let’s hold further rebuttals for next session.”

He watched her jaw tighten, the storm brewing in her eyes.

George leaned back in his chair.

This is gonna be fun.

─── 🏁

Class was over, the professor gathering his notes, students shuffling out with muted chatter.

George didn’t leave right away.

He waited until she was alone at the front, zipping up her pencil case with tight, annoyed movements.

He walked over, slow and deliberate, dropping his bag onto one shoulder.

“Good debate,” he said evenly, offering her a hand.

She stared at it like it was a trap.

Her voice was clipped. “It’s only begun. That little comment from the professor doesn’t dictate what will happen.”

He let his offered hand fall, smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Yeah. You’re right.” His eyes glinted. “It’s only begun. But I can already see how much my presence is getting to you.”

She bristled, lips parting to snap back, but he didn’t stop.

“And by the way, being an overachiever doesn’t have to come with being a pain in the ass.”

Her mouth actually fell open for half a second.

But before she could spit out whatever insult was loading on her tongue, he was already turning away.

Bag slung over his shoulder. Smug look firmly in place.

He didn’t even glance back.

She glared at his retreating figure, fingers tightening around her pencil case.

He’s just full of bullshit, she seethed. Starting one debate doesn’t mean he can topple everything I’ve built here.

─── 🏁

George didn’t even try to hide how much he was watching her.

Not that she noticed.

She sat front and center, as if the whole lecture hall was built around her, scribbling furious notes, hand always halfway up before the professor even finished asking a question.

He was a row back, elbow propped on the desk, chin in his hand, eyes fixed on her ponytail swinging with every emphatic nod.

One afternoon he leaned closer to the guy sitting beside him.

“Hey. That girl,” he jerked his head subtly, “the one who’s always arguing.”

His classmate snorted.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. She got a boyfriend or something?”

The guy blinked, then barked a short laugh.

“Her? Nah. No one’s ever tried, man. She’s… a pain in the ass.”

George frowned.

“Seriously,” the guy went on, oblivious. “Like, yeah she’s pretty, but everyone says she’s kinda… fucked in the head, y’know? Always acting like she’s better than everyone. No one even bothers.”

George didn’t answer right away.

He looked back at her, watching her correct the professor on some obscure detail without so much as blinking.

Fucked in the head?

He didn’t see that.

He saw sharp edges honed from ambition.

Fire that refused to burn out.

Being smarter than everyone else didn’t make you fucked.

It made you special.

That night he lay in bed, one arm draped over his eyes, thinking about it.

She wouldn’t even remember his name if he didn’t give her a reason to.

So he decided he’d give her one.

He’d argue with her. Challenge her. Make sure she couldn’t forget him even if she tried.

And if she called him annoying?

Good.

If she rolled her eyes at him?

Even better.

Because if he was going to make her see him at all, it had to be this way.

After that, he stayed up late most nights.

Not because he was behind.

But because he was trying to keep up with her.

Reading and rereading.

Highlighting entire chapters.

Googling the weirdest shit just to make his claims airtight.

Because the only way he could think to get close to her was by meeting her on the only battleground she seemed to respect.

Even if it meant fighting her every single day.

Even if she never knew the real reason.

─── 🏁

The debate didn’t even need an introduction.

As soon as the professor gestured for them to begin, Y/N was already on her feet, launching into a precise, scathing defense of Freud’s foundational role in psychology.

George didn’t wait for her to finish.

He cut in, voice cool, systematically dismantling her citations, calling out historical revisionism. 

It was academic warfare.

They didn’t so much discuss as duel.

Facts flew like knives. Terms, studies, dates thrown at each other with pinpoint accuracy.

No one else even tried to stand up.

The rest of the class sat in awkward, wide-eyed silence.

The professor’s head panned from Y/N to George like he was watching a particularly aggressive tennis match.

At one point they were both talking at the same time, voices rising over each other until the words were nothing but an incoherent clash of syllables.

“CONTRIBUTIONS TO PSYCHOANALYTICAL THEORY”

“UTTERLY UNETHICAL AND OBSOLETE”

“UNCONSCIOUS MIND”

“OH OEDIPUS COMPLEX, HUH?”

“Enough!”

The professor finally had to raise his voice, both of them falling silent but glaring at each other with thinly veiled fury.

When the debate resumed, it was only slightly more controlled.

George listened to her next volley, biting back a grin despite himself.

Because God, she was good.

She had her citations memorized. Her logic was clean. She even used humor once to get the class on her side.

He hated it.

He loved it.

In the back of his mind, he had one more thing he knew he could say. A devastating closing argument. It would flatten her last point, swing the entire room his way.

He rolled it around on his tongue, taste-testing the victory.

But he didn’t say it.

Because watching her hair slipping from her ponytail, eyes bright with challenge, cheeks flushed with stubborn conviction, he realized he actually wanted to talk to her after this. Properly.

And if he said what he was about to, she’d never even look at him again without wanting to strangle him.

He settled for a sharp, thoughtful rebuttal instead.

Still smart. Still critical.

But merciful.

And when she sat down with a final huff, triumphant but breathless, George found himself fighting a smile.

Because even if his opinion on Freud would never change…

His opinion on her?

That was already a different story.

Class ended in an uneasy hush, students filing out quickly as if they were escaping the blast zone.

The professor gave them both a look that was equal parts impressed and exasperated before dismissing the room.

Y/N didn’t move at first.

She was still a little out of breath, pulse racing in her ears from the heat of it all.

George was packing up slowly, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She clicked her pen closed with finality, stood, and crossed the short distance between them.

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

She stuck out her hand.

“Good debate,” she said, voice carefully even.

He glanced at her hand, then at her face.

Her eyes were still bright with challenge, but there was something else there, too. Respect.

He grinned, teeth flashing.

He shook her hand firmly.

“You’re good competition,” he said, low and amused.

Her lips twitched, almost against her will.

“Don’t get used to winning,” she warned.

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They stood there a beat longer than necessary, hands still joined, before they finally let go.

And that was only the beginning of their academic rivalry.

Because they both knew this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

─── 🏁

George found himself walking up extra early every morning, squinting at his alarm with bleary eyes.

He splashed water on his face to wake up properly, muttering half-conscious curses about how ridiculous this was.

But he still got dressed in record time.

Because he had a plan.

He’d figured out her schedule by now.

Class started at 9:00, but she was always there by 8:15.

Always.

So he was going to beat her.

When he pushed the lecture hall door open at 8:05 and saw it empty, he actually grinned.

“Yes,” he hissed under his breath, pumping a fist.

He dropped his bag onto the front-row seat she usually claimed for herself and settled in like he owned the place.

Then he pulled out his notes.

He started rereading the stack of studies and research articles he’d stayed up highlighting last night.

He’d even cornered the professor after the last class to ask exactly what topic they were going over today, so he could prepare in advance.

When he heard the door click open, he didn’t even look up right away.

He just turned the page.

She stopped in the aisle.

He could practically feel her rolling her eyes before he even saw it.

When he glanced up, she was glaring.

He just smiled lazily, tilting his head and lifting his metal tumbler in greeting.

“Cheers.”

She rolled her eyes again, harder this time and made a dramatic little huff before dropping into the seat beside him.

God, she thought, he’s insufferable.

─── 🏁

The next few weeks went by much the same.

Him showing up early.

Claiming the seat next to hers.

Preparing extra just to out-quote her, out-argue her.

Every time she glared, sighed, or snapped at him, he logged it as a win.

She noticed him.

That was all he wanted.

But it was one Thursday afternoon that really did it.

They were deep in discussion about the cognitive dissonance theory when George spoke up to add his own take, citing Festinger’s original experiments and some modern criticisms.

She’d been scrawling notes furiously, barely listening.

Until he said it.

She actually turned her head, surprised.

Eyebrows lifting, pen pausing mid-word.

“Huh,” she thought, he’s actually smart.

But then she caught herself.

But not as smart as me, she added, shaking her head and going back to writing.

He saw it all.

The flicker of recognition.

The way her eyes darted over, just for a second.

And it was enough.

He let himself smile, just a little.

Small victories, he thought.

Because for someone like her, he knew he’d have to earn every single one.

─── 🏁

It had started off like any other day.

Bickering in hushed tones over whose notes were better.

Trading barbs in the back corner of the library so the staff wouldn’t shush them again.

But today something had changed.

George had been especially smug, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, eyebrows raised in that infuriating go on, prove me wrong way.

She snapped her book shut, glaring at him.

“God, you are unbearable.”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Funny,” he drawled, “I was about to compliment your excellent taste in debate partners.”

She blinked.

Then actually let out a laugh.

It was short and surprised, tumbling out before she could stop it.

She clapped a hand over her mouth instantly, eyes narrowing like he’d tricked her into it.

But it was too late.

He was grinning wide.

“Did you just laugh?”

“No,” she snapped, cheeks warming.

“Liar.”

She tried to kick his shin under the table.

He dodged, still laughing, absolutely victorious.

─── 🏁

Later that day, she was walking through the corridor, flipping through notes and trying to decide if she wanted to bother with the cafeteria’s miserable coffee.

She slowed when she heard her name.

Or rather, about her.

“…God, she’s such a bitch.”

“Seriously, it’s like she’s got a stick up her ass. Always raising her hand, correcting everyone, who even likes her?”

Another girl snickered.

“I heard she spends all night studying because she doesn’t have a life. Or friends. Not that anyone would want to hang out with her.”

She froze in place, fingers tightening around her folder.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard it before.

Didn’t mean it stung any less.

But before she could move, another voice cut in.

Flat. British.

Deadly calm.

“You know,” George’s voice drawled, “if you’re insecure about her topping every class she’s in, maybe you should try doing some reading of your own. Might help more than plastering your face with cement that’s not going to earn you a degree.”

Silence.

She turned her head slightly, enough to see him standing there, arms folded, eyebrow quirked.

The girls sputtered, one of them going red.

“Ugh, whatever.”

They stalked off.

─── 🏁

It had been almost a year since George transferred in.

As expected, their first debate was only the beginning.

Somehow, they managed to turn every class they had together into an opportunity for academic combat.

It didn’t even matter what the topic was anymore. Developmental psychology. Abnormal psychology. Research methods.

If she was on one side, he was on the other.

Y/N hated it.

She hated how he always seemed ready to challenge her beliefs, poke holes in her logic, undermine her carefully prepared points.

And George?

He loved it.

He loved watching her eyes narrow, her brows draw together, her voice get sharper with every rebuttal. Even when he secretly agreed with her, he’d find some way to argue, just to see that fire.

His day wasn’t complete without hearing one of her exasperated grunts as she stomped out of class, muttering insults under her breath.

He considered it a personal victory whenever she talked to him outside of debates, even if it was only to insult him.

“Your haircut looks like you lost a bet.”

“Your shoes don’t even match your clothes.”

George would just grin, hands in his pockets, savoring every second.

Then came the day their regular professor called in sick.

A substitute walked in, cheerful and clueless.

He hadn’t even finished introducing himself before he started assigning random group work.

When he grouped Y/N and George together, the entire class fell silent.

Someone even gasped.

A few exchanged looks that were half horrified, half gleeful, like they were settling in to watch a bomb go off.

George didn’t even try to hide his smile.

He turned in his seat to face her fully.

She was already glaring daggers at him.

He raised his eyebrows innocently.

She mouthed, “The fuck are you smiling about?”

He shrugged, smirk tugging at his lips.

“Looking forward to working with you,” he whispered back.

Her eyes narrowed even further.

She exhaled hard, grabbing her pen like she was imagining stabbing him with it.

George’s grin only widened.

Yeah.

This was going to be fun.

Their group project was for Advanced Clinical Case Studies, an in-depth report on a real or historical subject they found interesting.

Their team of five: Y/N, George, and three other classmates, agreed to meet at the café near campus.

It was supposed to be a casual planning session.

Except everyone walked on eggshells.

They were all painfully aware of the tension that usually sparked when Y/N and George were in the same room. Even small group discussions threatened to devolve into heated debates about methodology or ethics.

When they settled at the round table by the window, people took careful sips of coffee and glanced between the two of them like referees at a boxing match.

Y/N tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to stay professional.

“So,” she began carefully, “I was thinking we could focus on a case study of Phineas Gage? There’s a lot of material, it’s classic but still relevant. His injury, the personality changes, the ethical discussions around early neuroscience…”

George didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t scoff.

He actually nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping his paper cup. “That’s… actually a really good choice. Plenty to work with.”

The entire table went silent.

One of their groupmates blinked slowly, like he couldn’t process what he’d just heard.

Another actually dropped her pen.

Y/N herself froze mid-sentence, staring at him.

He raised an eyebrow.

She blinked again before coughing to cover her surprise, suddenly scribbling in her notes so she wouldn’t have to look at him too long.

“Right. Good. Great.”

The rest of the meeting went shockingly well.

They shared sources. Divided sections fairly.

Y/N and George actually discussed things instead of arguing, finding ways to strengthen the report.

When one of their teammates made a joke about feeling like they were in an alternate universe, George only smirked, eyes flicking to Y/N.

Maybe I am, he thought.

─── 🏁

When presentation day came, their original professor was finally back.

He glanced at the group list and actually paused when he saw George and Y/N’s names side by side.

He took a big sip of water, exhaled hard, and braced himself.

“…Go on.”

But as they began, something changed in the room.

Their group worked in perfect harmony.

Slides clean and professional.

Arguments logical, well-cited.

George supported Y/N’s points without undercutting her.

She handed the floor to him seamlessly when it was his turn.

When it was over, the professor actually smiled, tapping his notes.

“Well,” he said, visibly relieved, “that was excellent work. Truly impressive collaboration. One of the strongest presentations I’ve seen this term.”

George sat back down at the table, heart still thumping from the adrenaline.

Y/N turned in her chair to face him.

She didn’t say anything at first.

Then she smiled.

Genuine.

Bright.

George felt something in his chest unclench.

He returned the smile, smaller but just as real.

And in that moment he thought, I’d let go of being right every single time, just to see that smile again.

─── 🏁

The next few weeks changed everything by a mile.

No more bickering like they were John B. Watson caught red-handed with his “mistress” of behaviorism.

No more pointed barbs or rolled eyes.

Just quiet conversations. Soft smiles that seemed to say “See you tomorrow.”

George hadn’t realized how much lighter everything felt until one afternoon, when they walked out of class together and he caught himself hesitating.

He shifted his bag on his shoulder. Cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

She turned to look at him, eyebrow lifted.

He suddenly felt twelve years old.

“Uh… do you want to get lunch? I mean. Just… lunch. Classmates. Or friends. Whatever.”

She didn’t answer immediately.

He felt sweat prickle at the back of his neck.

Then she smiled.

“Sure,” she said. “But I’m picking where we’re eating.”

He let out a small huff of laughter.

When they got to the shop she chose, he blinked at the doorway.

It was light and airy, all white walls and warm wood. Cute illustrations of flowers and coffee cups lined the walls. String lights dangled overhead like stars.

It was the kind of café that served single-origin lattes in tiny, delicate cups and had cakes on marble stands.

George took one look at the prices on the chalkboard menu and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Damn. 

Guess it’s no takeouts for me until next month.

He ordered anyway.

When they sat down with their drinks, his an overpriced black coffee in a cup the size of his palm, hers some decadent-looking concoction with foam art, he didn’t complain.

He watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She was smiling at something on her phone before she looked up at him, eyes warm.

And despite the looming threat of a week of cup noodles, he thought it was worth every single cent.

─── 🏁

Before they even realized it, lunch together had become a habit.

What was supposed to be a one-time, “just classmates” meal turned into twice a week. Then every other day. Then nearly every day.

They claimed it was convenient.

Easy.

But they both knew better.

They’d spend hours in the library, books spread out in front of them. Debates traded for quiet concentration.

George would pretend to be asleep sometimes, head pillowed on his folded arms, just so he could peek at her over the pages and watch the way her lips moved while she read silently.

She caught him once.

He insisted he’d “just dozed off.”

She didn’t call him out, only shook her head and fought back a smile before nudging his foot under the table.

They laughed behind stacks of books when someone shushed them too harshly.

He’d walk her home after late study sessions, even if it meant taking the long way back to his own dorm.

He’d carry her books when she had too many.

Hold the umbrella over both of them when it rained, water dripping from his own hair while he made sure she stayed dry.

She’d talk about everything and nothing, classes, professors, her childhood, the future she was dreaming of.

And George would listen, memorizing the way her voice softened when she talked about home, the way her hands gestured when she was excited, the little sigh she let out when she was tired but happy.

Some days, he thought he might say something.

But most days, he was content to just be there.

Walking beside her.

Listening.

Learning her in every moment he was given.

─── 🏁

Y/N got home that night and went straight to her room, dropping her bag to the floor with a dull thud.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding, her smile so wide it actually hurt her cheeks.

It was such a dumb comment.

So simple.

But it made her feel like she was floating.

“I like your hair that way.”

She’d worn it down for once. No tight ponytail. Just loose waves falling over her shoulders, framing her face naturally.

She’d felt weirdly exposed at first.

But the way he’d looked at her like it was something special made it worth it.

Meanwhile, George walked back to his dorm with his hands stuffed in his pockets, a grin he couldn’t wipe off if he tried.

His cheeks were hot.

If anyone asked, he’d say it was the cold night air.

But he knew better.

He kept replaying it in his head.

How she’d looked at him. How she’d smiled.

The next day, she wore her hair down again.

This time she added a small clip, pinning back one side.

It was subtle.

Almost nothing.

But he noticed.

The moment she walked into class, he noticed.

And when she sat next to him, pretending not to look his way, he just leaned over a little and murmured,

“Nice clip.”

She tried to hide the smile tugging at her lips by biting them.

He saw it anyway.

─── 🏁

Later that week, it was raining when he walked her home.

The downpour had eased to a gentle drizzle, but the streetlights glowed in the mist, and their shared umbrella created a tiny world of just the two of them.

She was talking about an article they’d read for class, gesturing with her free hand, words animated.

George laughed quietly, glancing down.

Then he stopped walking.

“Hold this,” he said, handing her the umbrella.

She blinked. “What—”

But he was already kneeling down in front of her.

It took her a second to realize what he was doing.

Her laces were undone, soaked and messy.

He tied them carefully, fingers moving with surprising gentleness.

When he stood up, their faces were suddenly too close.

Close enough to see every raindrop clinging to her lashes.

His breath caught.

He hesitated.

Eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes and back.

She held her breath.

Then she rose onto her toes, fingers brushing his arm for balance.

She closed the gap.

Soft. Tentative.

His hands found her waist, pulling her in gently as he kissed her back, the umbrella tilting dangerously to one side as rain hit their shoes.

When they finally broke apart, she was smiling, breathing hard.

They walked the rest of the way to her house with her hand tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, pressed against his chest.

Neither of them said much.

They just smiled.

Still too flustered to look each other straight in the eye for long.

When they reached her door, she stood on tiptoe again, but this time she kissed his cheek.

“See you tomorrow.”

He stood there like an idiot, watching her go inside.

Those three words echoing in his chest like fireworks.

He let out a breathless laugh.

Then he actually jumped once, like a kid, punching the air and nearly slipping in a puddle.

He didn’t even care.

He walked back down the street grinning like a madman.

Hopping over puddles.

Feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

─── 🏁

Dating her came with a spotlight neither of them had asked for.

People stared. Whispered.

Some barely hid it.

“I mean… he could do so much better, right?”

“She’s so uptight.”

“God, she’s weird. I bet she makes him study for fun.”

George never flinched.

He’d squeeze her hand tighter. Interlace their fingers.

Once, he kissed her forehead right in front of a group of people who’d been staring a little too long.

He didn’t care.

He knew her.

The version no one else bothered to see.

The girl who laughed behind library books. Who argued with fire in her voice but cried when she passed her hardest exam.

The girl who fell asleep during study sessions and woke up apologizing like she missed something important.

He loved all of her.

─── 🏁

By the time graduation came around, they’d been together two years.

Still arguing, still pushing each other, still hand-in-hand.

She stood on stage as top of their class.

Head held high, hair loose, tassel swinging beside her cheek.

He sat in the second row with the other honor graduates, watching her with his hands folded over his lap, smiling.

He graduated right behind her.

Only a 0.07 difference between them.

Everyone knew he could’ve beaten her.

He knew it, too.

But he didn’t want to.

He didn’t need to.

That spot was hers.

She’d earned it.

He’d spent four years trying to get her to look his way.

Now, she was in his arms, diploma in one hand, the other looped around his waist as they took photos under the blistering afternoon sun.

And he wouldn’t trade a single second.

─── 🏁

The apartment they rented wasn’t much.

Beat-up. Too small.

Wallpaper peeling like old scabs.

A sink that rattled every time they turned it on.

But it was theirs.

They spent that first week tearing down strips of wallpaper, laughing breathlessly, smearing paint on each other’s faces until the whole place smelled like cheap rollers and turpentine.

They argued over where to put the second-hand couch.

They built shelves that wobbled if you breathed too hard.

They made it home.

That afternoon, when the last box was finally stacked in the corner, he dropped onto the floor with her, dust in their hair and sweat on their foreheads.

She was still complaining about the sink leaking.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny, battered velvet box.

Her mouth fell open before he even spoke.

He cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I—”

“Yes.”

He blinked.

“I didn’t even—”

“Yes, George.”

He huffed a laugh, eyes burning as he opened it all the way.

“Let me finish at least.”

She didn’t. She just kissed him.

─── 🏁

Before they knew it, she was pregnant.

They’d scribbled wedding plans on the backs of envelopes and cheap planners.

Argued about what color to paint the nursery, she wanted light yellow, he claimed it was too trendy.

They couldn’t agree on baby names.

He wanted a girl.

She insisted it’d be a boy.

They laughed about it in bed at night, her belly between them.

He’d rest his palm there, feeling the smallest kicks.

She’d complain about her nose getting bigger.

He’d tell her she was the smartest, most beautiful person he’d ever known.

He meant every word.

They got married when she was five months along.

She walked down the aisle in a simple dress that hugged the curve of her growing stomach.

He watched her like he couldn’t believe she was real.

She glowed.

Even when she mumbled complaints about swollen ankles and her puffy face, he just kissed her and whispered “perfect” against her hair.

He hoped their baby would be like her.

Smart. Determined.

Braver than anyone had the right to be.

But as her belly grew, so did the worry.

The doctor’s eyes didn’t light up at checkups the way they used to.

Words started getting longer. More complicated.

Blood incompatibility.

Developing an infection.

High-risk.

Untreatable.

George didn’t understand half of it.

He didn’t need to.

All he saw was her eyes shuttering as the doctor spoke.

He held her hand.

Told her she was the priority.

She didn’t argue, but he could see it, the way she cradled her stomach after appointments.

The way she whispered please stay when she thought he couldn’t hear.

He knew she wanted the baby.

God, so did he.

They started sleeping in shifts.

He’d wake up in the dark, help her out of bed to the bathroom.

Hold her upright when she felt dizzy.

Sit on the edge of the tub while she cried and pretended she wasn’t.

He felt helpless.

He’d always prided himself on being prepared. On knowing what to say, how to fix things.

But this?

He couldn’t study his way out of this.

He couldn’t argue with it.

He hated himself for how useless he felt.

─── 🏁

When September came, she was nine months in.

Any day, the doctor had said.

She was so thin now it scared him.

Except for her belly, round, impossibly tight.

She couldn’t see it, but he could.

He saw the lines around her mouth when she tried to smile.

The glassiness in her eyes as nurses adjusted IV drips.

He held her hand through every blood draw, every monitor beep.

And she held his back.

He didn’t say what he was thinking.

That if love could fix this, they’d be fine.

That if he could trade places, he would without a second’s hesitation.

That watching her fight like this was breaking him more than anything in his life ever had.

But he didn’t say it.

He just kissed her hair and told her it would be okay.

Even if he was the only one who still believed it.

─── 🏁

The hospital room was too bright.

Harsh white lights bounced off metal trays, reflected in glass screens that beeped in steady, awful rhythm.

George sat at her side, hands clammy, eyes fixed on hers like if he just watched hard enough, she wouldn’t leave him.

She looked so small.

Her skin burned with fever that wouldn’t break, sweat matting her hair to her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered open every few seconds, fighting to stay awake.

Fighting to stay for him.

Every time her grip on his hand slackened he panicked, tightening his fingers around hers.

“Stay with me,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please.”

When the baby’s cries finally filled the room, they didn’t sound like relief.

More like a warning bell.

Doctors and nurses worked too fast. Voices too clipped.

He couldn’t process it all.

Couldn’t even look at the baby right away.

All he saw was her.

She was trying to sit up, chest heaving.

They placed the tiny bundle in her shaking arms.

She smiled through tears so big they ran into her hairline.

Pressed a trembling kiss to the baby’s damp forehead.

George watched her like a man drowning.

She turned to him, eyes so full it cracked something in him wide open.

She squeezed his hand one last time.

Like a promise she couldn’t keep.

And then she was gone.

The machines flatlined in a chorus of piercing wails he would hear for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know how long he sat there.

Doctors talking around him, nurses pulling the baby gently from her arms.

He just stared at her face, willing it to move, to smile, to breathe.

When they pried him away, he barely noticed his own tears soaking the hospital gown.

They pressed his newborn into his arms later, after they’d taken her away.

The baby was warm, hiccuping little sobs, red face scrunched up in confusion.

George blinked at the tiny features.

She looked so much like her.

He pressed his lips to the baby’s forehead and felt everything in him split apart.

He stood in the cold corridor outside the delivery room.

Concrete floor freezing through the thin soles of his shoes.

He pressed his fist to his mouth so he wouldn’t scream.

The baby’s cries echoed somewhere behind the doors.

He didn’t look back.

He went home the next day with the baby in his arms.

Alone.

The walls of the nursery were half-painted.

Her handwriting still on Post-its around the apartment.

“Don’t forget to build the crib.”

Plans they’d made crumpled on the counter.

He sat on the floor and held their baby close, breathing in the tiny warmth, telling himself over and over he’d be enough.

Even if he never really believed it.

─── 🏁

There were days he didn’t know how he was going to do it.

George would sit at the edge of the bed, head in his hands, listening to the baby wail in the next room.

He’d force himself up.

He always did.

He learned how to mix formula with one hand while rocking the bassinet with the other.

He learned the different cries.

Hunger. Discomfort. Loneliness.

He talked. Constantly.

As if she were there to listen.

“Yeah, he’s fussy today. Like you were with your coffee orders.”

“He has your eyes. Don’t argue with me, I know you’d say no.”

He read every parenting book he could find, highlighted the pages, but none of them told him how to do it without her.

He tried anyway.

Their boy grew up bright.

So sharp it scared him sometimes.

Quick with questions. Faster with answers.

He liked puzzles.

Science kits.

Books with words George had to look up sometimes just to keep up.

She’d wanted a boy.

She got one.

Just not long enough to know him.

─── 🏁

Every year, without fail, George took him to the cemetery.

When he was small, George would carry him on his hip, pointing out her name on the headstone, voice cracking every time.

As he got older, he walked on his own, small hand wrapped tight around George’s fingers.

George would talk.

About her.

About their old apartment.

About how she was the smartest person he’d ever met.

He’d tell her everything and nothing.

Confessions. Rambling updates. Pleas. Apologies.

But one day, his son interrupted.

“Daddy, can I tell her something?”

George froze.

He nodded.

And sat back while his boy told her about school.

About the new words he learned.

How he was trying to be brave even when he was scared.

After that, it became tradition.

George would sit beside the grave, silent, listening to their son talk.

His heart didn’t know what state it was in anymore.

Heartbreak.

Healing.

Both, somehow.

─── 🏁

The crisp air biting at George’s knuckles as he brushed dirt from the headstone.

Leaves littered the ground in brilliant rust and gold, dry underfoot.

He crouched down, pressing fresh flowers into the small vase they’d placed years ago.

Their son was nearby, chattering to himself, carefully piling leaves into neat little stacks like a tiny groundskeeper.

George smiled softly at that.

Then looked back at her name carved in cold stone.

He let out a slow breath.

Ran a thumb over the etched letters.

“Hey.”

His voice cracked on the single word.

He cleared his throat.

“Guess what. A student interviewed me yesterday.”

He huffed a little laugh.

“Psychology major. Just like us.”

He shook his head, remembering.

“She reminded me of you. All determined questions and serious eyes. Wanted to know about… us. About love that you lose but never really goes away.”

His fingers tapped the headstone gently, like he was trying to get her attention.

“I told her about you.”

Silence settled.

The wind kicked up, scattering a few of the piles their son had made.

George glanced over his shoulder to check on him, still close, humming under his breath.

He turned back, leaning forward slightly.

“You’d be proud of him,” he murmured.

“He’s turning five, you know. Bossy like you. Smart, too. Too smart for me some days.”

He smiled, even as his eyes burned.

“I’m doing my best. I promise.”

He pressed his lips to his fingers, then leaned in to place the kiss carefully against the cool stone.

“Love you,” he whispered.

He straightened slowly, knees protesting.

Glanced back at their boy, who was now watching him with solemn eyes.

“Ready, bud?”

Their son nodded, standing and grabbing the little broom they brought to clean up.

Together, they packed up.

George slung the old tote over his shoulder, offered his hand.

His son took it without a word.

Feeling like his own heart was buried six feet under, too.

But he couldn’t deny it.

Their son had helped him grow a new one.

Stronger than the last.

Strong enough to hold this boy for the both of them.

They walked away from the grave, crackling leaves underfoot, two sets of footprints trailing back toward the gate.

And the wind rustled through the trees, scattering the last of autumn’s leaves behind them.

[1-have-no-idea]

as long as you’re next to me, just the two of us,

Character(s): Rex, reader

Genre: angst, comfort, romance

Overview: Order 66 took everything from everyone, and it took you from Rex. You were lost, but Rex knew you were still out there, and he wouldn’t stop trying until he found you and you were in his arms once again.

Warning(s): Just really angsty, but it ends in a comforting note-, brief language (in Mando’a and basic)

1389 words

———————————————————————————

Order 66 ruined everything. Everyone knows that. It ruined relationships, tore loved ones away… for the clones, Order 66 took away everything they’ve ever known. The Republic? Broken. Corrupted. Known as the Empire, now. Their generals? Their Jedi? They’re gone. Most dead, others in hiding. Their brothers? Well, they were scattered across the galaxy. Some dead, others traitors, others not even the same. They lost everything. Rex lost everything. Once a captain of many and a trusted friend, now in his lonesome and in hiding. But do you know what else he lost that almost all clones didn’t have?

Rex lost you.

His love. His angel. His life. His woman. His cyar’ika.

And kriff, did he miss you. Words could not explain the anguish he had felt when the order was released, when he was aware once again and remembered you were out there, somewhere. Without him, his protection, by yourself… Rex could only pray to whatever higher being there was in this god-forsaken galaxy that you were safe, that maybe you were hiding like him. If you weren’t, then Rex… Rex didn’t like to think about that. But he knew you were out there. Somewhere, across the stars, somewhere in this vast galaxy.

And by the Maker, he would find you. Even if it cost him his life. He would find you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Cyar’ika…”

Rex held his comm to his mouth as he spoke, slumped against the wall. It had been a couple of weeks since he had gone into hiding. He believed it had been maybe three? There’s twenty-one days in three weeks. There’s twenty-four hours in a day. At least on this planet. He would call at least every ten hours. That’s two calls every day. That’s forty-two missed calls.

“I just wanted to see how my girl’s doin’.” He elaborated, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he sat in the slowly brightening alley. “I’m getting by. Just surviving, right now. None of my brothers recognize me. The imperials are always lurking around every corner. I can finally relate to how the Jedi feel. These cloaks weren’t ever really meant for someone like me.” He continued, a little humorless laugh escaping him, trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t know why, you weren’t even on the call. He just wanted to leave a message. He just wanted you to know he was still up and kicking, because he was a stubborn bastard who refused to die.

“These times are hard, I know, mesh’la, but you just are gonna have to hang on tight for me, yeah? I’m coming. I’m gonna find you. I promise you that.” And Maker, he tried to keep that waver out of his voice, but he was really tired right now. He was just… he was really tired. He closed his eyes, bringing a gloved hand up and scrubbing at his worn face, before speaking again. “I miss you. A lot. But I know you’re out there, somewhere, and I swear to the Force, sweet girl, I will find you and we’ll be together again.” He declared with determination, jaw clenching as he promised those words to you. “S’just me and you against the galaxy, Name. Just me and you against the galaxy.” He breathed out, before looking around the alley, hearing the heavy footfall of the imperial’s boots and the marching of his brothers. Ah. It was time. Taking a deep breath in, he sighed through his nose before whispering to you one last time before hanging up.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

Forty-three missed calls.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was warm.

Really warm.

Soft hands moved to cradle Rex’s face, thumbs smoothing out the captain’s worry lines and the furrow of his brow. Then soft lips pressed against it. A hushed whisper, then two—

‘Five more minutes, love. We’re on vacation,’

‘Baby, I have to make breakfast,’

And he’d kiss you to shut you up, hold onto you a little longer and you both would fall back asleep while being embraced. He would’ve held on longer and tighter if he knew it’d come to this. He would’ve held on so tight, that maybe you’d be with him now.

The clone woke up in a confused daze, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes as he looked around for you— oh. He was alone in a bed meant for two. It was just a dream. You weren’t really here. You were still gone. That realization made Rex want to sob. His heart fell to his stomach, and it felt as if his own soul had been torn out of his body. He felt so hollow. Where are you, my sweet girl?

Slowly, sluggishly, Rex moved to grab one of the pillows on the other side of the bed, before tugging it to him. His arms circled around the inanimate object, face burying into it as he hugged it to him. The pillow was cold. You would’ve been warm. And if you weren’t, he would’ve warmed you up. You were more firm. Something that he could feel, because you’d be breathing and he would’ve heard your soft snores. This pillow wasn’t you. It wasn’t. It was an inanimate object. Not you.

…so why was he trying to pretend it was?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It had been months. Months, now. And yet Rex had never stopped looking.

He was still in hiding, though. Had been for too long. Well, he was. Now he was currently trying to help Echo find more clones and bring them in to join the Rebellion, or to at least give them a life that they wanted. Currently, however, he was being chased down by a bunch of imperials who happened to spot him. He swerved into another alley, before jumping over a bunch of boxes that were being shipped out to another planet.

In the adrenaline rush of that moment, he failed to notice the person who was hiding behind those boxes, and crashed into them before tumbling to the ground with them. A cry of pain left the other, and Rex groaned, about to rush off before glancing at the other. He bit his lip in conflict, before moving towards them and extending a hand. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He asked, noticing how the person wasn’t an imperial. Or so he thought. He was being reckless right now.

Until they took his hand and looked up at him.

Oh. Oh.

“Name–” “Rex–?”

It was you. It was really you. More exhausted and burnt out looking, but so was he. Your hair had gotten longer. You had dark circles, but you looked absolutely beautiful to him. Rex’s mouth dropped as he struggled to make words, before something akin to a choked sob left him and he crashed into him, and didn’t you respond with just as much enthusiasm. Your arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders and you gasped, one hand cradling the back of his head. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands scrambling to hold at the back of your shirt while he embraced you, finally remembering what you felt like in his arms. “Oh, Maker–” he gasped out, pulling away to cup your face in his hands, gasping like he didn’t know how to breathe. “I found you– I’ve finally found you–”

“I- I thought you and your brothers–” you stammered, and he shook his head. “Chips— we have chips, I got mine removed, I just–” he cut himself off, before slamming his lips to yours. Conveying his worry, his fear, his determination, his longing, how he missed you, how much he loved you, you responded eagerly, holding the back of his head, before the two of you parted, breathless laughs leaving you. Rex grinned, tears in his eyes as he held you. “Oh, how I’ve missed that,” he commented, and you smiled. “I’ve missed you,” you responded, and Rex was about to reply until he remembered that you two were running.

Helping you up, he held your hand, and for once, he felt whole again. “C’mon, cyar’ika. Us against the galaxy. Just the two of us.” He murmured, and you nodded. “You can say that again.” You sighed out. You could cry and love in private later. But right now? You had to run, once again. This time together.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

“I love you too, Rex.”

[just-b-wilde]

I just have to say—major respect to the OG Handmaid’s Tale fans, and especially to the Osblaine shippers who’ve been here since 2017 and are still standing. Because honestly? Watching this emotional rollercoaster for eight years is nothing short of heroic.

I only jumped on the train in 2022, when five seasons were already out, so it wasn’t as soul-crushing for me at the start… though I’ll admit, the steady decline of Nick and June content hit me too. Hard. Because let’s be real—they were the reason I fell for this show in the first place.

And when you remember that the last truly iconic scene (yes, the bridge kiss) happened all the way back in 2021… it’s just… ugh. The frustration is real.

At this point, I feel like it’s beyond time for the show to give us something genuinely epic. Something that fans will remember—not for the trauma, but for the payoff (please, in a good way this time).

Here’s a little fandom recap:

Season 5 (2022) gave us:

One single phone call

One in-person meeting with zero physical contact (not even a hug, come on)

That hospital scene she wasn’t even aware of

And yeah, all of it was basically angst-inducing and full of emotional pain. The hospital scene was probably the most memorable one, but only because there was literally nothing else to pick from.

Season 6 (2025) so far has given us:

A reunion with a hug (we’ll take what we can get, right?)

A shared mission… that unfortunately revolved around saving Luke, so, bittersweet at best

A few solid conversations and glimpses into Nick’s emotional state (finally)

One painfully awkward Luke-related moment

And the promise of another reunion

But… we’re already halfway through the season and this is all we’ve got?

Honestly? These past two seasons have been rough. We haven’t had a single properly positive Osblaine moment. (Yes, the hug was cute… but that’s not enough to keep us fed.)

So yeah, I’m really hoping the writers are playing the long game—that all this emotional starvation means there’s something big and beautiful waiting for us at the end. Because the fans (and let’s face it, the characters mainly) have more than earned it.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Wherever you wanna go

Written for day 14 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles, and for round one of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Together and Fluff

Rated: T

Tags: Omegaverse; Alpha!Steve; Omega!Eddie; Steddie dads; mpreg (referenced); Domestic fluff

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be

“Okay, we’ve been over this,” Eddie says. “I know you value your independence, and I appreciate your commitment, but there's no shame in accepting a little help, yeah?” 

“No,” Lizzie replies, swatting him off with tiny hands. “Lone.” 

“But-” Eddie says, but she doesn’t listen, just continues her way up the slide with a determined frown. She looks ridiculously like Steve - from the way her chestnut hair falls into her face, all the way to the stubbornly set jaw and pouty bottom lip. Speaking of Steve …

“Stop laughing,” Eddie grouses, admitting defeat and stomping back to their park bench. “You won’t think it’s funny when she falls.” 

“You worry too much,” Steve chuckles, kissing his cheek. “She's gonna be fine.” 

Eddie groans. “The stubborn streak on this kid is unbelievable.” 

“Yeah?” Steve shoots him a side-glance and goes back to his parenting magazine. “Sounds like someone I know.” 

“Well, that’s one thing she gets from me, at least,” Eddie huffs. “I grow her in my own body, go through the absolute hell that is labor, and she pops out looking like your little clone? That's just unfair.”

Steve turns a page. “I’ve read that it’s fairly normal for them to look more like the alpha parent for the first year or two. Keeps us emotionally attached, apparently. And for the record, she gets a lot of things from you.” 

“Huh,” Eddie mutters, slotting closer into his space. It’s getting chilly, but Steve always runs warm, and his sweater is fluffy and soft. “Hope she didn’t get the goldfish brain and the smart mouth. I’d like her to have an easy life.” 

“Hey now. I like your mouth,” Steve smirks. Eddie slaps his arm. “And just so you know, I was talking about your determination and your passion, and your love for music, among other things. The way she goes off when you play that guitar?” 

Eddie grins, even as something in his chest tugs. 

“She is the best audience I’ve ever had,” he concedes. “And my metal version of Wheels on the Bus slaps, I think we can all agree there.”

They lapse into silence for a few seconds.

“Speaking of music,” Steve finally says, setting aside his magazine so that he can take Eddie’s hand. “That new bar on Lincoln’s is looking for live acts. Maybe you should-” 

Eddie shakes his head. The treacherous thing in his chest twists. “Nah, Stevie, I don’t think so.” 

Steve frowns. “Why not? It might be a good way for you to get back into things. You always wanted-” 

“Yes,” Eddie says. “But when these places say they’re looking for music acts, they don’t mean scrawny omegas with a toddler at home.”

He stands, meaning to walk back to Lizzie, but Steve doesn’t let go of his hand. “You can’t know that unless you try. They might say yes. And I’ve no problem staying home with Liz, you know that.”

Something bittersweet and warm blooms behind Eddie’s collarbone. He sighs, sinking back onto the bench. “I know, big boy. You're brilliant with her. That's not what I'm worried about.” 

Steve flushes at the praise, but his eyes hold the same determination as on the day when he first proposed courtship to Eddie. Like he’s ready to tear apart anyone who’ll try and hurt him. 

“You shouldn’t worry at all,” he says. “Whatever you wanna do, wherever you wanna go, we’ll find a way together, yeah? Just … promise me you’ll think about it?” 

Eddie is nodding before he even knows it. How could he do anything else in the face of those earnest puppy-dog eyes? 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning in for a brief kiss. “I guess I can-” 

A loud clang and a shrill cry interrupt him. When they whip around, Lizzie is scrambling upright at the end of the slide and holding her head, big tears running down her cheeks.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, jumping up to get to her, but Steve beats him to it and scoops her up in his arms. 

“That’ll leave a bump,” he says. “Come on, lemme kiss it better.”

Lizzie, whose wails have already quietened, giggles as he leaves a trail of loud, wet smooches all over the side of her face. The warm, fuzzy thing in Eddie’s chest flutters as he joins them. Lizzie burrows her face into his neck, seeking his scent, but refuses to leave Steve’s arms when he attempts to hand her over. Eddie goes for wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist instead, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Oh, isn’t this adorable?”

When they look up, an old lady is standing next to the slide, grocery bags in both hands. 

“Never mind me, dears,” she giggles. “I just think it’s beautiful, seeing young families together like this. You don’t see many alphas being that involved. Don’t let that one go, he’s a keeper.”

“Thank y-” Eddie starts to say, but then it dawns on him that she isn’t looking at him. She’s looking at Steve. Steve, with his fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, who’s cradling their little daughter with the softest, most gooey smile on his face. “Erm, actually-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Steve interrupts him, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m not planning to. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“What the fuck?” Eddie hisses as the woman trundles on and Steve shouts a cheery goodbye after her. “What was that all about?” 

Steve disentangles himself from his embrace, kissing his cheek once more before he carries Lizzie over to her stroller. 

“What?” he calls over his shoulder. “Let people assume what they want, we don’t owe them an explanation.” 

He’s right, Eddie thinks as they start making their way home. They don’t owe anyone shit. As long as the three of them are together and happy, that’s all that matters. 

He’s planning on keeping it this way. 

More holiday drabbles

More steddie bingo

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Fuck it, I love you

Pt. I II III

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Yearning, Unresolved tension, a little toxic

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Time went by faster in Monaco, but they still remained. They love, hurt and admit to being complicated.

Inspired by the song Fuck it, I love you by Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The room was dimly lit, the Monaco skyline glowing faintly through the balcony doors. The sheets were tangled around their bodies, the air thick with something neither of them wanted to name—something heavy, electric.

Y/N turned onto her side, watching Lando in the darkness. He was lying there, staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched like he was trying to fight something off.

She reached out, tracing a slow, deliberate line down his chest. “Talk to me, Lando.” Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, something pleading, something desperate.

He exhaled sharply, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were darker than usual, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know what you want me to say. That I love you? That I can’t get you out of my head? That every time I leave, I end up wanting to crawl back to you?” His voice was rough, strained.

Her fingers stopped at the waistband of his sweats, just barely dipping beneath the fabric before she pulled away. “Then why do you keep running?” she whispered.

Lando sat up, running a hand through his curls. “Because it scares the shit out of me. You scare the shit out of me.” His gaze burned into hers. “I don’t know how to love you without ruining you. Without ruining myself.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. “Then stop fighting it. Stop fighting me. If you want me, then fucking have me. No more leaving, no more excuses. Just… us.”

Silence.

Then, something snapped.

Lando moved fast—faster than she could process—grabbing her wrist, flipping her onto her back. He hovered over her, his breath hot against her cheek, his fingers pressing into her skin like he was afraid she’d disappear.

“You really think I don’t want you?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t crave you every fucking second I’m away?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She didn’t need to speak. The way she looked at him—wide eyes, flushed cheeks, chest rising and falling too fast—was answer enough.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” He leaned down, lips brushing against her jaw, trailing slowly, deliberately, until he reached her ear. “I dream about you. About this. About the way you feel under me.”

She shivered, nails digging into his arms. “Then stop dreaming.”

A low groan escaped his throat. “Fuck, Y/N.”

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, desperate—like a man starved.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, gasping against his mouth as he pressed her deeper into the mattress. “I hate you,” she mumbled between kisses. “I hate how good this feels.”

Lando laughed against her skin, his lips trailing lower, across her collarbone. “Liar.”

She arched beneath him, body burning, fingers gripping his shoulders. “Then make me stop lying.”

His eyes darkened. “Careful what you ask for, love.”

She smirked, a challenge. “I can handle you, Norris.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The air between them sizzled, heavy with want, heavy with something deeper, something that went beyond lust. Because this wasn’t just physical—it never had been. Every touch, every kiss, every breath they shared was a promise, a declaration. A vow that neither of them would ever say out loud, but one they both felt.

Lando’s lips trailed down, slow and deliberate, worshipping her, tasting every inch of skin like he was memorizing her. His fingers traced patterns along her thighs, teasing, making her squirm beneath him. He chuckled, the sound low and smug.

“Patience, baby.”

She groaned, frustrated, reaching up to cup his face, pulling him into another kiss. “No patience. Not tonight.”

That was all he needed.

And when he finally gave in, when he finally let go, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t careless. It was everything. Slow and deep, like he wanted to prove something. Like he wanted her to feel it, to know—

That this wasn’t a mistake. That this wasn’t something fleeting. That she was his, and he was hers.

Later that night the sheets were a mess, twisted around their limbs, the air still thick with warmth. Lando lay beside her, his fingers lazily tracing circles on her bare back. She was curled into his side, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

He kissed the top of her head, exhaling slowly. “You know I’m not leaving this time, right?”

Her breath hitched. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes searching his. “You promise?”

His fingers trailed up to her jaw, tilting her chin slightly. “Yeah. I promise.”

She swallowed, feeling her chest tighten—not with fear, not with doubt, but with something dangerously close to hope. Lando smiled, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m done pretending like I don’t.”

Her eyes softened. “I love you too, Lando.”

And this time, she knew it wasn’t just a fever dream. It was real. It was theirs.

And it was going to last.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Masterlist

[diamond-champagne]

9. It'll Always Be You

Paige Beuckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: none :)

Summary: In which promises are made...and kept

a/n: The end is so close ya'll. Please let me know what yous want next. Also she's short but I love her.

It would be easier if they hated each other. It wouldn’t be this hard. The burning feeling ignited my anger so deep in them would be a welcomed relief of whatever this is. This a constant state of discontentment that has seemed to worm its way into their lives and settle down in their minds. 

It’s like being in a rocking chair and knowing you won’t fall but still feeling the panic that arises anyway. 

It’s like knowing you’re above the surface in the ocean and yet you feel like your lungs are filling with water

It’s like knowing everything is going to be okay but not knowing how.

-

Paige moves through the next couple of days the way the tide rolls in down the shore. She comes and she goes, day in and day out. 

To be fair, this is new to her. The blonde is used to fighting and then making up, or even fighting some more. However, this weird limbo of which they each hold a key to a lock they don’t have is scaringly unfamiliar. They used to be perfectly intertwined and now they’re chaotically tangled. Both pulling on random threads, having no clue if they want to be closer together or further apart. 

Paige is plagued with the will they, won’t they. Azzi and her are trapped playing this game of cat and mouse and she’s not sure who is who. The worst part is that she isn’t sure why they’re doing this because every time, since that conversation with Azzi, she feels like her forever is right in front of her. 

-

“I trust you with my life, just not my heart.”

“What does this mean for us?” Azzi whispers. Her body suddenly lags with defeat and upset clouds her eyes.

“It means,” Paige starts before letting out a sigh. “It means that maybe we need to figure out why we’re scared before we can face them.” She can see the protest rise in Azzi so the blonde is quick to keep speaking. “You said that sometimes my feelings were too much so maybe you need to figure out why that scares you. While you do that, I will figure out why I’m scared to trust you to love me.

“And once we do that?” 

“Once we get to the root of our fears, maybe we’ll be in a place where we can be more than friends.”

“Maybe?” Azzi sasses. The word might be the most offensive thing she’s ever heard.

“Maybe,” Paige confirms. “Because I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to be hurt. We can’t give each other the love we feel like the other deserves while being scared of said love.”

Azzi shakes her head in understanding. “And what if you decide this isn’t what you want anymore?” The question makes the brown-haired girl’s heart drum against her ribcage. 

It’ll always be you” Paige states. Despite the tears in both of their eyes, Azzi can see sincerity in her favorite pair of eyes. So, she smiles and counters with her own whispered promise. “It’ll always be us.”

So the two stand, facing each other, in this in-between space of friends and lovers. They bask in knowing there’s something yet mourn not having everything. It’s the definition of bittersweet. 

-

The memory is engraved into the blonde’s head the same those words are engraved into her heart. The spoken vowels play on repeat through her mind all day like her favorite song or the newest tik tok sound. She won’t forget these words though. They’ll always be hers to keep; always hers to love.

Until their day comes, Paige will savor the inbetween the best that she can. She’ll revel in the feeling of having Azzi’s eyes on her when they’re out with the team. She memorizes the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other when the pair sit next to each other. The blonde will make it a point to have their fingers touch in passing.

It’s the little things that make this worth it. It’s the little things that make Paige think that maybe they can rush this after all. But then, there’s a specific smile that Azzi has just for the blonde. And when Paige sees it, she knows that this is worth the wait.

But then she’s back to being restless and a little impatient. This much she tells Azzi in the bar bathroom at Ted’s when the girls are a little more free with their alcohol than usual. Tale as old as time and true as can be; Azzi and Paige will only want each other when a drop of liquor is involved. 

“I don’t remember why we’re doing this.” Paige mumbles. Azzi has got her trapped between her body and the sink. The curly-haired girl’s hands are tracing patterns on the blonde’s hip.

“You should. It was your idea.” Azzi answers smugly. The smirk on her face isn’t a result of their conversation but rather how the blonde is reacting to the mere feather touch by Azzi. Her blue eyes are low and hooded. Her body immediately pushes closer to Azzi’s upon contact. The voice that usually drips in confidence is breathy and broken. 

It’s a high that Azzi will never be free from. It’s her favorite version of Paige. The one she can ruin completely if you give her the opportunity. The brown-hair girl knows she should stop. They’re supposed to be taking things slow. But Paige is so perfect infront of her and neither one is sober at the moment so it’s easy to justify when their lips crash together. The kiss starts fast and desperate but ends being slow and passionate. It pulls small moans and whimpers from both girls as they indulge in each other.

When they finally pull apart, there is considerable distance between them. It’s like they both know that this is a bad idea. It’s like they both know they don’t care. But they stay separated at the whispered promise of “You” that Azzi lets out. 

“It’ll always be you.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[crescenthistory]

and put a bow on it

pairing: maysilee donner x fem!reader

synopsis: after being accidentally separated at the cornucopia, maysilee clings to the promise of you staying together during the games as she goes looking for you.

wc: 2.2k

cw: mostly sotr canon compliant (sotr spoilers!), hunger games typical warnings, discussions of death and grief, reunion, fluffy hurt/comfort (as far as that's possible), undefined but acknowledged relationship, bittersweet

notes: this is part two to tying up loose ends, but can be read as a standalone<3

It had been 12 hours since the bloodbath and Maysilee had not seen your face.

In the chaos and whirlwind of the Caesar Flickerman waiting room, the two of you had exchanged whispered promises of meeting up immediately after the bloodbath. Fingers brushing against each other as you stood side by side, trying to not be noticed while also milking each second together. 

She had stolen every possible moment she could with you, from the walk to and from the tribute centre, to various training exercises, and waiting rooms like this one. With a sea of coloured lights flooding your face, creating the most gorgeous pattern she had been blessed to witness, you had smiled at her.

It was the first time she saw it in full, and it floored her. This was an awful point of her life to be garnering up dreams, but she ached to see it again, over and over. 

Once you had agreed to be allies, even be her friend, to join the Newcomers for all intents and purposes, there was nothing more stopping Maysilee. Apart from the cameras and piercing eyes, of course.

“It’s best to split up as soon as the Game starts,” you had strategised. “All Newcomers run in various directions to ensure as many as possible survive. We have no chance in a direct stand-off, no matter our numbers.”

“I agree.” Of course she did. “Wyatt and I have to grab Lou Lou, but then we’ll run. Hope to regroup with everyone else.”

“Yes. Hope.” The way you looked at her didn’t speak to high amounts of it.

“We’ll be the team within the team,” she had promised. “I will find you.”

You discreetly linked your pinky around hers. Squeezed. “Head towards wherever the most crowded form of vegetation is. We can hide out there and mentally regroup.” 

Those words, that directive she chose to see as a promise, repeated in Maysilee’s mind as her platform raised her up into the arena. They kept repeating still, even as she was disoriented and alone in the forest, covered in her friend’s blood and clutching to what little supplies she had. Mentally regrouping on her own near the clearing.

If her internal clock was still accurate, the night sky announcements of the dead were still a few hours away; she couldn’t decide whether she dreaded them or longed for the clarification. There was no way to deny the desperation in her heart that she wouldn’t see you among the stars.

The cannons never go off during the bloodbath, but she had heard a few afterwards that she wasn’t able to locate. Now she was trudging her way back from the mountainside, towards the cornucopia, muscles weary and full of sorrow as she had to admit defeat, to accept that she had lost Lou Lou.

Within the span of a few hours, her district had been halved. Wherever Lou Lou wound up, one thing Maysilee was certain was that there was a cannon ready for that little girl at any moment. She just hoped that the hours Wyatt had given her, in that final fuck you of his to the Capitol and the Callows who were profiting off of betting the so-called weakest died first, were well spent.

Maybe she’s too far gone to realise the danger she is in. Yes, that’s what Maysilee decided to hope for. It was the only way to carry on into the night.

She needed to get up high somewhere to figure out where the vegetation was thickest. In the flurry of it all, her mind recoiling from the bloodied sight of Wyatt as her legs carried her after Lou Lou on their own accord, Maysilee had barely gotten a glance of the arena. She knew you would have done better, that in your silent observance, you would have figured out exactly where the thickest vegetation was and slipped away unnoticed. 

Her thoughts couldn’t help but trail off to the few times all the Newcomers gathered, how you, despite your previous withholdings, had supported the youngins, your hands resting on shoulders and cheeks. Maybe you had ran off with one of them. Maybe you weren’t as alone as her.

Boom. 

The sound reverberated through Maysilee’s mind, making her head spin as her body did the same, twirling around herself with her guard up, looking for any dangers. For the source, the killer.

The forest around her was quiet. She longed for the distinctiveness of your silence.

With new determination, Maysilee moved her blowgun over onto her back and began to climb a nearby tree. In her mind, she saw her old schoolfriends watching the Games on a pixelated screen, mouths agape at seeing her ascend into the trees, getting her hands dirty.

If only they could see how many buildings she had climbed at night in Twelve.

At the top, she stayed low, not wanting to be spotted by anyone else who happened to utilise the same strategy, though the chance felt low. From her elevation, she could see the formation of the arena, her stomach sinking as she realised the shape of it. An eye.

She fought the urge to roll her own. Then she thought better of it, and stopped fighting.

One thing that was clear to her though was that she was on the wrong side of the arena. On the opposite side, the forest was thick and bountiful, starting with a meadow so high one could surely lay low there without being seen. The mountainside had less vegetation, less opportunities to hide. If she wasn’t mistaken, that’s where most tributes headed – it’s at least the direction Lou Lou skidded off in.

Which meant that not only would she be safest if she got to the other side, but she might even find you.

She thanked every dance class she had ever bored her way through as she silently stalked through the forest, doing her best to stay out of sight as she rounded the cornucopia. Blowgun loaded and ready, ears on edge.

She barred every thought of you from her head momentarily so she could focus. She did the same with Haymitch, Lou Lou and Wyatt, with the youngins she had bonded with over crafts.

The second Maysilee got close enough to slip into the meadow on her way to the forest, she did. On the one hand, it felt terrifying to move somewhere it was so difficult to orient yourself and see enemies coming up close. On the other, it would make it more difficult for others to spot her as well. It was worth the risk to move away from the sparse trees.

The meadow was high enough that she only needed to crouch down slightly to move through it, hopefully shielded from view even as she remained ready.

Her eyes were preoccupied with scanning the meadow ahead of her – so much so that she reacted a second too late when a hand wrapped around her ankle.

For a moment, Maysilee’s heart stopped as she was yanked to the ground.

There were brief flashes in her mind; not quite her entire life, but close enough. She saw Merrilee’s name in block letters on her bedroom door, the one she moved into when the girls turned 6 and wanted their own spaces. She saw Asterid giggling, kicking rocks on their way home from school in 2nd grade. She saw the Newcomers all gathered around her, Haymitch, Wyatt and Lou Lou, a strange miniature imitation of a family. 

She saw your eyes. She saw her blowgun.

As Maysilee’s back hit the dirty ground, she managed to whip the blowgun around, fear making space for determination settling into her expression.

It was while sprawled out on the meadow floor, muscles tensed, that she saw the last two flashes before her, this time in the flesh. Her blowgun aimed at your eyes.

You looked rough. Not in the way that made her affections lessen, on the contrary, it made them grow as an insistent desire to shield you occupied her heart. The dirt on your brow, the blood smeared across your collarbone and the front of your misfortunately coloured District 8 uniformed. 

“Maisie?” you whisper-hissed, as if in disbelief at seeing her again. Fingers still resting around her ankle.

With her weapon aimed at you and your body crouched over, as if ready to spring and attack, Maysilee had a morbid flashback to when you shared your concerns about allying with anyone. “I don’t want the last thing I experience to be betrayal”. She could all but hear the Capitol citizens sit at the edge of their seats, covering their eyes in hesitation or chanting in vindication at the thought that this might not be a reunion. It might be an extension of the slaughter.

You stayed true to the first promise you gave her, long before any plans on teaming up. The promise to be a terrible tribute.

You defied the audience and launched yourself forward to pull her into a hug.

On the ground, surrounded by dirt and likely-poisonous plants, Maysilee instantly dropped her blowgun when you shoved it to the side and wrapped her arms around you in turn. Your body was a steady weight against hers as you desperately clung to each other.

She found that her hand was shaking when she brought it up to the back of your head.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice deep and unsteady. “Thought I lost you.”

She meant that you got separated, but there was an underlying second interpretation to the word lost that both of you had enough empathy to ignore.

You pulled back, hand burning her skin as you placed it on her cheek. It gripped her firmly, making her furrow her eyes slightly until she realised – you were turning her head slightly, eyes scanning, searching. For injuries, for marks.

She put her hand over yours, making your eyes flick back up to hers. “I’m alright,” she said, emphasising each word. “Are you?”

“I’m doing marvelously.” You seemed a bit cheeky at the sarcastic comment. It reassured her nonetheless, and Maysilee noticed how some of the tension seeped from her muscles. 

It took everything in her not to kiss you right there and then.

She wouldn’t let the cameras capture that.

Gently, she moved you over to your side, so she could prop her weight up on her elbow and study you in turn, while still trying to keep an eye on the surrounding area. The last thing she wanted was to be surprised in this arena.

“Don’t worry.” Your whisper brought her attention back to you. She realised her hand was resting on your hip – her stomach did a flip at the thought that you let it. “Wellie and the others are watching over us from the trees, they’ll blow a whistle if they see anyone approaching. Their scouting is how we spotted you, so they're good.”

That snapped her focus back to business. “Wellie?”

The slight curl of your lip seemed to be almost abashed. “I… Yeah. I tried to get out of there right away, but when I saw Velo and Miles go down, I… I just had to scoop up Wellie and Atread. It wasn’t fair. Got the remnants of District 7 with me as well. What a bargain.”

There were too many emotions packed into that one sentence for Maysilee to quite be able to see straight. She had no way of knowing exactly who died in the bloodbath; she was too caught up in the horror of Wyatt and Lou Lou. The thought of little Velo and Miles, whose tokens she had held mere days ago…

No. She could not sacrifice time and energy thinking too hard on that at the moment. If she made it out, she could spend the rest of her life grieving. 

Instead she zeroed in on the one heartwarming aspect of the story. Despite the shine in her eyes, she shot you a playful look. “Miss Solitude found the power of friendship in the end.”

That brought a smile to your lips, albeit haunted. Maysilee still counted it as a win. “Yeah, well, it’s easier to distance yourself when you’ve got a whole warehouse instead of a small field.” You looked up at her through your lashes and Maysilee held her breath. “And… considering the rest of my district went down with one swipe, I figured I best cling to the last strings of attachments. Be a terrible tribute and all.”

Maysilee hadn’t known that. She wanted to ask who did it, make sure she spared a dart for them – but that wasn’t very helpful.

So she whispered, “I’m sorry,” instead.

You gave her a small nod, averting your eyes a little bit. “I’m sorry too.”

She didn’t need to ask about what.

You placed your hand over hers on your hip and squeezed it, removing it to get ready to help her get up. “We shouldn’t stay here, Maisie. Let’s get you over to the wider reunion. Grant the others with the privilege of your presence.”

To have gone from Twelve to Maisie was the real privilege.

She grasped your hand in turn, letting you pull her up. “I’ll go where you go, darling.”

[ynsvnte]

Haunt me — Sim Jaeyun

pairing: agent!Jake x nurse!reader — genre: angst, some fluff, drabble — Synopsis: Who knew how would it be without his love.. thinking back to the event how he lost his only love. His last love. His forever love.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mcd (main character death) death, blood, crying, pet names, bittersweet ending

Masterlist

recommend listening to “To get better” by Wasia Project while reading!

“Will I die..?”

Those words haunted him.. it’s been 826 days. 2 years, 3 months and 6 days.. those exact 3 words never left his mind. It became a part of him. He promised.. promised to.. be with you..till the end. As he still grieves with your loss.. he tries to recover but that seems impossible.

“No I won’t let that happen trust me.. I’ll make sure you’ll live..” you let out a sob of pain.. the pain of leaving him.. and also the pain you’re in now. “Jake but..-“

“No.. don’t finish it..” He shuts his eyes.. your blood on his hands as he tries to stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Without you he’ll be lost. He wanted to keep living for you. Even with the ups and downs of your relationship.. although you both weren’t actually together.

You cough out blood. Losing consciousness each second passing by. “Jake just so you know..”

“Stop.. you're not dying..” you reach your hand and place it on top of his while you lay on the ground. “Jake.. I love you.. so much..” you say weakly. “Please stop.. I’ll get help soon..” his vision starts getting more blurry. He couldn’t lose you now.

“I don’t want to die.. please..” you begged. “Love.. I promise.. promise once we’re both out of here.. we’ll move away for a new fresh start. None of this dirty work…” You smiled at the thought, the thought of paradise where no restrictions could stop you both. Your love was too strong. Jake’s gaze softened. Your smile was so beautiful, pretty.

His pretty girl.

“What if I do di-“ you started he didn’t want to hear any what if’s good or bad. The thought of losing you scared him to death. He dealt with many losses but this one. This one may be the worst. “I won’t let that happen.. Please just keep looking at me. Don’t think..” He didn’t want to cry not when you were on the verge of losing your life

Your sobs quiet down a bit. Slowly trying to breathe at a normal pace. You hold Jake’s hands in yours. This may be the last time. Who knows. Jake took one hand and smiled at you. He smiles, becoming weaker and weaker. The cold feeling against his skin. You have a gunshot wound.. He tried to distract you from it. Despite his own injuries. Jake picks you up, noticing you losing your consciousness a bit, but still breathing. He starts walking towards the exit. You both were so close. Until a stupid bastard decides to shoot you before fleeing.

Each step took too much effort. Exhausted reaching him. Jake pushes through. You weren’t going to die. You were going to live and move far away from this country and live a happy life. Your skin is getting colder and colder and even pale. He didn’t want to lose hope.

—

“You know you're the only person I really opened up to..” you spoke while taking a sip of your coffee. Jake stared at you in surprise. He felt his heart start racing. Was he gaining feelings?

—

“Why..? Why did you trust him? I loved you. To even think of giving up my long life dream to stay here with you!!” You yelled tears down your face.

“No it’s not that he had documents that proved—“ “Prove what! Jake.. I’m leaving. I can't be in this mess any more.” Jake stayed silent. “No you’re not leaving” you sighed in frustration, tears streaming down your face. 

“I trusted you! And yet here you are.. betraying me.. Jake those papers are fake. I never worked for those people.”

—

The memories of how you got here flooded his mind. Jake pushes the door open. But it wouldn’t budge open. For fucks sakes hurry up. “Open this fucking door.” He was losing his cool each second with your life on the line. He had to hurry. Once the door finally opens he rushes through.

“You're here..” he says as he sees the team's doctor.. he sets your body onto the ground.. “Hurry up save her..” he demanded he was going to get you back. The doctor was startled. But quickly acted fast on saving you.

And 2 hours passed. He was getting anxious as he waited outside of the truck. Were you alive..? And finally once the back door opens the doctor steps out. Silence. “How’s she..?” He felt his gut twist. “I-I’m sorry..”

Jake could feel his heart crack. Bleeding out. Not you. Why you! He promised to keep you alive, but it was far too late. “What do you mean.. she still had a pulse when we got here.. how did she—“ He was in rage. History repeats itself. His life was always shitty and it just kept getting worse. Too much happened in one night.

“I don’t believe you.” He was in denial. He walked towards the doctor before he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Why didn’t you try hard enough?” The doctor pushes him off. “I did!.. She lost too much blood.

And here he was now.. sat down right here.. staring at your face. You always looked so beautiful. His heart is still beating for you. He visited you everyday. Never missing a day. The memories always came back whenever he was here. How he could’ve been quicker, how he could’ve stopped you from getting there in the first place.

He shakes.. tears threatening to come out. He lets go. Letting his emotion take over. He was a weak man when it came to you. You had that affect.

I miss you each day.. wishing I would wake up and the first thing I see is you. I miss the days where I would go to work and see you. The highlight of my day.

You, my love made me feel another way no else could make me feel. I love you. I fell hard for you. Even with my rough past. You managed to get past my guard, tearing it apart.

I will never let you go.. my love.. my pretty girl. You’re the reason why I live today.

To see you here laying in peace. No parasites to harm you. No one will harm you. I wish I told you how much I loved you. I had many chances, but it’s far too late. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don’t forget that. Now sleep peacefully love.

Jake sets the flowers down on your grave, smiling. He strokes your headstone, staring at your photo. He places a kiss on it. He gets up before walking away. Tomorrow he’ll see you again, and again, and again, and again, and again…

Author’s note: So hey.. I made this after reading sinful on wattpad by tanyasapple it’s actually a Leon book but I made into a Jake drabble. I sobbed while reading it. It’s inspired by its recent update (chapter 34) Soo angst bc I’m in that mood.

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[txjuns]

That’s so true

Pairing: reader x Heeseung

Inspired by “That’s so true - Gracie Abrams”

I highly recommend listening to it while reading this

Synopsis: You and Heeseung had been broken up for almost two months. You were highschool sweethearts. When both of you went to college, things got harder on both of you. You couldn’t see each other because you were constantly busy, so you both just decided to end it.

Warnings: angst, sexual themes, smut (kinda?), pretty sad imo

A/n: here’s a little something I wrote a while ago while I’m busy writing another part for my Taesan fic.

Night of the break-up

You and Heeseung were laying on the hood of his car, watching the stars. The cold air was nipping at your exposed arms which sent a shiver through your whole body. He noticed immediately and pulled you closer.

You looked up at him, a faint smile softened his features.

“I forgot how quiet it is here” he said, his voice low, almost like he didn’t want to disturb the stillness around you.

You nodded against his chest, “You get used to it after a while. The city’s more exciting anyway.”

“It is,” Heeseung admitted, “but it’s not home”

The words lingered in the air between you, heavy and bittersweet. Heeseung had been back in town for just three days, a fleeting visit during winter break. You’ve been counting down the days since he left for college, imagining what it would feel like to see him again, but now that he was here, the reunion felt more fragile than you’d expected. Like something beautiful you couldn’t quite hold onto.

“What’s it like there?” You asked, needing to fill the space between you. “College, I mean.”

He exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “It’s… different. Fast. Loud. Everyone’s trying to prove something.” He turned his head to look at you, his voice softening. “It’s not bad. Just… not what I thought it’d be.”

You hesitated, then asked the question you’d been avoiding. “Do you think you’ll stay there after graduation?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled you closer. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think I’m supposed to. There’s more opportunities there, you know? But…” He trailed off, his gaze returning to the stars.

You didn’t need him to finish. You knew what he meant—what he wasn’t saying.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling just enough for him to notice. “We knew this was going to happen.”

He looked down at you and you could feel his arms loosening around you. “Y/n—”

“It’s okay,” you repeated, cutting him off. You forced a smile, even though it hurt. “We can’t hold each other back. You have your life, and I have mine. It’s just… not the right time for us.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s over,” he said, his voice urgent. “We’ll find each other again. When it is the right time.”

You looked at him, your heart breaking and swelling all at once. “Promise me?”

He reached for your hand, his fingers lightly threading through yours. ���I promise.”

For a moment, you stayed like that, your hands clasped, the stars above you indifferent to the ache in your hearts.

—

You were moping around your apartment, with a ringing in your head. You’ve been stressed, because of all your classes. The lingering feeling from 2 months ago wasn’t helping either.

You and Heeseung haven’t talked since that night. Which was strange, because you both promised to stay in touch. The kiss goodbye at the airport gave you a little bit of hope that things would get better, but now you felt stupid for thinking that. I think about your dumb face all the time.

You looked at your phone and the time read 6:45. You plopped onto your bed, thinking you were going to have an early night. That was until you received a message from Yunjin. “Party tonight. Look hot. It’s not a question.”

You groaned in protest. Promising Yunjin to go to that frat party with her was probably your biggest mistake ever. You didn’t feel like partying at all, let alone get drunk. She never knew when to stop. It was always shot after shot, and not even a sip of water in between. That girl is a real party animal.

—

The music thumped through the walls, a bass-heavy beat that seemed to vibrate in your already aching head. You weren’t sure why you decided to come to the party. You hated these kinds of things, the noise, the press of bodies.

“You need to get out, have fun,” Yunjin said, dragging you out of your sulking state. “I know things are hard right now, but that’s why you need to unwind and set your inner animal free.”

You rolled your eyes at her, “The last thing I want to do to “unwind” is go to a frat party.”

Yunjin grabbed your arm and dragged you into the kitchen, “You need a drink asap.”

As Yunjin was pouring your drink, you saw someone approaching out of the corner of your eye.

“Y/n! You came?” You turned towards the voice and saw Jungwon.

Your eyes widened. “Jungwon? No way!” You squeeled and immediately went in for a hug, nuzzling your nose into his shoulder.

Jungwon is your best friend since your first day of high school. Ride or die homie since day one.

He went off to college 2 hours away. That didn’t stop him from regularly coming to visit. You guys would have sleepovers with Yunjin and Sunoo. Your only two friends who stayed in town.

You pulled away and looked at him in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You smacked his shoulder.

He let out a chuckle, “I wanted to surprise you,” he had a bright smile on his face and that iconic eye smile. “It was all part of the plan, right Yunjin?”

Yunjin giggled and you smacked her arm too. “You knew about this?!”

“Well it was a surprise,” she said with a warm smile.

You and Jungwon were sitting on the couch, catching up on everything. Yunjin disappeared after saying she needed to dance.

“How is everyone else?” You asked, trying to remeber everyone’s faces. They haven’t had the chance to come visit yet.

“Where do I begin?” He thought for a second. “Niki got an audition to join a major dance crew, Jake is the captain of the college football team, Sunghoon’s ice-skating career is sky-rocketing, Jay is in a band and Chaewon has her own art exhibition.”

Your mouth fell open hearing about your friends’ successes. You felt glad that they were doing well for themselves.

“Oh, and Heeseung is captain of the basketball team” your heart sank when you heard his name.

Jungwon noticed your change in behavior when your head dropped, “Listen, I heard what happened. I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just stared at your lap.

Jungwon grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “If it makes you feel better, which it probably won’t, I haven’t talked to him since. None of us have.”

You held onto his hand, “It’s okay. It was bound to happen.”

“Can I get you another drink?” Jungwon said as he stood up.

“That would be lovely, Jungwon. Thank you.” He grabbed the two cups and made his way to the kitchen.

Your head started thumping again so you dropped it onto your hands that were propped up on your knees. The music made it so much worse. You looked around the room, watching people dance against each other, spilling their drinks and some even making out.

Your eyes locked with his. Those eyes were all too familiar. So much so that every inch of pain you felt that night, came rushing back. He had a crooked smile on his lips, that once was yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the girl holding onto his arm. What. The. Fuck.

The girl was beautiful and effortlessly put together, the kind of girl who seemed to belong at parties like this. She leaned into Heeseung’s side , her hand resting lightly on his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You felt the ground tilt beneath you, the world narrowing to just the two of you. You could still feel the ghost of his promise, whispered under the stars just two months ago: “I’ll come back for you.”

You noticed that he was wearing the leather jacket that you gave him on his birthday. All while his arm was around another woman. You wondered if she could still smell your scent when he wears that.

But here he was, like you were nothing more than a memory.

“Y/n? You okay?” Jungwon’s voice snapped you back to reality. You turned to find your friend watching you with concern, his brows knit together. He handed you your drink.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hollow. You took a long sip from your cup, hoping it would dull the ache that was spreading through your chest.

You turned back toward Heeseung just in time to see the girl laugh, her head tipping back, and him leaning closer, his expression warm, familiar. I’ve been there too.

You couldn’t watch anymore. “I need some fresh air.” You said and Jungwon pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. You set your cup down on the nearest surface and turned towards the door, the pounding music fading into the background as you slipped outside.

The cold air hit you like a slap, but you welcomed it. You pressed your palms to your face, trying to breathe through the wave of emotions crashing over you—anger, sadness, disbelief.

Two months. That was all it had taken for him to move on.

You heard the door creak open behind you and stiffened. For a second, you thought it might be him, coming after you, but it was Jungwon again.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “He’s here. With someone else.”

Jungwon’s face softened, and he stepped closer, pulling you against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

You let yourself be held, your tears hot against the cold night air. Jungwon’s heart broke when he heard your sobs, so he pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t stay here, couldn’t face him again—not tonight, maybe not ever.

You wiped your tear-stained face. Jungwon convinced you to stay since you haven’t seen each other in so long. You just had to avoid him and his new girl. No, I know, I know, fuck off.

—

You’d told Jungwon you wanted to leave, but something in you refused to go. Maybe it was stubbornness, or maybe it was that little, traitorous part of your heart that still wanted to see him—to see if he was happy without you.

You walked into the house and saw Yunjin standing in the corner. You went over to her and she immediately saw your reddened eyes. You caught up on what happened and she gave you a massive hug.

Yunjin was watching you carefully, her eyes darting between you and Heeseung across the room. Finally, she grabbed your arm. “You’re not hiding over here all night. Come on.”

“Yunjin, no,” you hissed, panic flashing across your face.

“Yes,” Yunjin insisted, pulling you toward the kitchen where Heeseung stood with his new girl. You dug your heels into the floor, but Yunjin wasn’t having it. Before you could protest again, you were there, standing just a few feet away from him.

Heeseung looked up, and when his eyes landed on you, his smile faltered for the briefest of moments. But then he recovered, the easy grin returning to his face. “Hey, Y/n,” he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Your throat tightened, but you managed a small smile. “Hi, Heeseung.”

The girl turned to look at you, curiosity flickering in her brown eyes. She had the kind of energy that lit up a room—effortlessly magnetic. “Oh, is this Y/n?” she asked, her voice warm and friendly.

You blinked in surprise. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

The girl beamed and stuck out her hand. “I’m Karina. Heeseung’s told me so much about you. I’ve been dying to meet you!”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You glanced at Heeseung, who looked slightly uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure how this was going to go. But Karina’s enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

Karina tilted her head, her smile widening. “You’re even prettier than Heeseung said. And let me just say, you have great taste in music—he played me that playlist you made him. Absolute fire.”

You blinked again, caught completely off guard. You glanced at Heeseung, who rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly regretting sharing that detail.

“I—thank you,” you managed, a small laugh escaping your lips despite your true feelings.

Yunjin, sensing the tension easing, jumped in. “Karina, where are you from? You’re not local, right?”

Karina launched into a story about her college and how she’d met Heeseung in one of their classes. As she spoke, you found herself relaxing, drawn in by Karina’s easygoing nature. She was funny, genuinely kind, and effortlessly charming. But I think I love her, she’s so fun. Wait I think I hate her.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Heeseung saw in her that he hadn’t seen in you—or maybe he had, and that’s why he’d chosen someone so different.

But then Karina said something that made you freeze. “You know, Heeseung says he’d never have survived the first semester if it wasn’t for all the advice you gave him. You’re kind of a legend, you know.”

You glanced at Heeseung, who was looking at the floor, his ears turning pink. “I didn’t say it like that,” he mumbled.

Karina laughed, nudging him playfully. “Oh, he totally did. And I get it now—you’re great.”

For the first time that night, you felt a strange sense of peace. It wasn’t the painful confrontation you feared, nor was it the awkward reunion you dreaded. Karina was fun, Heeseung seemed happy, and you realized that he genuinely feels nothing for you now.

Yunjin leaned in, whispering in your ear, “She’s cool, huh?”

You nodded slowly, your lips curving into a genuine smile. “Yeah. She is.” You said, though you hated to admit it.

When you looked back, Heeseung was staring at you. It was as if he could sense every emotion you were feeling. Or he noticed your redened eyes and felt somewhat guilty for what he’d done.

You couldn’t be around them anymore. As much as you like Karina as a person, thinking of them doing the things that you used to do hurt too much.

—

You rembered the night you and Heeseung had your first intimate moment.

It had been late September, the air still warm but tinged with the crispness of fall. You were in Heeseung’s room, a small lamp casting a golden glow across the space. You just returned from one of your long walks around town, the kind where you’d talk about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow as easily as your laughter.

That night had been different, though. There was a quiet tension between you, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but instead felt electric. You both knew something was shifting, something you couldn’t quite put into words but could feel in the way your hands lingered when you touched or in the way his gaze seemed to hold yours a little longer than usual.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his guitar resting against the wall nearby. You remembered teasing him about his music taste, laughing as he defended his love for cheesy 2000s punk songs. But as your laughter faded, the silence between you grew heavy again, charged with unspoken feelings.

“You’re staring at me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, his lips curling into a small, nervous smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You rolled her eyes, but your heart pounded in your chest. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours so softly it made you shiver. When he pulled you closer, you didn’t resist.

He presses his lips against your, slow and tentative at first, as if he was testing the waters. But soon, the hesitation melted away, replaced by something deeper, something raw and unguarded. His hands found your waist, your arms looped around his neck, and the rest of the world seemed to blur into nothingness.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice filled with both desire and concern.

You nodded, your cheeks warm but your eyes steady. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

What followed was a dance of discovery, a clumsy but tender exploration of each other. You whispered nervous jokes and stifled giggles as you fumbled with buttons and zippers, the intimacy of the moment both exhilarating and terrifying. He had been so gentle, so careful, checking in with you every step of the way.

Afterwards, you laid tangled together under his blanket, your limbs intertwined as if you were trying to become one. You remembered the way his fingers traced absentminded patterns on your arm, the soft kisses he placed on your forehead, and the way he whispered your name like it was the only word he wanted to say.

“I love you,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost thought you imagined it.

You had looked up at him, your heart full and aching all at once. “I love you too.”

—

You closed the bathroom door behind you and leaned against it, the muffled noise of the party outside suddenly distant. Your hands gripped the edges of the sink as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed, your breath uneven. Seeing Heeseung with Karina—laughing, smiling, and fitting so seamlessly into a life that didn’t include you—had been harder than you thought.

There was a knock on the door.

“Occupied,” you called, trying to steady your voice.

“Y/n, it’s me.”

Your stomach sank. Heeseung.

You hesitated, but then you unlocked the door and opened it a crack. He was standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his face drawn tight.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Can we talk?”

You sighed but stepped aside, letting him in. As soon as the door clicked shut, the tension between you were suffocating.

“What’s there to talk about?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“You’re upset,” he said, his voice low.

You laughed, a bitter sound. “Upset? What gave you that idea? The fact that I had to watch you with your new girlfriend all night?”

“Karina’s not my girlfriend,” he said quickly.

“Oh, sure,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “She’s just a random girl you bring to parties and laugh with like she’s the best thing in the world.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened. “She’s a distraction, okay?”

That made you pause. “A distraction?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice rising. “Because it’s easier to pretend I don’t miss you when I’m with her.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. “What?” You whispered, your arms falling to your sides.

“I miss you, Y/n,” he said, his voice breaking. “I miss everything about you. I thought maybe if I… if I tried to move on, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But it does. God, it hurts every day.”

You stared at him, your anger melting into confusion, then something softer. “Then why, Heeseung? Why her? Why didn’t you just call me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Because you told me to let you go. You said we couldn’t hold each other back, remember? I thought I was doing what you wanted. What was best for you.”

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I didn’t want you to forget about me,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I’m not happy,” he said, stepping closer. “Not without you.”

The air between you were thick with unspoken words, unprocessed feelings. Heeseung hesitated before reaching for your hand. You let him, your fingers intertwining like they used to.

“I still love you, Y/n,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to stop, and I don’t think I ever will.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks, but you smiled through them. “I still love you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you just stood there, holding onto each other like you were the only solid things in a spinning world.

“What do we do now?” You asked, your voice cracking.

He squeezed your hand. “We figure it out. I’ll drive here every weekend if I have to. I’ll write you letters, I’ll call you every night—I don’t care how hard it is. I’m not losing you again.”

Your breath hitched as the tension in the small bathroom became almost unbearable.

He stood so close now, his hand still holding yours, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. His gaze softened as he searched your eyes, and the way he looked at you made your knees feel unsteady.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion, "I mean it. I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me you'll let me."

Your chest tightened, the intensity of his words pulling you closer to him in ways you couldn't fight. "I don't know how to stop loving you either," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I tried, but I couldn't."

Heeseung's free hand came up to your face, his touch warm and familiar. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as though he couldn't believe you were real.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes briefly as your defenses crumbled.

"Then don't stop," he said softly.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft at first, almost like he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn't.

You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as all the pain and longing of the past months melted into something warmer, something that felt like home.

The kiss deepened, and suddenly, the cramped bathroom didn't matter. He pressed you gently against the sink, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you could feel the way his heartbeat matched yours. Fast, frantic, and filled with everything you hadn't been able to say.

"Y/n," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "God, I missed you."

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your forehead resting against his. "I missed you too," you whispered, your hands trailing down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

For a moment, you just stood there, holding onto each other like you were afraid to let go. Heeseung's hands slid up your back, his touch slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of you. You shivered under his touch, your heart racing as he pressed another kiss to you lips, this one deeper, more urgent.

"Are we really doing this here?" You asked breathlessly, a small laugh escaping you despite the intensity of the moment.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your temple. "I don't care where we are, as long as it's with you."

You felt your resolve dissolve completely at his words. You tugged him closer, your fingers slipping under the collar of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. The sound of the party outside seemed distant now, like you were in your own little world where nothing else mattered.

As the make-out grew more passionate, he lifted you, sitting you on the edge of the sink. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and you could feel the strength of his hold on you, grounding you even as the moment felt overwhelming.

"I love you," he whispered again, his voice a mix of need and reverence.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice breaking slightly as you pulled him closer.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything else faded away. There was no distance, no uncertainty-just the two of you, finding each other all over again in a moment that felt both fragile and infinite.

He pressed his hips into yours, and you could feel his length growing against you with every kiss and touch. His hand played with the hem of your skirt before he lifted it.

His lips traveled down your neck as he rubbed his thumb over your clothed heat. You pressed your hips forward, into his touch. You craved it.

His other hand pulled your straps down your shoulders, exposing your chest, your shirt now sitting around your waist.

“God, how I’ve missed every part of your perfect little body.” He whispered in a low tone.

He pulled your panties aside, and rubbed circles into your clit. You let out a soft moan as your head fell back onto the mirror.

You were now onto your third orgasm, bent over the sink as he pounded into you hard. His one hand was in your hair, forcing you to look at him in the mirror, the other had a tight grip on you hip.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, his head falling back. He could feel you tighten around him as you neared your orgasm. He was close too.

Your breathing was heavy and the pleasure was overwhelming. You let out a stiffled moan as you felt a knot in your stomach, threatening to explode.

[j-eryewrites]

Look for the Light

The final part of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous

Word Count: ~9.8k

Author's Note: Agh, I'm honestly crying. It's all too bittersweet. I started this fic over a year ago, and now it's over. I'm happy with how it ended and I'm glad you were all there along for the ride. Thank you for all your support for "A Sinner's Redemption". I hope you all enjoy the conclusion to Ellie, Joel, and Piper's story.

- With much love, the author.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, spoilers for the last episode and game, Joel goes full momma bear, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, mental health, explicit language, major angst and hurt (with comfort), deceit and lies, gun violence, mentions of gore, description of gore, Joel kills a whole bunch of people, mentions of surgery and medical procedures, mentions of infected, descriptions of child birth, mentions of trauma and coping mechanisms, mentions of injuries and scars (let me know if I missed anything)

Look for the Light (the Final Chapter)

Piper seemed to hit every low branch as she was dragged along. The warm hand holding hers was sweaty. Her mother’s long fingers tightened its hold.

“Ow, mommy,” Piper whined. She looked up at her mom, who quickly apologized, fighting off a painful groan.

“Baby, let’s keep going. Come on.” Anna, the girl’s mom, tugged her child along. A distant howl made her blood run cold. Everything was going wrong. Contractions constricted her body’s muscles. A runner was after them.  She’d been running for who knows how long with Piper in tow. Despite the overwhelming surge of fear, Anna knew one thing. She had to keep her sweet girl safe. Both of them, now that the other one was fighting to come out into the world. 

“Mommy, I-“

Anna pulled Piper along. “I know, sweet girl. I know. Once we get to the house, we’ll be safe. I promise.” 

Heavy huffs of breath fall from Anna’s mouth. The pains were getting worse. She couldn’t keep the sound in—the sound the monster used to track them. 

“Fuck,” Anna cried, using her free hand to clutch her round stomach. 

“Mommy?” Piper peered up at Anna with worried eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Anna softly smiled down at her daughter. “Mommy’s okay, Pipes. Mommy’s okay.” She knew Piper didn’t believe her. Three-year-olds were brilliant, especially when it came to their mothers. 

“Look, Pipes.” Anna pointed to the tall gray house up ahead. “We’re here.”

Anna hastily waddled her and Piper along into the house. The door swung open. “It’s me!” Anna announced. No one answered. Frantically, she looked around. “Anyone?!”

“Mommy?” 

“Not now, sweetie.” A screech pierced the air. “Shit!” Anna cursed, pulling Piper up the stairs and into the farthest room. “In here, sweetie.” 

Letting go of her daughter’s hand, Anna closed the door, locked it, and dragged a chair to barricade the room. 

“Mommy?” Piper whispered. Her tiny finger pointed to the puddle of water underneath Anna’s legs. 

“Oh…” Anna grasped her stomach. “Sweetie,” Anna winced. “Help mommy sit down.” 

Piper ran to her mom’s side, reaching for her hand. With a thump, Anna collapsed against the floor. Gently, she wiped some of the grime off of Piper’s face. 

“I love you; you know that, right?” Anna asked. Piper nodded.

Suddenly, glass broke. It came from downstairs. Anna bit her lip to stifle her groan. “Baby, go hide in-,” Anna howled in pain. “Go hide.”

The chair against the door thumped. Growls seeped through the cracks. It found them. 

“Piper! Go-“

The door flung open. The infected charged into the room. Its sights were set on Anna’s little girl. Except it didn’t attack Piper. With a swing, the girl was tossed to the side. The infected’s actual target was revealed as it lunged at Anna. 

Piper screamed, and Anna fought. With a switchblade, she swiped at the monster, fighting it off as her body fought to push a baby out. The creature gnashed its teeth, searching for something to bite. The rotten bones found home in Anna’s thigh. She cried out in pain, bringing down the blade into the Infected. She grunted with each slice of her weapon until it dropped dead. 

A new cry filled the air. It was the baby. 

“Oh…oh…” Anna cooed, lifting her baby. She was tiny. Her frail arms flailed in the air. Her dark eyes crinkled open. 

“Mommy?” Piper’s voice called to her mom.

Anna glanced up. “Piper, come meet your sister.” 

Piper tip-toed over to her mom and new baby sister. 

“Hi…hey…” Anna cooed. She turned the baby over to Piper. The young girl brought her face as close as possible to her new sister. 

“She looks funny,” Piper muttered. 

The baby started to cry again. Anna held her close. “Did I make her cry?” Piper sniffled. Anna shook her head and chuckled. 

“No, sweet girl. Babies just cry.” Then Anna turned to the baby.  “Yeah, you tell ’em. You fuckin’ tell ’em, Ellie.”

“Hi Ellie…” Piper whispered. Baby Ellie grew quiet. Her bright, wide eyes looked over at her mom and sister. “I’m your big sister.”

“Do you want to hold her, Pipes?” Piper nodded. With her tiny arms, Piper held Ellie close. 

“Hold her head like this, and-“ Anna adjusted Piper’s arms. “Just like that.” Anna sank deeper into the wall. Her eyes watched over her daughters, the view growing blurry. 

“Yeah, it’s okay…” Anna whispered to herself. The pain in the thigh crawled its way around her body. She could feel the infection spread. 

“Piper,” Anna said. “Can you take your sister and sit in the corner over there?” Piper looked confused but did as her mother said. 

Anna bit back a growl. “Fuck,” she quietly cursed. She prayed that Marlene and the others would be back soon. She prayed the last thing her daughters would see was their mother become a monster. 

“It’s okay.” 

When Anna opened her eyes next, crickets began to chirp outside. Silently, she scolded herself for closing her eyes. Beside her, Piper sat, curled up around her baby sister, the two of them fast asleep. Anna lovingly smiled even if Piper had left the corner. 

Taking a hand, she began to run her fingers through Piper’s hair. Her voice croaked but quickly smoothed out as she sang to her baby girls. 

♪ Hold me ♪

♪ Close to your heart ♪

♪ Touch me ♪

♪ Give all your love to me. ♪

“Anna?” Marlene’s voice called out. Anna sat up straighter as the door to the room creaked open. Bright white lights momentarily blinded her. 

“Oh god,” Marlene cursed, noticing the bite on Anna’s thigh. 

With a calm voice, Anna looked up at her friend. “It’s not your fault.”

“We were delayed getting out of the zone. I’m so-“

“They’re hungry,” Anna said, looking down at her girls. “The baby needs to be fed, and I…I didn’t wanna nurse her.” Marlene furrowed her brows in skepticism. “I cut it before I was bit, and it never got to Piper. Marlene,” Anna begged.”Before.”

Sighing, Marlene lowered her gun and approached Anna. Her hands gently reached for the baby in Piper’s arms. Unconsciously, the young girl’s grip tightened around her sister. 

“Sweet girl,” Anna whispered, rubbing her finger gently up and down her daughter’s nose. “Piper, I need you to wake up.”  Piper stirred and snuggled deeper into her mother’s side. “Baby, please.” Piper awoke. Bringing her hands to the sides of Piper’s face, Anna smiled. Her eyes fought back tears. “There’s my sweet girl.”

“Mommy?” Piper said groggily. 

“Yeah, it’s mommy. I need you to promise me something, Piper. Can you do that for mommy?” Piper nodded. “Can you promise to watch over your sister?” Again, Piper nodded, wiping the sleep away. “I need you to be a big girl and a big sister.” Tears began to flow out of Anna’s eyes. “I need you to promise me you’ll always be with her. Piper and Ellie forever. Okay?” 

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Piper’s hand reached up to her mom’s face. Her tiny fingers wiped away tears. Anna struggled to peel off her daughter’s hands. 

“Piper, remember Aunty Marlene? She’s gonna take you and Ellie to a new home.”

“Where are you gonna go, mommy?” Piper asked, and Anna wanted to break in two. 

“I want you to…” Anna’s voice trembled as she looked at Marlene. “…take them with you to Boston… find someone to bring them up, and make sure that they’re safe.” 

“I can’t do that,” Marlene breathed, but Anna ignored her.

“And I want you to give her this.” Anna handed over a small switchblade. 

“Anna.”

“Her name is Ellie,” Anna explained. 

“I can’t,” Marlene sternly said.

“How long have we known each other?” Anna asked. Her eyes held strength even as her mind fought the monster crawling within. 

“Our whole lives,” Marlene answered.

“So you pick her up right now…take Piper, and then you kill me.”

“I can’t kill you.”

“Please, please, please.” Anna cried as Marlene stepped away with her daughters in tow. “Please!”

“Mommy?!” Piper began to cry, seeing her mother so distressed. 

Anna groaned as a growl grew from her chest. It was coming—the monster. 

“Marlene!” Anna screamed. Tears poured freely from her face. 

“Mommy!” Piper flailed around as Marlene drew her back from her mom. “Mommy!!”

Suddenly, Marlene’s hand withdrew and was replaced by another. 

“Here,” Marlene instructed the Firefly. “Hold her head… There you go.” Ellie cooed in the man’s arms. “Cover her ears.” Then she crouched down to Piper. “Cover your ears for me, Piper.” 

Piper shook her head. Her only thought was her mother. “Mommy!” She cried. Anna’s sobs followed the sound. 

Marlene clenched her jaw and stood up. The gun felt heavy in her hand as she marched back into the room. She had to make it quick. Anna nodded and closed her eyes. Thoughts of her daughters flashed before her as the bullet tore through her skull. 

Piper’s ears rang. Ellie cried, and her sister screamed. Piper didn’t stop screaming for her mother until sleep overcame her petite body. Even when she woke up, she still cried for Anna. But she’d never come. Instead, Piper clung to her baby sister. Although memories faded with time, one thing remained clear. Piper promised. It was her and Ellie. Sisters forever. 

꧁_____________꧂

A smile beamed from Joel’s face at his surprise find. Pulling himself away from the car, he called out to his girls. There was no response. He sighed. 

“Ellie! Piper!”

No reaction. Joel walked closer to the truck the girls sat on. Their eyes glazed over, stuck in their own heads. 

“Girls!” 

Piper blinked, her ears ringing as Joel’s voice called out to her. With a gentle nudge of her elbow, she pulled Ellie out of her trance. 

“D’ya hear me?” Joel asked the girls. 

“No…,” Ellie shook her head. “What?”

“Well,” Joel began, “found this in there. Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.” He proudly grinned at them. 

“Oh, cool,” they muttered at the same time. Their postures shrank back down. 

“And have you ever played this?” Joel blurted, regaining the girl’s attention. “Boggle? It’s a word game.”

The girls shook their heads. 

“Well, if you wanna beat me at somethin’, it would be this.” Ellie’s ears perked up at Joel’s words, but she didn’t speak. Neither of them did. 

With each moment of silence, Joel felt his heart tear in smaller and smaller pieces. “Well, all right then. We’re gettin’ close.” He strolled over to the girls, packing away his finds. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed. 

“Hospital that way.” Joel pointed over their shoulders. “May be the one we’re lookin’ for.”

“Got it,” Ellie muttered, hopping off the back of the truck. 

Slowly, Piper placed her feet on the ground. Her hands clutched tightly to the metal of the vehicle. Joel’s eyes flashed with pity, looking at the teen. 

Scars had littered her body. The biggest one was found on her face like a crevice carved by tears from her now pale eye. She couldn’t see out of it anymore. A consequence Joel blamed himself for. Joel had done his best to help her heal, but it was never enough to stave off the bouts of pain that would arise from time to time. He knew even more scars were hiding deeper under her skin—for both of them.

“Take this for me?” Joel asked Piper, holding up his gun. She held it as Joel slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks.” Piper nodded, brushing her hair behind her ears. 

It had grown out since they’d left Jackson. Her dark curls were tucked beneath her chin. The length helped hide some of the more minor scars that lined her face. 

“They had a guitar in that RV,” Joel announced as they passed an abandoned RV on the highway. The girls nodded with false amusement. “It was all smashed up but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever.” Joel turned to look behind him at Ellie and Piper. “In fact, I was thinkin’ maybe I could teach you two. I bet you guys be great at it. Maybe make our own little band.” A slight chuckle left Joel’s mouth as he thought about a band of the three of them plucking away at guitars. “Do you two wanna learn how to play guitar?”

Piper shrugged before tripping over some rubble. Thankfully, she caught herself before falling to the ground. 

“Ellie?” Joel muttered. 

“Hm?” Ellie’s brain quickly recovered. “Oh, yeah. That’d be great. A little guitar band.”

Joel smiled at his girls. His grin was big enough for the three of them when neither of his girls felt like smiling. 

The birds chirped louder and louder as they entered Salt Lake City. Even in late spring, the city emitted a ghastly heat. 

“Okay, so this is what I’m thinking…” Joel began, wiping sweat from his forehead.  

“Cut through that building to get around that stuff, find the skyscraper, go up and look around,” Ellie vacantly finished.

Joel’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly collected himself. “Uhh, actually, this time, I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble.” The girls looked up at him with expressions of pure confusion. “I found some dynamite in that RV back there,” Joel said, fighting off a telling smile. 

“Really?” The girls cocked their brows. 

“No,” Joel teased. The smile exploded on his face. “So we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper, go up and look around. But I had you goin’, didn’t I?”

Piper rolled her eyes and bit back a smile. Ellie scoffed and continued on walking. 

“Look at this place,” Joel muttered, peeking around the abandoned construction site. “Talk about bad luck.” Ellie sent him a questioning look, and Joel answered. “Military drops bombs… not one of them hits the building you’re trying to demolish.” 

“No way up,” Piper mumbled. Joel peered around, discovering she was right. Spotting the edges of a ladder above, Joel turned to the girls. 

“I get you two up there. You guys can drop that ladder down; maybe we go through that way,” Joel proposed. “Come on. I’ll give you a boost.” 

Piper stepped up. Her hand clutched onto Joel’s shoulder as he hoisted her up. He could feel her legs shaking in hesitation as she reached for the edge. Suddenly, her legs buckled beneath her. 

“You okay?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just my leg.” Piper’s hand rubbed the area where she got shot. “Get Ellie to do it.”

“Alright.” Joel nodded. “Ellie?” The girl didn’t answer him. “Ellie?”

“Els!” Piper yelled. 

“What?” Ellie said, whirling around. Her attention had been taken away from the flapping construction sheet. 

“You alright?” Joel questioned. “It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today, so.”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Ellie apologized.

“No, it’s fine,” Joel reassured her. “Did you hear what I…”

“Yeah, boost. Got it.” 

Marching over to Joel, Ellie copied Piper’s earlier motions.

“One… two, up.” Ellie stood up tall and reached for the edge. A grunt escaped her mouth as she pulled herself up. The ladder clattered as Ellie slid it down to Joel. 

“Ya got it?” Ellie asked. 

“Yeah,” Joel huffed, trying to latch onto the ladder. Suddenly, the ladder dropped. The metal clambered to the floor. Joel narrowly dodged the object. 

“God damn it, Ellie!” Joel cursed and picked up the ladder. “Shit.”

“You stay there!” He instructed Ellie. 

She didn’t listen. Joel heard her voice echo off the walls of the building as she moved away from the ledge. “You gotta see this!” She exclaimed with excitement. 

“Ellie?!” Joel yelled. Climbing up the ladder. Upon reaching the top, he helped Piper come to her feet before they ran after Ellie. 

“Up here!” Ellie announced. 

“Ellie!” Joel reprimanded. 

“C’mon!” He could practically hear the young girl jumping up and down with joy. “C’mon, slow pokes.”

“Just wait. God damn it,” Joel grumbled. His knees ached as he trekked up the stairs and after Ellie. When he got to the top, his breath stilled. 

His feet didn’t move. He stood there watching Ellie admire a giraffe. Piper stopped beside him, catching her breath before she approached her sister and the animal. Joe wanted to freeze time as the girls stared in awe at the peaceful creature. But time didn’t work like that. 

Slowly, Joel stepped forward. 

“Don’t scare it,” Ellie whispered. 

“I won’t.”

His hands deftly snapped some leaves off the tree the animal was munching on. He passed the leaves to his girls. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked, taking the leaves.

“It’s all right.” Then Joel stuck out his hand, feeding the giraffe. He raised his brows and motioned for the girls to do the same. “Come here, hurry up. Come on.”

Ellie was the first to step up. Hesitantly, she stuck out her hand as far away as she could from her body. The giraffe sniffed the leaves before opening its mouth to munch on them. Its dark tongue licked around Ellie’s hand. Giggles erupted from the girl’s mouth.

“Ellie, give me a try,” Piper interjected, sticking her hand of leaves to the creature. The giraffe moved from Ellie’s hand to Piper’s and began to feast. Disgust and amusement contorted on the teen’s face. 

“God, it’s wet and it tickles.” Piper felt a shiver go down her spine. Ellie laughed and teased her sister. 

Scratch what he thought earlier. If Joel could freeze time, he’d do it now. His girls were happy. God, he hadn’t heard them laugh in so long. It was better than any music he’d ever heard in his life. 

“So fucking cool,” Ellie muttered at the giraffe. Before the girls knew it, their hands were empty of leaves, and the giraffe had pulled back. Its lanky legs were taking it away. 

“Aw, where’s she going?” Ellie hopped back before entering a sprint, determined to follow the giraffe. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!”

Piper skipped after her, eager to spend longer with the animal. 

“Okay,” Joel chuckled, chasing after his girls.

When he finally reached them, Joel couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of deja vu. There, Ellie and Piper stood, gazing out across a city. The sunlight reflected off the shattered windows of the skyline. Nature overcame the city. Vines and trees ensnared everything in sight.

“So… is it everything ya hoped for?” Joel repeated himself. 

Ellie grinned. “It’s got its ups and downs… but you can’t deny that view.” 

Joel laughed and then joined them. The view was lovely. His eyes scanned the scene and froze on what appeared to be a hospital. 

“Look,” he turned to Ellie and Piper. “I don’t know exactly where this hospital is…”

“Yeah, we’ll find it.” Ellie didn’t remove her gaze from the view. 

“Sure. It’s just…” Joel trailed off, thinking of his following words. “Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far, there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.” 

“We’re still here, though.” Ellie was facing him now. 

“I know. I’m only saying there’s risk.” Taking a deep breath, Joel made sure he had both girls' full attention. “We don’t have to do this. I just… I want you to know that.” 

Piper froze. All of a sudden, she felt like she was on fire. Did she want to do this? She knew what awaited her and Ellie. Sick boiled in her stomach, and Piper wished she hadn’t eaten anything that day. 

“What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?” Ellie questioned. 

“Nothin’. We just go back to Tommy’s.” Piper could tell it was all he wanted to do by the way Joel spoke. “We forget about the whole damn thing.”

Ellie shook her head. “After all we’ve been through… everything I’ve done… it can’t be for nothing.”

With Ellie’s confirmation, Piper knew her answer. She could see the hope in Ellie’s eyes. Those eyes had been so void of anything since their entrapment with David. Piper had already failed Ellie once. She knew she couldn’t do it again. How would she live with herself if she let her sister mindlessly walk alone into death's hands? 

“I know you mean well,” Joel began. 

Standing straighter, Ellie interrupted. “I know you wanna protect me. You have. And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want. Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon.” Joel laughed. 

Inside, Piper cried. Her dream flashed in her mind. She returned to it every night and almost stayed in her dream that day.  God, Piper wanted more than anything to have her dream come true. But Piper had made a promise. It was her and Ellie until the end, and if Ellie wanted to march right into death's arms, so would she. After all, maybe then Piper could do something good. Maybe in her death, she’d finally be able to do what she always wished- then perhaps she’d be able to save someone instead of killing. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere you go,” Ellie continued. “ But there’s no halfway with this. We finish what we started.” 

꧁_____________꧂

Joel’s plan was a plan. That was all Piper could say. After they’d found a way around all the rubble, Joel decided they would just walk around. They’d stumble upon the hospital eventually. However, Piper saw through Joel’s confusion. It was hard to comment on anything over her pain. 

The worst of it came from her leg. Getting shot wasn’t fun. It's definitely an experience Piper wouldn’t recommend. Next came the pain in her eye. About a day or two after they escaped from the cannibalistic cult, she started to lose vision until she became completely blind. 

It was tricky navigating the world with a crippled leg and a narrower peripheral vision. Some days, it was too hard. Phantom pain from her other injuries nabbed at her, cutting deep into her mind. She was weak. Piper couldn’t even walk a few miles without her leg giving out. Most of their travels to Salt Lake consisted of Piper using Joel as a crutch. Eventually, Joel assembled one for her, but she refused to use it. She just couldn’t. Not when she knew how strong she could be. If anything, Piper would just suffer through the pain. After all, it’s what she deserved for failing her sister. Piper deserved it all. 

“Was this a FEDRA thing?” Ellie’s voice cut through the torment circling Piper’s mind. 

Joel shook his head as they entered the abandoned encampment. “No. Army,” he corrected. “They put these places up all around the first few days after the outbreak. Emergency medical camps. Obviously, it didn't last. They had me in one just like this.”

Looking back, Joel noticed Piper lagging. Her face clenched as her hand grazed over her leg. Nodding to Ellie, he led them to a makeshift bench. The tension in Piper’s face eased.

“Were you there with Sarah?” Ellie asked, resuming their previous conversation.

“No,” Joel’s face dropped as he looked at his hands. “She was gone already.”

“Oh,” uttered Ellie. 

“So what did happened?” Piper piped up to distract from the lingering pain in her thigh. 

“It was for this.” Joel pointed to the scar on the side of his head. 

Ellie’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, the guy who shot and missed. I figured that would’ve happened later.”

“No. Second day,” Joel explained.

“Well, I’ve gotta hand it to the Army people,” Ellie sighed. “They were way better at stitchin’ you up than Piper was.” She peered at her sister, hoping her teasing comment would help distract Piper. It didn’t. 

“It was me,” Joel admitted. “I was the guy who shot and missed.”

Piper gulped. “Oh…” She breathed. All thoughts of her pain were replaced with concern for Joel. 

“There’s no story.” Joel began. He hated telling this story. He was at his lowest. His weakest. He had lost everything. “Sarah died… and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scared either. I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. When I… When I… went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched. Still don’t know why.” 

Piper fiddled with her fingers, tracing the scars along her palms. She’d been there. Piper would have done it, and she wouldn’t have missed. In her mind, she saw the mall, the infected, and Ellie and Riley. Unconsciously, Piper trailed up to the scar of her bite mark. The mark was a perfect match to her teeth. She could still hear Riley and Ellie’s begs–asking her to kill them. 

“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this…” Joel trailed off, looking at Piper’s, whose knuckles had turned white. 

“I know why you’re tellin’ me all this,” Ellie interjected. 

Joel turned to her. “Yeah, I reckon you do,” he smiled. 

“So time heals all wounds, I guess.” Ellie jokingly rolled her eyes at the cliche. 

“It’ll be fucking years then…” Piper mumbled, making Joel’s heart shatter. 

“It wasn’t time that did it.” It was said so softly, but even through their trauma-induced daze, the girls heard it. 

“Oh…” Piper softly said. A faint smile ghosted her lips. 

“Well, I’m glad that… that didn’t work out,” Ellie muttered. 

“Me, too,” Joel admitted. 

Suddenly, he felt a gentle weight on his side. Joel’s eyes trailed over to Piper, who leaned against him. She avoided his gaze, but the gentle pressure said more than anything she could muster. Like a domino effect, he felt Ellie rest her head on the other side. There, they sat in silence, embracing each other’s comfort. 

Just as fast as their moment started, it ended. 

“We should probably get going,” Joel sighed, pushing himself up. 

“Yeah,” the girl half-heartedly agreed. 

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel announced. 

“What?” Ellie asked.

Joel smirked and peered down at her. “Shitty puns.”

A groan erupted from Piper’s mouth. “God no, Joel, why’d you have to-? “

“Oh-ho-ho.” Ellie chuckled, already flipping through the pages of the book. “People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow.” Joel winced. “Too soon?”

“No, it’s topical.”

Ellie giggled. “Oh, I love this one.”

“Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” She paused, wiggling her brows at Joel and Piper. “Cause they’re meteor.”

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Joel exclaimed.

“Fuck you,” Ellie scoffed. “That was actually good.”

“That’s a… That…,” Joel waved his hands in search of words. “That’s a zero outta 10.”

“All right, all right.” Ellie read a new joke. “What did the green grape say to the purple grape? Breathe, you idiot.”

“That was a three outta 10.”

Ellie shook her head. “Seven, minimum.” 

“Uh-uh.” Ellie disagreed.

“I’m sticking with the three,” Piper added from behind the group. 

“I’ll give it a five,” Joel settled.

“Five outta 10. Five?” Ellie dramatically gasped. 

CLANG!

The trio whirled around. In between Ellie, Joel, and Piper sat a small flash bomb. Joel grabbed onto Ellie’s shoulder, pulling her close. Piper ducked and covered her ears. 

As Piper’s head hit the ground, she couldn’t hear anything. She knew she was calling out for Joel and Ellie. It looked like they were saying her name if she squinted hard enough. Her head hurt, and it felt wet. She groaned and fell to her side. Two foggy figures loomed overhead. And then it was black.

꧁_____________꧂

“Is her head okay?” A faint voice tickled Piper’s senses. 

Someone was touching her. Piper’s hand clasped around the person. Her eyes whirled open, and then she pounced. She fought until the poor woman lay on the ground. The teen could see the terror oozing from the woman, her hands raised. 

“Piper?” A familiar voice commanded. “Piper! Let her go.” Piper tore her gaze off the trembling woman and onto Marlene.

“Marlene?” Realizing she still sat over the woman, Piper pushed herself off. She sent a silent apology, collecting herself. One thing was for sure. Everything hurt, more so than usual. “What happened?” She croaked, rubbing her aching head. Her hand felt sticky. It was covered in a clear ointment mixed with blood. Her blood. 

Marlene dismissed the woman, who quickly left the room. “Patrol didn’t know you were coming. You got the worst of it.” The woman pointed to Piper’s head injury.

“Yeah,” Piper scoffed. “I could tell. Where’s Ellie and Joel?” 

There was a pause before Marlene answered her. “Ellie’s fine. Been asking about you. Joel’s still unconscious.”

Ellie. The Fireflies. If they were here at the hospital, then… “Can I see Ellie?”

“Piper,” Marlene’s gaze grew avoidant. “All you need to know is that she’s safe.”

It was a bullshit answer. An answer Piper wouldn’t take. “Marlene, where’s my sister?” 

Marlene sighed with a look that made Piper fear the answer. “She’s being prepped for surgery…” Piper shuddered, and a gasp left her mouth. She couldn’t look at Marlene. She couldn’t look anywhere. Piper couldn’t do anything as sobs choked their way out. 

“You know.” Marlene stood straighter and marched over to Piper. Her eyes glared down at Piper. “Did Ellie-?”

“No,” Piper sniffled. “I…I couldn’t tell her. Not when I had- can I say goodbye?” Marlene shook her head. “Fuck…” Piper whimpered. Tears stung her skin as they trickled from her eyes down her cheeks. 

“Piper, I’m sorry-” Marlene tried to comfort her. 

“What about Joel?” Piper yelled. She stared up at Marlene. The pools in her eyes reflected the woman’s stern expression. “Can I say goodbye? Please, Marlene. Please.” Marlene didn’t answer her. Piper had to see Joel, she had to–“I’m saving the fucking world, and you won’t let me say goodbye?!”

Marlene took in a deep and steady breath that seemed to last hours. She raised her finger, and in came a Firefly soldier. “Grab her some paper and a pen.” The materials magically appeared. Marlene threw them into Piper’s hands. “Here, you’ll write your goodbye.”

Piper hurriedly placed the papers down and uncapped the pen. “Does Joel know?” She asked. 

“Know what?” Marlene’s voice came out harsher than Piper had ever heard it. 

“That you’re killing us for the cure.”

There was a deafening silence before Marlene answered. “No.”

“Are you gonna tell him?” Piper asked, tearing her attention away from the letter. 

“Just hurry up and write that goodbye,” Marlene hissed. 

Piper didn’t need another warning and scrambled to scribble on the papers. Her hands shook so much that Piper worried her last words would be illegible. She inhaled. She exhaled. She calmed herself, but only as much as could be expected from someone about to die. As she wrote, her vision grew sloppier. It was hard to see even with her blind eye. Still, she pushed through. With a trembling hand, she signed the letter. When Marlene snatched it out of her hands, a strangled sob scrambled out. 

“Promise me he’ll get it,” Piper begged. “Promise me, Marlene.”

Marlene folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket. “Finish bandaging her up and get her prepped,” she instructed her fireflies. Then, turning on her heel, Marlene stepped out the door. 

Behind her, Piper yelled. “Marlene, please! Please promise me. Please!” 

꧁_____________꧂

“Welcome to the Fireflies” was the first thing Joel heard once his consciousness returned. Groggy, he pushed himself up to sit opposite Marlene. 

“Easy.” Marlene gently spoke. “Ya got hit pretty hard. Patrol didn’t know who you were.”

Joel’s eyes scanned the room. Something was missing. Someone. His girls. “Where’s the girls?”

“Ellie wasn’t hurt,” Marlene began. Her answer relieved Joel, but it was not what he needed to hear. “Not even a scratch. Piper got the short end of the stick. My people are fixing her up now. They’re mostly worried about you.”

“Where are they?” He gruffly asked. His eyes stared down into Marlene’s, who remained calm. 

“We lost half our crew crossing the country.” Joel frowned. She didn’t answer him. Why? She refused to answer him. “I had five men whose only job was to protect me. And I still almost got killed. How’d you do it?”

“It was all them,” Joel admitted. “Ellie and Piper fought like hell to get here.”

Marlene shook her head in disbelief. “They would’ve been dead on day one.” Sighing, she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. “You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you.”

“Just take me to them,” Joel pleaded. His voice was soft, and in a tone Marlene had never heard from the man. 

“I can’t.” Joel’s face contorted, and his jaw clenched. “Ellie’s being prepped for surgery. Piper soon after.”

“What surgery?” Joel questioned Marlene so slowly it sounded like a growl. 

“Our doctor…,” Marlene explained, “he thinks that the Cordyceps in the girls have grown with them since birth.”

His teeth started to grind against the others. His tanned knuckles grew paler by the second. “Why is Ellie in surgery?”

“It produces a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps think that she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune. He’s gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messengers… and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it could be a cure, Joel.”

“A cure,” Joel scoffed. Then he froze. 

No. No. No. No. No!

“Cordyceps grow inside the brain,” Joel stated. 

Marlene gulped before confirming Joel’s fears. “It does.”

“Find someone else,” Joel gasped. 

“There is no one else.” Marlene stood up and held out her hand to Joel. In it were wrinkled papers. He could see dark ink seeping through the thin sheets. “Here, this is for you.” 

He snatched them from her hand and flicked them open. His hands gently straightened out any faults caused by Marlene’s mishandling. His breath shuddered, and his body trembled as he began to read. 

To Joel:

I’m not really sure when and if you get this, but God, I hope you do. Marlene wouldn’t let me see you; she said you were out. She wouldn’t let me see Ellie either, and I’d rather get out one goodbye than never have said anything at all. 

When we started this journey, we were just cargo, and you were our carrier. That’s how it was supposed to be. Then you did something I never thought would happen. You made me trust you. You made me feel safe. You made me feel at home, even when it was the last thing I ever wanted to feel. You reminded me how to live and not just survive. 

God…I…there’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. Marlene’s getting impatient. Ellie’s going into surgery, and then I’m next. You came into this thinking we’d walk out, but we won’t. And it’s okay. It’ll be okay, Joel. Maybe now I can save someone. Maybe with me dying, I don’t have to kill anymore. 

I just want you to know that when I go, I’m gonna dream of that farm. I’m gonna dream of Ellie and her puns, you playing guitar and yelling at some stupid sheep. Cause that’s my dream. A home with my family. A home with my sister and my dad. 

Goodbye Joel Dad

- Piper Williams 

With as much care as he could muster, Joel folded the letter and placed it in his breast pocket over his heart. A large tear fell to the floor, and Joel stifled a sob. 

Marlene took Joel’s silence as a cue to speak again. “We didn’t tell Ellie. We didn’t cause her any fear; there won’t be any pain. Piper-she knows.”

Joel’s head started shaking. A physical sign of his rejection. He couldn’t let them do this. He wouldn’t lose his girls. Not when he’d just- “No. No, you take me to them. You take me to Ellie and Piper right now!” He stood up, all anger and fury, and lunged for Marlene. Joel was fast, but her men were faster. With a swift kick of the knee, Joel toppled to the floor. 

“Please...” Joel cried. You don’t understand.” He kneeled in front of Marlene as if to pray. He needed the girls; he loved them. They were his redemption. “Please.” 

“I do. I was there when she was born, Joel.” Marlene glared down at Joel. “I promised her mother that I would save her children. I promised. So I do understand. I’m the only one who understands. I’m sorry. I have no other choice.”

But he did. Joel had a– “I do,” he growled. 

“Walk him out to the highway,” Marlene commanded. “Leave him there with his pack. Give him this.” Joel saw the glimmer of Ellie’s switchblade. His baby girl. “He tries anything… shoot him.”

The Fireflies nodded and nudged Joel off the floor with their guns. Joel scowled as Marlene watched him be escorted away. Each step farther away from the room, from his girls, was agony. In the dimly lit hospital hallway, Joel plotted. He was Joel fucking Miller, and he was going to get his girls back. The lights flickered, and Joel saw it. It was a sign reading “pediatric surgery: 6th floor.” The sixth floor. That’s where his girls would be. 

“I didn’t hear anyone say, “Stop.” One of the Firefly men shoved Joel along. 

“Which way?” Joel mumbled. 

“Down the stairs.” They pushed Joel along. 

As Joel stumbled down the staircase, he found his feet frozen. He refused to move any farther. 

“The fuck are you doin’? Keep walking!”  Joel stayed still. He waited. Marlene had only sent two men to escort him out—a mistake. Marlene should have known it would have taken much more to keep Joel away. “I said keep walk–”

Joel brought the heel of his palm into one of the men’s noses. CRACK! Blood poured out of the broken nose. The firefly tumbled to the floor, clutching his injury. Joel saw his chance and grabbed the gun. He cocked it and fired. The second man died. Shot right in the head. 

“Where is she?!” Joel demanded, holding the gun to the surviving Firefly's head. 

Through all the blood, the man looked up at Joel. “Fuck you.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

BANG! The Firefly fell limp. His radio blared to life. 

“Shots fired. Shots fired!” 

Joel frowned. They’d all be coming for him now, but he didn’t care. He had to save his girls. Marching up the stairs, Joel began his prowl. Expertly, his gun aimed and fired. The soldiers dropped like flies in the path of Joel’s protective fury. 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

The sound of the gun followed Joel wherever he stalked along the halls of the hospital. Some of the people he came across fought. But like a bear in pursuit of protecting its cubs, they didn’t stand a chance. There was no such thing as mercy for Joel when these very people were out to kill his girls. He was swiftly making his way through the hospital–a trail of bodies in tow. 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

And then silence. His breath stilled as the sign for pediatric surgery came into view. He scoured each room for any sign of his girls. But he found none. Still, Joel trekked. A faint light seeped from beneath a pair of doors up ahead. Quiet beeping sounds echoed louder than the shots from before. 

“Do we have enough power?” Someone asked. 

Joel pushed the door open with the butt of his gun. 

“She’s ready,” a nurse said. Her hands hovered over Ellie. 

The young teen’s hair lay long and brushed. All the grim from before had been washed from her body. She looked clean and peaceful as she lay on the surgery table. 

“Unhook her,” Joel uttered. The nurses gasped at the sight of the gun, immediately raising their hands. 

The surgeon, however, seethed with anger. In his hand, he held a scalpel. The blade glinted over Ellie’s scalp. “How did you get in here?” 

Joel carefully watched the blade. “I said unhook her.”

No one except the surgeon made a move. The surgeon surged forward and stood between Ellie and Joel. In his hand, he defensively held the scalpel. “I won’t let you take her.”

BANG!

The surgeon dropped dead. Nurses screamed and cowered. 

“Unhook her!” Joel yelled. “Move!” 

Quickly, the nurses unhooked Ellie. Silently, they prayed to a god, to anyone to have mercy. The beeping monitor went silent. Blood trickled down Ellie’s arm from where the IV was placed. 

“Cover her arm,” Joel commanded. “Fast.”

Within the blink of an eye, one of the nurses had covered the wound. 

“Turn around.” Joel watched as the women quickly turned away. Just as fast, Joel lifted Ellie off of the table. She was cold but breathing. Her head flopped against Joel’s shoulder, and he worried. If Ellie was in this state, what about Piper? He didn’t have the arms and the strength to carry both girls out of the hospital. Joel held Ellie tighter. He’d have to do something he never wanted to do. Joel would have to get Ellie safe and then find Piper. He just prayed she’d be fine until he could rescue her. 

Elevator doors closed in front of Joel. His arms ached from the unconscious weight of Ellie. He sighed, and Ellie snuggled closer to him. Soon, the silver doors slid open. Joel stepped out into the hospital’s parking garage. If the Fireflies had power, then they’d have cars. Working ones. The low rumble of a car engine drew Joel’s attention. He shuffled over to the vehicle.

CLICK!

“You can’t keep her safe forever,” Marlene taunted. Joel turned around. There stood Marlene with a gun. But it wasn’t pointed at Joel. No. It was pointed at Piper. 

“Joel,” Piper sobbed in Marlene’s clutch. Relief flooded her body at the sight of Joel holding Ellie. She was alive. Her sister was alive. 

“Piper…” Joel met her dark eyes. “Let her go.” He demanded. 

Marlene shook her head. “No. I won’t let you take them, Joel.” Her hand pushed the barrel of the gun deeper into Piper’s head. The girl groaned from the pain. 

“Let her go!” Joel yelled. 

“Joel!” Piper gasped. “Take Ellie. Take her and let them have me. Save Ellie. Save her.”

Shaking his head, Joel fought back tears. No, he had made it this far. He was going to save them both. He had to save them. “No, Piper. No. I’m gettin’ you both out of here.”

“No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, they’re gonna grow up, Joel,” Marlene scoffed. “And then you’ll die. They’ll leave. Then what?” Marlene cocked her head. “How long till they’re torn apart by Infected or murdered by raiders?” Piper whimpered under Marlene’s grip. Her grasp tightened around the teen’s neck, making it hard to breathe. “Because they live in a broken world that you could have saved.”

“Maybe,” Joel agreed. “But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you,” Marlene scolded.  “So what would she decide, huh? ‘Cause I think Ellie’d wanna do what’s right. And you know it. It’s not too late. Even now…even after what you’ve done. We can still find a way.”

Joel gazed down at sleeping Ellie and then at Piper. They were his world. Maybe he wouldn’t be saving the world by taking them, but he’d be protecting his. It was selfish. He knew, but Joel deserved to be selfish, and so selfish he chose to be. 

“Piper…” Joel muttered. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Piper whimpered. 

BANG!

The world thrashed around Piper as the tight hold on her loosened. Marlene groaned. Her body was on the floor as blood flooded from her. 

“Joel!” Piper screamed, running to him. Her feet tripped over her hospital gown as she ran. “Joel!” She collapsed at his side, clutching his shoulders. Sobs ransacked her body. Joel leaned his head against hers. It was the best he could offer with his hands full of Ellie. 

“I got you,” Joel whispered. “I’ve got you, sweet girl.” 

A guttural cough cut through their reunion. Joel’s softened face grew dark as his sight landed on Marlene. It was a pitiful scene. The woman’s hands clawed at the floor over to the discarded weapon. A trail of her blood trickled after her. 

“Piper,” Joel calmly said. “Take your sister and put her in the car.” He passed Ellie’s body into Piper’s arms. Momentarily, she buckled under the weight. Regaining herself, Piper limped over to the vehicle. She braced Ellie against the doors before lifting her to lie in the back seat. 

Behind, Joel stalked after Marlene. 

“No, wait.” Marlene raised her hand. “Wait, wait, wait.” Joel peered down at her. “Please,” she begged. Her breaths had become pants as her body pumped more and more blood onto the concrete. “Let me go.”

“You’d just come after them.” Joel cocked his gun and aimed. “You’d come after my girls.”

꧁_____________꧂

They had left the city far behind. Now, the tall buildings were specks of dust in the wind. Piper sat with her head against the passenger window. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. One thing was for sure: Piper didn’t feel numb. After she danced with death in the smoke of the room, she was almost butchered in; Piper found it hard to feel anything but pain. A part of her only wanted to feel pain. It made everything easier: the guilt of failing Ellie, the guilt of leaving Joel in that basement, the guilt of– Piper hissed. Her nails had dug into the skin around the scar on her thigh. Damn, these hospital gowns for being so thin. 

“You okay?” Joel asked, peering over at her. 

Piper removed her hand and shrugged. “I’m…” fine. It was the easiest thing to say. She’d said it before, and Joel didn't push. But was it what she wanted to say? “No.” Joel stayed quiet. She was thankful for it. As long as she continued to look out the window, maybe she could trick herself into thinking she wasn’t telling anyone these dark thoughts–that she wasn’t telling anyone the truth. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay. Ever.” 

Getting into a more comfortable position, Piper continued. “I was twelve when I first…when I first killed someone. I thought I could trust him, that he’d keep me safe, keep us safe.” Joel peeked at Ellie through the rearview mirror. “But his safety came with a price. One I couldn’t pay, so I–”

“Piper,” Joel interjected. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I do, Joel. I need to. Please?” Joel nodded and remained silent. “I killed him, and then FEDRA decided that if I could kill a man in self-defense, I could kill for them. So I did. That’s all I did for five years.” She stifled a sob. “I couldn’t–mess up, get sick, nothing, or else they’d leave Ellie all alone. It was my punishment. Then, one night, we ended up in the clutches of the Fireflies. They kept us chained in a room until you came along. Next thing I knew, Ellie and I were special cargo to be taken across the country.” 

Piper sniffled and then chuckled. “You know when I first met you, I hated you.” She laughed again. “Funny how we ended up here, huh?” Joel gazed over at Piper. Her laughter died down, returning to sniffles. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” Joel replied. 

“When you said,” Piper hesitated, “you weren’t afraid of death, that you welcomed it, what did you–what did it feel like?”

Joel sighed. “It felt…easy. Every day after Sarah’s death was filled with pain. It still hasn’t gone away,” Joel turned to give Piper a comforting smile. “But it has stopped hurting.” 

Piper nodded, taking in Joel’s words. “When I was trapped in that building, knowing I failed Ellie, that I’d failed you-” Joel desperately wanted to tell her she hadn’t failed. She had survived. They all had. “I wanted to give up. It was easy just to lay down and breathe in the smoke till I–” She looked down at her hands. “But, I didn’t…and some part of me still wishes I did. That’s why I didn’t tell you or Ellie. It was easy to keep quiet and march like a lamb to slaughter. I wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I wouldn’t have to feel all this guilt and hate. I wouldn’t have to be a killer. I wouldn’t have to be Piper.” 

A warm hand encased Piper’s shoulder. Joel’s fingers rubbed up and down in a soothing manner. “Even if some part of me wanted the easy way out, the others didn’t. I-” Piper took in a shaky breath. “Thank you, Joel. For saving me. For saving Ellie.”

Joel knew that no simple “you’re welcome” would suffice. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Piper and pulled her to his side. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.” 

Pulling back, Piper wiped tears and snot away from her face. “Joel?” Her quiet voice questioned. 

“Hmm?” He hummed. 

“What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

Joel sighed. His hand holding the wheel tightened. “I don’t know, kid. I don’t know.” 

As if on cue, Ellie groaned. Her body shifted on the back seat. Piper grew quiet and leaned back up against the window. 

“What?” Ellie mumbled. 

“It’s all right,” Joel cooed. “You’re with me.” Ellie pushed herself up but immediately toppled back down. “Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“I was with the Fireflies, and then…,” Ellie groggily furrowed her brows. “What drugs?”

“They were runnin’ some tests on you…” Joel trailed off, finding his next words. “And some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you… people that are immune. Dozens of ’em. And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually…They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.” Joel heard Piper hold her breath at the lie. 

“Where are my clothes?” Ellie wondered in her dazed state. 

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there. We’ll find you some new ones on the way.”

Ellie laid her head back down, snuggling into the seat. “Were people hurt?”

“Yes,” Joel solemnly said. 

“Is Marlene okay?”

Joel gulped. “I’m takin’ us home.” Ellie half-presently nodded before dozing off again.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the young teen. 

After Piper was sure her sister was out, she turned to Joel. “Joel?” She asked. 

“You should get some rest,” Joel brushed off her inquiry. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Piper scoffed and shook her head. “I’m not tired.”

A knowing smile crept onto Joel’s face. “That’s what they all say, kid.” Piper wasn’t having it. Sighing, Joel compromised. “Just rest your eyes. It’ll be a long drive.”

“Okay…” Piper reluctantly agreed. She sniffled one last time before closing her eyes. The constant rumbling of the car’s tires rolling against the road beneath lulled her to sleep. Her breath slowed, matching the cadence of her younger sister's slow inhales. All the while, Joel drove. Strangely enough, he found himself feeling content. His girls were safe, and they were going home. Home. 

꧁_____________꧂

“Well,” Joel’s hands slapped against his thighs as the car hood shut. Steam angrily fled into the air. “She got us close enough. We gotta walk the rest of the way.” He trotted to where the girls sat and leaned against the car's frame. “Probably about a five-hour hike… but we can manage that. Remember?”

“Yeah.” Ellie nodded. 

Piper finished rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. Joel had found both her and Ellie new clothes. The hospital gowns weren’t the chosen attire for an apocalyptic world. “Yeah,” Piper chimed. 

Joel flashed them a smile, and then they went off. Piper found herself welcoming their journey. She hated to admit that she missed trekking through nature. While driving in a car was nice, easy, and fast, it wasn’t what she was used to. Besides, Piper preferred feeling the ground beneath her own two feet. 

“You know,” Joel huffed. The hike was getting to him. “Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time. I wouldn’t say it was her favorite thing. She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber… or scampering. That’s probably the right word. That girl… she’d see a big rock and just… pew.” He chuckled as a memory of his daughter appeared in his mind. 

Piper nodded her head and playfully nudged Ellie. “Sounds like someone I know.” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Sounds more like you–” Ellie countered. 

“Well, you were the one who climbed up a tree and couldn’t climb down.”

“That was–”

Joel snickered at their bickering. “She woulda liked you two.” Piper and Ellie stopped arguing. “Not to say the three of you are the same.” Joel smiled as if he knew some inside joke the girls didn’t. “Definitely different kids.”

“How so?” Ellie wondered, stepping up beside Joel. Piper stood on Joel’s opposite side. Their attention was drawn to Joel. 

“Well,” He began, “she was a lot more… I wanna say girly, and I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly.”

“I’m not,” Ellie smirked. “If anything, Piper’s more girly than me.”

Piper wasn’t sure if she should take it as a compliment or an insult. However, responding to an insult was preferably much more fun. “Hey!” She feigned offence. 

“Yeah, you’re not,” Joel agreed with Ellie. “She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not sayin’ that you two don’t.” Ellie smiled broadly at Piper and winked. Piper rolled her eyes but smiled back. Joel laughed. “But you know why I think she’d like you, Ellie?”

Ellie’s smile fell. “Why?”

“Cause you’re funny,” Joel stated. “I think you would’ve made her laugh. Anyway, I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

“Yeah, bet I would’ve,” Ellie muttered. 

“And for Piper,” Joel said, not forgetting the other girl. “Sarah would love to try and make you laugh. And she’d look up to you.”

Piper paused, and a soft smile appeared on her face. “Thanks, Joel. Sarah sounds nice.”

“She was.” Joel concurred. Briefly, he looked down at the cracked watch adorning his wrist. Once he glanced up, he beamed. Ahead stood the faint outline of Jackson. Home. “Not much further now.”

Joel and Piper eagerly continued down the path. Ellie did not. 

“Hey, wait.” Joel and Piper whirled around. Ellie’s eyes widened as if she didn’t expect them to respond. “Fuck,” she softly cursed. “Back in Kansas City, you asked me about the first time I killed someone.” Joel placed his hands on his hips. His ears listened as Ellie spoke. Meanwhile, Piper grew distantly quiet. 

“When I got bit in the mall, I-It wasn’t just Piper and me.” Ellie looked away. Piper could see the tell Ellie tried to conceal. “My best friend was there, and she got bit, too.” Ellie sniffled. Piper felt her own eyes grow watery. Riley. Sweet Riley. “We didn’t know what to do, and she says, “We can just wait it out… be all poetic and just lose our minds together. And then she did. And I had to…” Piper wanted to draw Ellie into a hug, but she knew her sister had more to say. The comfort could always come later. “Her name was Riley… and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess. And then Sam and Henry.” 

Joel shook his head. “That’s not on you.”

“I know, but…” Ellie tried to argue, but Joel continued. 

“Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope.” Joel peered over at Piper. He wasn’t just saying this to Ellie. It was a message for both of his girls. “You can feel like… like you’ve come to an end… and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’… you find something new to fight for. And maybe that’s not what…”

“Swear to me,” Ellie interjected. “Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.”

Piper looked away. She had never been more interested in her feet. Joel had an expressionless face as he answered her. “I swear.” 

After a moment, Ellie spoke. “Okay.”

She had believed him. Piper let out a shaky breath and looked over at Joel. They shared a glance. Their eyes agreed to the lie. It was a necessary one. A lie that they both now concealed. 

The rest of the journey to Jackson had been uneventful. Tommy had found them close to Jackson when he was on patrol. The reunion was sweet. Joel hugged his brother before breaking away, allowing Tommy to steal hugs from the girls. They hadn’t been expecting it by how brief and tight the hugs had been, but they had been welcomed embraces. 

Maria smiled when they walked back into town. The streets had changed from the snow-covered, Christmas-decorated roads to colorful and lively bustling ones. People discarded their winter gear for lighter clothes. The summer sun and heat crept over the mountains, waiting to pounce. But for now, the air was at a pleasant temperature. As Maria showed them back to the house they had stayed in during their brief stay in Jackson, Piper spotted a familiar head of curls. Charlie. He amicably waved at her. By amicably, Charlie practically jumped where he stood, calling out her name. Piper flushed a deep shade of red and flipped him off. Joel laughed, and Ellie smirked. Her clever eyes darted between the two teens. She had something to tease her sister about. 

The sun had begun to set as Joel, Piper, and Ellie settled back into the house. Each crawled out of their rooms after a long nap. Joel was the last to emerge. Age had made his cravings for naps extremely powerful. With a yawn, he pushed open the front door. A wave of deja vu fell over him. 

There sat his girls on the porch. Ellie was teasing Piper about the boy they’d seen on the street. Piper rolled her eyes and denied everything, making it hard for Ellie to continue her interrogation. Instead, the young teen pulled out her pun book. Fingers flipped through the pages, landing on a particular joke. Piper dramatically groaned, and Joel realized he had seen this all before. 

It was the dream. Joel’s dream. Here they were, his girls safe and sound with a whole life ahead of them. Joel felt a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body. He stood and leaned against the door frame for ages, capturing this moment in his head. The girls had been his redemption–a sinner’s redemption. Now that he had his dream, Joel was content with just living it. This was why he missed that day. This was why he stayed. He, too, deserved a second chance. They all did. 

꧁_____________꧂

Thank you all again for your support. If you enjoyed this series please comment and reblog so that more people can embark on this journey with Piper, Ellie and Joel. :)

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[marigold-hills]

June 28: cowboy | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 564

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

“I suppose we could just… apparate back to London,” James says, as they all stand on the train platform. Little first years running around excited for the summer holidays (and were they really that small, when they first started at Hogwarts? It didn’t seem possible).

“Would be quicker,” Peter agrees.

“The trunks would be a bit of a pain though,” their Moony, as always, voice of reason.

“No way,” Sirius, appalled, “it’s our last time. I want to buy my weight in candy and deface the walls of our compartment. Leave a mark: here were the Marauders, first of their name.”

“Poignant, Padfoot.”

“Have to leave a legacy.”

“I thought the Map was our legacy?”

“Can have more than one legacy, Wormy boy.”

“Right you are, Pads. Train it is then.”

“Prongs,” Moony asks as they’re levitating their belongings onto the train, “don’t you have Head Boy stuff to do anyway?”

A shrug, careless: “It’s not like they’ll put me in detention if I skip.”

“You’re incorrigible, Potter,” Lily chimes in from behind them, grabbing James by the arm and dragging him off with her. “Come on, we’ll get over with it quick and then I promise I’ll let you go back to your band of rascals.”

“Oi! That’s not what we’re called.”

“Sure, sure. My mistake. Buccaneers.”

“You’re a terrible woman, Lily Evans. Pads, if the trolly lady comes by before I’m back, get me something would you? Get your Moony to choose though, your taste is weird.”

(Your Moony, he says. Most natural thing.)

“Come on, cowboy,” Regulus chimes in, waiting for Lily and James at the end of the train corridor, eyebrow raised in something too fond to be mocking. Sirius waves at him.

“He’ll be alright, love,” Moony tugs at his hand as the three walk away. “It’s just a year.”

Because his Moony always knows when he’s getting worried, even before it really registers.

It’s a bittersweet thing, to be in the train, in the same seats they occupied when they first met and every year since. Sirius remembers the first time he spoke with James, the instant connection between them. The first time Peter shared food with him, a too-warm ploughman’s sandwich. And Moony, scared out of his wits and trying to hide it behind put upon brashness, as if his big eyes didn’t show the truth.

“We’ll be alright, too,” Sirius responds and Moony smiles like he finally believes it.

“Merlin’s balls, I thought it was bad when you two were pining,” Peter cuts in, “is this what it’s going to be, living with you?”

“Don’t begrudge us our love, Wormy boy,” Sirius dramatically flings himself against Remus’ side.

“Course not, mate. You’ve just become… mushy. Sappy.”

Remus kisses the side of his head, such a natural gesture (like it’s something they’ve done for years, like it wasn’t new), Sirius feels almost silly at the pleased blush he can feel heating up his face.

The trolly comes, and they buy more than is probably necessary. James comes back, hair in a disarray, pleased as a punch, clearly haven’t gotten a snog after the prefects meeting. (“I don’t kiss and tell, gentlemen.”)

Sirius doesn’t deface the walls of the compartment, but he does carve the underside of his seat, where it won’t be spotted and shouldn’t be removed.

All is well.

P + M + P + W

NOTES

And they all lived happily ever after because there were no evil wizards ever.

The last two chapters will be fluffy epilogues.

thank you so much for sticking with this story so far <3 <3

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(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[sareinadale]

In Time, In Another Life

“The mind forgets, but the heart will always remember. And what is the heart's memory but love itself?” ― Twan Eng Tan, The Gift of Rain

*canon divergent, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, romance, soulmates, reincarnation, bittersweet ending, period romance, original character, character death.

Originally written as Helsa Valentine's Day 2025 Gift Exchange ( @helsa-valentines-day ) for @lozuu.

“can i ask you something crazy?”

“you know i love crazy.”

“promise me that we’ll meet again in another life?” no doubt that he would in a heartbeat for her. but do they exist? what if there’s only one life and that is all there is? what if this is fiction?

“i promise kære, if it takes us hundreds of years.” better to assure her either way, quietly wishing for the universe to listen. “ … god forbid we don’t recognize each other.” she adds, earning a light squeeze from him.

“i hope i get to keep my sideburns to help you recognize me.”

“oh god, you and your sideburns — ” a gentle breeze billowed their way, “ — what if you don’t have them next time?”

“then that’s not me.”

Read more on AO3

—

i had to break it into three chapters and as a standalone mini-series instead of adding this under chronicles of helsa cause i obviously went above 2k words when i finished the first chapter lol.

also, here's an accompanying music to listen to cause this gave me MASSIVE inspo while working on this gift.

as always, if you guys enjoyed this, please drop a kudos, like, and comment! <3