Honestly just be kind and we shouldnât have any issues.
Minors! I love yâall dearly but please please please stay away from my NSFW stuff! Thank you!
Rules for requesting:
Fandoms I write for: I am currently very into Warhammer, however I do still write for DC
I will write smut
I will NOT write anything to do with incest, step-cest, or anything similar to that.
I will NOT write any Yandere content, this includes themes such as: Rape, Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, Stalking, or any other Non-Consensual situation. I WILL write themes such as Dub-con however.
Regarding the previous rule, I personally define any Non-consensual sexual situation as one where a character is actively saying no, fighting, or otherwise showing they have no interest in the current happenings. I define Dub-con as one where the character has not said yes, but they have also not either shown with their body language that they are disinterested, or otherwise said no.
I will NOT write anything to do with reader being pregnant, or being in labor (I will write these themes, so long as they happen to another character).
If you have any questions about these rules, please ask! I promise I wonât mind, I much rather you ask then not!
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Author's Note: Hellooooo homies, it is I once more. Coming at you with shit I said I was writing... let's not contemplate how long ago, okay? It was cookin' this whole time. Just... slow cooking, very very slow cooking. ANYWHO! It's here now, and the muses couldn't have more comedic timing. Wall to wall bastard Corvus recently and here I come with horrible loving angst. Truly what will she do next? XD
Title: At Last
Length: 8,882 words
Relationship: Corvus Corax/Perpetual!Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Gore with a little light body horror on the side
Ten millennia. Ten millennia alone. Ten millennia running from shadows. Where once you felt so at home. The darkness had lost its warmth without him, lost its softness. You couldnât bear to live in it anymore after he disappeared. Your beloved sons had tried to save you from your grief but the Imperium was moving on without you. A relic of days gone by, you knew too much, had seen things no-one was meant to anymore and so you sought to spare your children the pain of protecting you. It broke your heart to leave them. Your husbandâs fractured legion reeling from the disappearance of their father only to be rocked a few mere centuries later by the âdeathâ of their mother.
It was kinder, wasnât it? To think you well and truly lost to them rather than missing like their father? It would be a tragedy surely. To lose a mother is no small pain, even if you were only technically their mother in title. But grief could be overcome, they could leave you behind if they needed to, forgotten to ease their pain. Few if any Ravenguard now probably knew of you, perhaps some tasked with keeping the legionâs history or one of the oldest brothers interred in a Dreadnought. The shadow of the Raven Mother might linger in their history, but the XIXth legion was no stranger to ghosts and tragedy. They would persist, of this you were certain.
A rumble through the ship broke you from your dour musings and people around you murmured as bulkheads creaked and groaned. Something was wrong. Youâd stowed away on this merchant ship weeks ago, not really caring where exactly it was headed. It was mid warp-jump so the odd unsettling noise and complaint from the ancient metal were to be expected but something just felt⌠off. A father hushed a crying child, an elder couple huddled closer, all painted in the harsh red light of the lower decks. The ship quieted down and everyone heaved a sigh of relief while you only grew more tense. You knew better. You could feel the air shift and crackle like the sky before a lightning strike. Something was wrong. Very very wrong.
Youâd scarcely gotten to your feet when the ship screamed and pitched to the side, flinging you and everyone else against the crates and walls of the cargo hold.
Everything exploded into motion at once, shrieks of terror, people frantically clawing at the doors and trampling each other trying to escape. To where? Where on this ship could be safe? Nowhere. This was pure animal instinct to survive overriding the one logical conclusion, you were all doomed. Something in the warp had found you. Something hungry for the souls in this shipâs belly, and it had taken its first exploratory bite. It felt the armor of the vessel buckle and crack, revealing the teeming, succulent, masses inside. The Gellar field would go down any second now.
You sighed and stepped back, away from the doors, away from the clamoring people, back into the shadows. Like a little sliver of home that tasted like ash in your mouth. They would all die. You would be alone again. Alone as always. The scabbard of the dagger your husband had gifted you felt like ice under your jacket. One of the few things you hadnât been able to stomach parting with when you âdiedâ, the only others being your wedding ring and the pendant it now hung next to on a silver chain. A ravenâs skull. Yet another gift, a companion who could keep your heart lighter while he was away. Sweet, mischievous, Dusk, your lovely little bird. Heâd lived far longer than a normal raven but he couldnât last an eternity, not like you would. Not that you knew it at the time. So you carried him with you now, as close to your heart as you could put him.
Brushing your thumb across the smooth bone and cold metal hanging from your necklace had become something of a soothing action. As if touching the mementos would summon the feelings of what they represented. It quieted the wailing people in your ears, the shrieking terrified voices of people who knew today was the day they were going to die but like any human were unable to accept it. Most of them would be driven mad the instant the Gellar field was shorn to pieces by whatever was outside. They would turn on their loved ones. The lifeless, broken, shell of their family or friend or lover bent to the whims of whatever beast had set its starving eyes upon the vessel.
It felt like it was your fault. Perhaps it was. Perhaps the sweet scent of a Perpetual had called it from the depths to gnaw its way through ceramite and steel. The promise of an agonized soul, rich with centuries of delectable pain, was not easily denied by many chaos creatures.
The screaming reached a volume you could no longer ignore and another deep sigh rattled through you. Sometimes, despite your eternal youth, you felt every second the age you were. It all felt so heavy, so tiresome. Exhausting. A man with eyes bleeding chaos and madness grabbed for you only to have his head cleanly lopped from his shoulders. Gleaming ceramite turned to flashing silver crescents as you parted flesh and bone. It was a tired action youâd done a million times before and you felt centuries of muscle memory pluck at your nerves, a puppeteer beckoning their doll to dance once more.
Exhausting wasnât a strong enough word.
These people were doomed, suffering, screaming out for their God Emperor to save them. Oh sweet children, if only you knew your prayers fell upon deaf ears. Worse than deaf, unwilling. You could hear them though. It rent your heart asunder as it always did to see your people suffer. The hand gripping your dagger tightened. Youâd not see them suffer any more than they already were. Whatever monster had come for you all would be left hungry for all but one of the souls in this hold. You would live on, you would suffer for them so they wouldnât have to.
One by one. Voice by voice. None of them, even in the throes of warp-driven madness, stood a chance against a blade trained by the Raven Lord himself. Ruthless efficiency, swift and silent, carving through flesh and sinew to deliver the 'Emperorâs mercy' unto this doomed little flock. The final one laid across your lap, breath wheezing as you hushed her, slipping the knife through her ribs to finally let her go. Then there was only you, and Dusk, and your Miserecordia covered in blood. The blade dripped, the only sound now amidst the deafening silence. In the dim red of the emergency lights its blade turned to obsidian as blood seeped down the hilt and between your fingers. Something desperate in you clung to the warmth of it, like fingers lacing between your own and drawing soft wandering patterns down the back of your hand. Just like⌠just likeâŚ
You closed the poor womanâs eyes and laid her down amongst the others, then stood to face the door. That time was long gone, the warmth of him, the softness of his touch, was lost to you and it was unfair to put the weight of such grief on someone else. Especially in her final moments.
There werenât many passengers on this ship, the holds were mostly packed with supplies or mercantile goods traveling between systems, which meant whatever had hit the ship wouldnât take long to start scouring the passages for its meal. You pried the door open and stepped into the hallway awash in similar red lighting. Your ears strained to find the direction the breach was in, Chaos beasts were hardly ever quiet. Daemons reveled in the suffering they caused, and while you werenât necessarily an adept psyker, you were certainly more attuned to things than your average. It came in handy at times like this, the split second advantage of feeling the waves of the Immaeterium shift and slide could not be overstated.
But something was just off. Where was the roiling bestial presence, the screams and howling as a toothy maw tore through its victims? You crept through the halls, flitting amidst dark crevices as the lights flickered and warped, shadows shimmered and bent, like something was pulling the ship into itself. Like an ant in a sand trap it drew you in, forward towards uncertainty. But this was the way to the life pods, you didnât have much of a choice. Even if being left in the vacuum of space wouldnât kill you permanently it still did not sound overly pleasant. Freezing and suffocating, blood vessels and organs depressurizing and rupturing only to heal and mend and do it all over again. Endlessly. Endlessly dying and reviving to abject suffering until you ended up floating somewhere habitable, somebody found you, or the pain drove you to madness.
A laspistol shot broke you from the mire of your thoughts and your eyes snapped up to meet a terrified crewman behind a smoking barrel. âDonât come any closer!â His voice shook and cracked under the weight of his fear, but you paid it little mind. He barely had time to bleat in panic before you snatched the gun and pushed him deeper into the room heâd been huddling in.
You clapped a hand over his mouth. âOf all the fool things to waste valuable ammo on, you pick a warning shot at another human?â Whatever meager protest he had died the second he opened his mouth again and tasted the blood on your fingers. âIâm going to move my hand and youâre not going to make any more loud noises, understood? Blink twice for yes.â He blinked twice. âGood lad.â As promised you relinquished your hold on him and stood back, letting him catch his breath. âEveryone below is dead, how fares the crew?â You whispered.
He wiped his mouth furiously before answering, âI donât know, everything happened so quickly I- I just dove into a maintenance hatch when they showed up!â They? âIt was horrible. So horrible! We thought it was just some debris that would bounce off the shield but it tore through the hull and then the door opened and they- Throne of Terra preserve me! Forgive me my cowardice blessed Emperor I just couldnât! I couldnât-â The sailor trailed off, watery sobs choking him and halting his breath. His eyes turned up to meet yours and there was something broken in them, something familiar. So hideously familiar. Where had you seen that look before?
âWhen they spoke to us,â he grabbed your hand heedless of the blood smearing onto his palms, âwhen they spoke it was like nothing Iâd ever heard.â You crouched down to him, clasping his hands as pieces started to fit together. Memories youâd tried so hard to bury coming to the surface, rising from the inky abyss of your past with a tide of dread.
Your voice shook as you whispered. âWhat did they say to you?â
It was like a dagger of ice had slipped into your spine, stolen the air from your lungs. It dug into the very root of your brain, whispering to the deepest animal part of your psyche. Words in a tongue youâd not heard in millennia burrowed into your ears and mind in tandem. The crewman was dead before he even knew youâd shot him. It was better this way. It was kinder this way.
Colchisian was truly a beautiful language. To hear it bent to such a vulgar shape, to hear it come from them, felt an insult to the tongue itself. You stood once again, turning away from the body to confirm your suspicions.
Scriptures hung from them, festooned their armor and any visible skin alongside skulls, engravings, and fabric youâd rather not attempt to identify. Chaos Space Marines. Word Bearers. The one in the front stalked toward you, unhurried and slow. You had nowhere to run and you both knew it. âNow why would you shoot your compatriot, sweet lamb?â Heâd switched to high gothic but the strange dual nature of his voice remained, it was like hearing him twice. Once through your ears and the second time whispered directly into your head. It felt violating. It always had whenever someone brushed against your mind like this, testing and prodding at trained defenses.
Heâd know you were no ordinary human, maybe not necessarily a Perpetual but perhaps an undercover imperial agent. Someone with training. âHe didnât deserve whatever you were going to do to him,â you answered deliberately in low gothic. Maybe you could play this off? Theyâd kill you and be done with it, leaving you adrift on the rotting hulk until you figured a way off of it and back to the Maeterium. If you were lucky.
You could never be that lucky.
His lips twitched into a grin and he shot forward. Time slowed to a crawl. Adrenaline and cortisol dumped into your bloodstream and muscle memory moved your limbs before your brain could even begin to panic. Your body torqued and one, two, three shots of a laspistol rang through the metal hall. To your credit all three shots landed but ceramite armor could stand up to far greater threats than a militarum-issued side arm. The third wouldâve torn into his face but the reflexes of an Astartes far outstrip even the best-trained baseline, heâd twisted mid-stride so it glanced off his gorget. The searing heat just barely missing his twisted visage only stretched his grin wider.
You backpedaled. Trying desperately to keep any distance between you and the traitor but there was only so much room in these cramped holds. The cold, unforgiving, metal of the hull met your back and like any cornered animal you tried to dodge around your predator. It didnât matter that there were two more behind him, that you knew it was pointless, it was human impulse. The need to survive that even ten-thousand years of suffering couldnât erase. You were still human. Even now. Even after everything. Your greatest flaw and fiercest asset. The irrational will to fight to keep breathing that drove your species forward.
The instinct that wrenched your gun arm up when cold ceramite wrapped around your throat and dragged you up to his eye level. The pistol was snatched and shattered against the floor before you could pull the trigger again. You swinging a leg up to try and kick the smug look off his face only served to entertain the bastard more. He caught your ankle in his other hand and tightened his grip âtil you winced feeling the bones grind and start to fracture. âWhat a spirited lamb you are indeed. I didnât think the Corpse Godâs decaying Imperium could produce such fire anymore,â a sick chuckle rattled through his ancient bones, âwhat fun, truly the gods have blessed us this day.â
His smile faded slightly as he continued, the amusement in him being tempered by suspicion. âOr it would be, if one spritely lamb hadnât in fact turned out to be wolf in sheepâs skin.â His grip on your throat loosened a touch. âTell me, why have you killed the otherâs on this level?â You wheezed out a laugh at his clear frustration which earned you an actually broken ankle. Fuck.
Tears burned your eyes at the pain but you forced your voice past the sobs you were swallowing, âIsnât it obvious? To deny you butchers your meat. No souls for your sorcery no breathing bodies for your cult.â His face twisted further. Perfect. If he killed you and washed his hands of the whole situation that would be optimal. Your regeneration wasnât an exact science, but usually the larger the injury the longer it took to heal. Your ankle would be fine by the end of the day, which if he noticed, you were done for. So poking the bear enough to be mauled to death really was your best shot. âIf I have to die last at the hands of Chaos-worshipping scum to save others the same fate then so be it,â keep laying it on thick, âtheyâre with the Emperor now! Embraced in his holy golden li-â a sick, gurgling, choke cut your impromptu rambling short as the Word Bearer slammed you against the wall, growling something you couldnât make out as your ears rang from the impact.
It took a few seconds before your brain finally caught up with what was happening and your eyes focused on your captor. He was smiling again. His off hand dropped your mangled ankle and drew up to your face to drag a claw just under your eye, breaking the waterline to free the unshed tears. âYouâve made a mess of things, but the Gods do nothing without intent. If this was ordained then our meeting has a purpose, sweet girl.â His finger traced the path of the tears before he brought it back to his mouth, licking the pain-laced salt from his finger and shuddering as Slaanesh purred affirmations to his wretched soul.
Purple crept into his irises as he stared down at you, a sigh of euphoria fogging the cold air between your faces before he spoke again. âWhat purpose our meeting shall serve I do not know, but a gift of the Prince ought be savored. Donât you agree?â No you did not, but you also didnât exactly have the wherewithal to respond immediately.
Your hands scrabbled against the traitorâs armored wrist once more, taking a modicum of pressure off your neck. You managed to wheeze, âWhatever depraved plans you and your wretched gods have for me I want no part of them.â A pained and humorless laugh bubbled out of you as you continued, âwhatâs more, Iâd make a terrible cultist. Iâve never been one to obey so mindlessly as you stupid, heathenous, bas-â Once again your venomous diatribe was cut off by a sputtering gag as the Word Bearer cinched his fingers tighter and tighter around your throat.
âNow now,â he simpered, âthereâs no need for such hostility.â The only answer to his empty placation was you scrambling for breath. âClearly, you are a human of some rare mettle. It would be a waste to kill you, but such insolence cannot be tolerated amidst the XVIIth legionâs flock.â He allowed you a single breath before squeezing again, smiling placidly as saliva began to drip from your gaping, gasping, mouth. The leering marine dragged you closer to whisper into your ear. âI will relish your instruction in the ways of the Four, dear lamb,â a mocking kiss was pressed to your forehead, âit will be arduous, but I see in you a rare flower, perhaps the finest bloom Iâll have ever tended.â
Your vision was starting to blacken at the edges, your mind beginning to dull and turn fuzzy. You could get just enough air to stay conscious but not to recover. What a pain, being caught by torturers. With energy flagging your struggles became more languid and sluggish, eyes focused and unfocused as you fought to stay cognizant enough that none of them could slip into your mind. Dimly your ears registered him saying something. âJust let me in, sweet lamb, show me all youâve deemed worth fighting so hard for.â You half-heartedly flung a leg at him again, the pain of your shattered ankle being struck lancing up your body and sharpening your mind again just for a moment. Just long enough. Just enough to repel his probing for a minute longer.
His face soured at your continued resistance. It was admirable, impressive even, but he grew weary of it. His eyes drifted down from your face to the braided cord around your neck. A horned brow rose as he plucked the cord upward to inspect it. A skull and a ring. What manner of bauble was this? He tore the pendants from your neck and your squirming, weak as it was, ceased to stare wide-eyed and acutely focused on the silver ring and weathered skull. That cruel grin twisted his mouth again. âSomething precious to you I take it? A keepsake? A promise perhaps?â His hand let up on your throat to let you gasp again, eager to hear your answer.
Your first attempt was a rasping whisper he could barely discern. âCome now, lamb, I couldnât hear you.â His sneer contorted his face further, showcasing his profanely gifted fangs. âGo on. Speak up.â His other hand dragged your necklace further from you and rage bubbled up in you. Rage like you hadnât felt in millennia.
This vile excuse for an Astartes, this blight upon your species would take something else from you? Your last physical remembrances of two beings you held dear. The last pieces of your husband? The precious, honey-sweet, past that made the bitter pill of now almost worth it. Restraint was thrown to the wind as your hands clawed into his wrist again and you roared.
âGive them back!â
Blood vessels in his eyes and nose burst as you dug psychic fingers into his mind, rending loose any foolishly unprotected places you could find. He dropped you and the pendant, which you snatched as you hit the ground and scrambled away from the staggering marine. He hissed as he tried to collect himself, clawed gauntlets flailing at you as his brothers readied to fire. âYou horrid little bitch!â Coughing up some blood he looked over you and dug his fingers into your hair, dragging you up from the ground to spit directly in your face. âMaybe you ought to go to the pits for a while instead, you might learn some manners!â Red invaded his eyes alongside gleaming violet, shining an unearthly glow onto your face even as blood dripped from his eyes. His fingers tightened in your hair and you winced, âwho knows, I might even let you out early if you scream prettily enough.â
A chill choked the room. The shadows warped and stretched as the emergency lights sputtered, mere candles to be snuffed by a gale. There was a whisper of some sound, like the flutter of wings, and a helmeted head rolled past the lead traitorâs boot. Everything froze. Neither you nor he dared draw breath as some thing entered the door behind you all. It was like the air before a hurricane, heavy, suffocating, looming like an executionerâs blade. A presence that sucked the warmth from your pumping blood. Your own shadow was reaching for you, twisting beneath your skin to drag at your very soul.
Its steps made no sound. That marine hadnât even the time to scream before his head had fallen to the ground, discarded like a broken toy. The body crashed to the floor soon after, but still no other sound came from the creature. Just the drip drip drip of blackened, tainted blood from the gory stump of the traitorâs neck. Just the hammering of your own blood in your ears, the pressure and ringing rising in them as your heart seized and sputtered.
Once again you were dropped as your captor whirled on this interloper and you glimpsed it from behind his legs. It was gargantuan and pitch black. In its claws was the other chaos marine, impaled on talons as long and wicked sharp as sabers. In the red, barely living, light you could just make out its head, stooped and twitching. Inspecting its kill as what little life was left in him dripped between its claws and to the floor. It was avian, this thing, tilting and blinking eyes, so many eyes, as its beak ripped the marineâs silently screaming head from his shoulders and it flicked the corpse from its hand to join the other.
Your blood throbbed in your skull looking at it. Was it a daemon? Some kind of warp beast that had followed the chaos marines here scenting the charnel house feast within? You couldnât know. It was unlike anything youâd ever felt before. Youâd experienced much, Blanks even, the black holes where their souls should be that drained psykers like you. This wasnât that, this wasnât an absence of spirit, it was an overwhelming, unstoppable force. A darkness that seeped from this creature and drowned all who were near it. Primordial. Like staring into an eclipse. Like the midnight that chased animals into their dens. Darkness no light could ever truly pierce.
Shadows that hungered and never relinquished what they ate.
The last marine barely even reached for his bolter before his arm was severed, crashing to the ground as monstrous claws tore through ceramite like paper. It shot forward, slamming him against the wall. His wail of agony mixed with a horrid squelching when the thing grabbed his face, plunging a talon through his tongue and all the way through the underside of his jaw. Another found its place in his eye, pushing into the socket with a slow, gruesome, pop as the marine choked and screamed around the blood flooding down his throat, pouring from his mouth as he writhed. He clawed at it. Tried to rip at the beast with its talons hooked into his skull. The flailing of a prey animal that knew it was already dead.
This beast radiated malice, pure hatred so deep it made your stomach curdle, bile rising up your throat as each wave crashed against your struggling mental defenses. It tensed, a resounding crack coming from the hinge of the traitorâs jaw that suddenly hung askew and spilled forth another tide of crimson down his armor. Flesh tore from the corner of his lips, a macabre, bleeding, mockery of a grin as the beast kept pulling. Anchoring his head in place with the claw through his eye socket. Its head loomed. Its own eyes unblinking, twisting in their sockets to gaze down at its helpless, squirming, prey. The thingâs beak clacked against one of his horns, twisting the profane growth until it split from his skull and sent a trickle of yet more blood down his face to join the rest.
This was different than the other two. It was picking this one apart, painfully, carefully, personally. Seeing the opportunity you started to slowly, quietly, crawl away. There was no love lost between you and any traitors but the sound of more flesh ripping, bone cracking, gurgling, pained whimpers. They didnât instill confidence in you about what might happen if you stayed. On three limbs you pulled your battered body through the carnage and back out the bulkhead. It still wasnât done yet. Part of you thought you heard a mangled plea to his beloved gods that remained unanswered.
All the better for you. Beg for your gods, forsaken âshepherdâ and see what your faith has earned you.
Your hands were shaking but you were gaining strength back now that you could breathe properly. At the very least you managed a half decent knot to secure your necklace once more before leveraging yourself onto your knees to try and stand.
It wasnât really much use trying to run from whatever this was, but part of you hoped it would be satisfied enough killing at least three space marines that a lone baseline would be beneath its notice. Warp beasts were fickle and unknowable things, creatures of pure whim and endless want. Surely slaking its thirst on the bloated souls of chaos marines would be enough? Right? You leaned heavily on the wall and started inching down the hall on unsteady legs.
The sounds grew quieter as you slunk away, the muted whimpers and the wet ripping of meat gradually fading into the oppressive silence once more.
You kept walking. Without reason, without direction. The alarm lights kept flashing, the cold seemed to dig deeper and deeper into your bones. At least the radiating pain of walking on a broken ankle kept your mind sharp. Like prodding a grox with a stun baton. You remembered Corvus telling you that pain could be a tool like any other, in dire situations you could dig deep and draw strength from humanityâs innate will to live no matter what. Humans, even baselines, could endure almost anything imaginable if they could just focus.
Focus like you shouldâve been to feel the presence creeping up behind you.
Your mind was so clouded that it took cold blood dripping onto your head to stiffen your spine. The pain, the memories, they froze and shattered as droplets splattered onto your scalp. Sticky, disgusting, you felt your fingers itch under the layer of flaking blood already on them. The thing didnât move, didnât breathe, it just stood there casting you in a shadow that felt ready to smother you like a flame. The last sputtering embers of you doused in inky blackness. You shivered. If anything were able to kill you permanently, a daemon such as this would be the silver bullet.
It didnât move though. Not to hurt you anyway. You stayed, tidally locked, unable to even force your body to move as cold sweat beaded on your brow. Eventually, the beast shifted. Just the sound of its feathers rustling halted even your whispered, panicked, breaths. But still, the blade never dropped, your blood never spilled, it⌠brushed its beak down into your hair. The jagged point of it, what youâd just witnessed rip Astartes apart, gently ruffled through the strands on your head. So absolutely dumbfounded you could hardly think, you remained a statue under the creatureâs attentions.
When it reached the part of your hair marred by the blood it rumbled, it sounded displeased and picked at the spot a little harder. It drew a wince from you that stilled everything once more. Then the daemon, you were beginning to question what exactly this thing even was at all, gently nuzzled the spot again. An apology?
This was achingly familiar. A song and dance that had played out innumerable times between you and Dusk. Heâd joyously preen you, get a little too rough, and then apologize with as much affection as his feathery body could muster. It made your heart hurt to remember him, it felt wrong to liken a warp-spawned monster to your beloved companion. But it felt so familiar. A knife point to the tenderest part of your soul.
The beast warbled again, curling over your shoulder to poke and prod at you more. Your ankle, your bloodied hands, the rapidly blooming bruises on your neck. Something like a hiss came from it then, resonant and laced with rage yet to be fully sated. Its beak never fully touched the marred skin but your pulse pounding under the bruise made it ache regardless of the thingâs bewildering delicacy. Still you could not will yourself to move. Fight, flight, freeze, the instincts buried in your very bones, reared their ugly heads.
Freeze. Freeze because youâve been spotted, because youâve been trapped, because you donât know what a predator will do. There was nothing you could conceivably do to this thing, even considering it nearly made a maddened laugh tumble from your lips. Utterly preposterous. Flight was an equally impossible and unappealing option. To run was to cement yourself as prey, as something to be caught. The traitors had been something of a known quantity, an enemy you knew and could play around. This was an unknown.
A small tink stilled the beastâs ministrations and pulled your eyes down to your chest. Down to the cord youâd hastily retied. It stared at the necklace for a long while, too long, before gently nudging the skull and the silver ring beside it. Something deep and mournful came from its chest, then a sigh that felt far too⌠human.
Clearly you were losing your mind, you had to be to even entertain the notion. But you couldn't help the tug you felt on your memory, of dark eyes that held so much pain, the heaving sighs that felt like a cathedral crumbling in your arms. Your beloved husband and sons, so ready to bottle everything up until they collapsed like stars.
The first tentative brush of your mind against the beastâs, it shouldâve been painful, it shouldâve stung like acid and made you recoil. But it didnât. It was so gentle, as if it were welcoming the contact. Surely this was a trap, its jaws would snap your head off just like that traitorâs. Not at all. It crooned and pressed into you further, gently turning you to face it and tucking you inward. Into ebony feathers and darkness unknown to even you. Or was it? Tentatively you brushed again at the avian beingâs spirit and felt its purring warble deepen, felt something like phantom fingers try to lace with yours.
It felt likeâŚ
Your hand tentatively drew up to the massive creature, its black beak leaning down into the curve of your palm. Something youâd thought long dead in your heart sparked and started to burn again. It couldnât be⌠could it? You leaned up further, trailing your hands past the smooth beak to the feathers shrouding its face. The moment your fingers sunk between the inky black feathers a shudder wracked the beastâs entire body and it fell to the floor with a massive thud. Its head followed your hand as you jumped back slightly in shock, still shadowing you with its massive height.
Your other hand reached up to caress the other side of its blood-spattered beak. Once you resumed your careful attention it wasted no time hooking that beak around your shoulder to drag you closer, nuzzling into the top of your head as a deep warble thrummed in its throat. It couldnât be. This felt so terribly familiar, like the warmth of ten millennia past all rushing back at once. Not quite the same but so unmistakable. You gazed up at the creatureâs obsidian eyes, half-lidded like it was immensely pleased with your presence. A stark contrast to the manic staring voids that had gazed at the Word Bearers with murderous intent before theyâd been torn apart. A breath caught in your throat, a name youâd not uttered in so very long, you still couldnât even bear to breathe it. Because youâd never dared to dream. Perhaps you were dreaming now, grasping at straws after a broken heart had finally driven you mad. âBut what if you werenât?â Your soul cried out. What if it wasâŚ
âIs it really you?â
The raven beast stopped its warbling, freezing in what you assumed was shock and your heart nearly lurched out of your chest when its massive head canted to peer down at you with those fathomless eyes. An eye that had a few more pupils than normal now that you got a closer look. So many questions for later, your first one still needed to be answered. You were more than horrified by how frantic, how desperate, you sounded when you called for an answer a second time. It garnered an even more pronounced response, the feathers of its body flaring out and its head recoiling from you in a flurry of wings and claws. It felt like dying again. Like a blade to the heart, twisting and scraping against your bones. The miasma of apathy youâd tried to live under to numb yourself evaporated under the heat of rage and grief you had never really put to rest.
You bit your lip to hold back a sob or a snarl, you couldnât really tell which. Your eyes and cheeks burned hot, tears welling and a tide of anger crawling all the way down to your neck. Fury. Relief. Pain. Love. So many things all at once, like a cup that had been filled to the very brim and a single drop finally broke the tension. It was overflowing, you were overflowing. And he was running again. He was trying to- bile rose in your throat. A choked sob finally crawled out of your throat, as wet and miserable as it had been the first time you lost him, and he stilled once more. Even struggling as mightily as you did to quiet the sound it may as well have been a gunshot for how he reacted.
When he started to move again a panic rose in you, that he was running, that youâd never get this chance a second time. So you said the first thing that came to mind.
âWHY?!â
Your voice was cracked and watery, so thin compared to all your bluster with the Word Bearers. âAfter ten thousand years, ten thousand years I wasnât prepared to live, to grieve. Centuries alone with our despondent sons until sickness finally claimed me only to have to claw my way out of my own mausoleum.â You advanced on him, your still-frozen husband, as odd as his form may be your heart and soul sang for him once more though the chorus was drowned out by your rage. Hot tears cut rivers through the grime and blood on your face as you continued, âIâd accepted eternity suffering alone. I was ready to face it!â You werenât, you never could be. âOnly for my husband,â your voice shook around the word as if youâd been punched in the gut, âonly for you to barrel back into my life and upended it! Give me hope I didnât want!â
The fever pitch of your heart rose higher as you stepped up to him again, glaring at where his face used to be. It seemed like the feathers had swallowed his features. Was it shame? Panic? It was hard to imagine a Primarch shrinking in fear before a lone, tiny, human. A hysterical laugh shook your body as the last bits of your composure crumbled. âI donât even know if itâs actually you! For all I know Iâm rambling like a lunatic to an actual daemon whoâs just savoring getting to listen to me have a complete breakdown!â His form shuddered again, and a few sickening pops and cracks came from him, but he remained stubbornly silent. If he could even talk anymore. You couldnât possibly know, how could you? The thought of having him back but never hearing his voice again sent another stab of anguish through you. Truly you could be counted amongst humanityâs most unlucky. A repeat recipient of backhanded and awful blessings.
A shaking hand reached up to your necklace, rubbing the cold metal of the wedding band between your fingers. Even after ten millennia of this it hadnât worn down. As stubborn as you were in the face of time that shouldâve dulled these feelings, you thought. The tide of anger subsided and a wave of exhaustion took its place. A terrible, agonizing little buoy of hope bobbed atop the wave. Hope could destroy you as surely as any bullet or blade, it could break your heart again. Leave you to sink and drown after daring to believe youâd see the surface, feel gentle moonlight instead of the crushing weight of the frigid depths.
You raised your hand once more, digging your fingers into his feathers. âWill you at least look at me?â Another shiver and suddenly the feathers you were touching felt as if they were shifting and changing under your palms. âPlease I canât-â a hiccuping sob shook the words from your throat. I canât I canât I canât. Not again. Please. Hope kept blooming in your chest, rose hips and gnarled thorns in equal measure. It felt as if your heart were trying to crawl out of your throat, abandoning your body to return to who it had always truly belonged to.
You sank further into the feathered chest of your husband, clutching fistfuls of down like a lifeline hoping that even so small a pain as a few pulled feathers would stop him from backing away again. The horrid, fleshy, cracking sounds paused and you were both left in an eerie silence once more, nothing but the groaning of the wounded vesselâs sputtering air recyclers broke it.
He moved again, shuddering one last time as you clung to him tighter, clutching feathers so fiercely you were sure some had torn loose. At least if he left again youâd have pieces of him this time. Something other than memories and pain, the empty, entropic void where his soul used to nestle around yours. You dug yourself deeper. Pressing your face into ebon feathers looking for the heartbeat youâd spent ten aching millennia slowly losing memory of. You had to remember. You had to hear it again so you could keep remembering when he leaves.
Because he must leave, mustnât he? The galaxy is cruel, fate is crueler still, of course he would be taken from you again. Wouldnât he? Was he even actually here? Whoâs to say you hadnât finally lost it? That this was even happening at all? Adrift in the Warp at the mercy of the Word Bearers and their rituals, dangling what your bloody, weeping, heart had wanted for so long only to snatch it away and offer your exquisite agony to a god eager to swallow it? You would live forever, die forever, suffer and forget and remember and scream âtil the very stars sputtered out. Because you would be alone again. Forever. Something humans were never meant to endure.
A cracked, shuddering, heave rattled your chest again and the body youâd pressed yourself to reacted as if youâd shot him dead in the heart. The sounds of sinew popping, bones and fascia sliding and grinding against and apart from each other, did not break your embrace. Stubbornly you remained immobile until you heard and felt him moving with more purpose. You pried your face away from his feathers, just enough to see massive wings slide from the ground up to enshroud you. Warmth. A shadow that felt more like comfort than fear, a darkness that would not harm you.
Home.
He moved again, leaning his massive bulk further in and over you as if to curl entirely around you. You felt something tentatively nuzzle at your head, something that resembled hair more than feathers. One of your hands released its death grip on his chest to drift upward, shaking, nervous, frightened by what you might or might not find. Your fingertips dared to touch but you couldnât bear to look.
His hair had always felt so soft. Youâd joked that clearly he, Sanguinius, Fulgrim, and Jaghatai had been the lucky ones to get such naturally gorgeous locks. To feel it again had your hand twitching as if to dig into the strands, twist them around your fingers as you once had in so so many ways. Playfully, practically, in the throes of mind-numbing pleasure. How it still felt the same all these years later you had no idea. It didnât matter. Your hand drew higher and pushed past the silken strands. When you felt skin, smooth human skin, your breath caught in your chest. He even seemed to still, like the very air had frozen around you, but he felt warm. He felt alive. You stepped back, feeling his body lean even further as if to fill the space. To close it. Your other hand joined the first, pushing tentatively through the veil of hair and feathers to find his jaw then his cheeks. Shapes you knew so intimately.
The embers of hope in your heart kindled and flared, screaming back into existence with a strength you almost couldnât bear to weather. It was like the days after he disappeared. When you would stare out into the stars and swear to yourself and your sons that heâd come back. Before you tried so viciously to kill your own heart so you wouldnât have to carry the grief any longer. To be empty would have been a mercy, to carve the agony straight from your chest would have been a relief.
But humans were never meant to be hollow.
They were meant to carry hearts. Heavy, fragile, miraculous, hearts, that could still skip a beat after ten thousand years of solitude. Hearts that could never help but keep loving even when love had long since started to hurt.
Shaking fingers finally parted the hair from his face and you looked up into the eyes of your husband. He looked older, tired, haunted, but he was still the man you remembered. The face youâd seen at the end of the aisle, that youâd woken up to so many times, that youâd kissed, and caressed, and watched fluster into an adorable pink. He was still him. He would always be him. Your heart, your husband, your-
âCorvus.â
You whispered his name like it was a prayer. Like a wish. Something broke in his eyes and you saw tears well against inky black, but before you could watch them fall you dragged yourself up onto your toes to press your lips to his. You trembled against him even as you felt familiar arms circle around you much like his far less familiar wings. Holding you to him as you deepened the kiss, holding you together while it felt like youâd fall to pieces.
You kissed him and he felt his heart give a shuddering throb for the first time in⌠since he left you, since he changed. He didnât need it to live anymore, but clearly it had always needed you and always would. He could feel yours pounding as he pressed his hand to your back, trying to drag you even deeper into him, into the kiss. And oh how you kissed him. Like it was the first time, the last time, the only chance youâd ever get to sear your feelings into his skin and soul again. It was a frantic, painfully tender, embrace, that held so many things in it. Relief, heartache, grief, love love love like heâd never thought heâd feel again. One hand twisted into his hair and the other swiped a tear from his face. Anger and compassion all at once as you pulled away to snatch a fleeting gasp of breath before his own lips chased yours again.
One of his own hands slid up your body to cradle your head and deepen the kiss again. He savored every inch of you he got to touch, so greedy for what he knew he didnât deserve after so long, but unwilling to give up the chance. His hand mirrored your own, wiping a tear from your cheek that was immediately replaced by another, but he would give anything for you to let him do that forever. To repay the sin of his absence, his cowardice, a million-fold.
You broke the kiss again when your lungs started screaming for air. Hiccuping and sobbing and gasping you plead with him as he tried to kiss the tears from your cheeks. âCorvus⌠please tell me youâre real. Tell me youâre actually here,â your fingers carded through his hair, âIâm begging⌠please.â You hiccuped again. âPlease, Corvus.â
Please donât leave me alone again.
His lips pressed one last kiss under your eye before he shifted, leaning to nudge his forehead to yours and look into your eyes. He had missed your eyes. Even now, glossy and red rimmed, dark circles etched heavy under them, they were still beautiful. The vibrant striations of color in your irises so unlike his inky black eyes. You looked so tired. Unable to bring himself any further from you he spoke against your lips, feeling them tremble as they brushed his. âI never should have left you.â
Everything in you shattered at once. Every thrice-damned minute of abandonment of grief and guilt over the last ten millennia. You wailed into his chest. Clung ever closer to him, howled and bawled your eyes out into his chest. âI never should have left you.â How dare he. How dare he say that now. You wanted to scream at him again, but you couldnât summon anything coherent to your lips. Heaving, stuttering, sobs ravaged your throat and you felt his hand cradling your head to his chest. Gently, so very gently, he held you, just like he used to. His form curled around entirely, wings stretching up to enfold you both, blotting out the light and even the sounds of the derelict hulk around you.
Blackness. Inky and complete darkness. You sank into it just as you had his embrace. Home. Corvus was a font of quiet, gut-wrenching apologies. His regret a gushing, bloody, wound. Everything, he despaired over everything. That he left at all, that he never came back, that you died waiting for him, that your sons lost you both to the same sickness. âIt wasnât your fault. It wasnât ever any fault of yours or theirs.â You sucked in a breath as a terrible, raw, black mark on your soul chipped away.
It hadnât ever been spoken aloud, but wasnât it always the burden of the abandoned to think âif only if onlyâ? To agonize on maybes until it felt like your stomach was full of hot lead? You had caressed cheeks and shoulders and hands over it, trying to allay the silent fears of your sons. None of them had asked it of you, stubbornly unwilling to lean on the shoulder you had always offered. They didnât want to weigh on you. Never. They wanted to protect you almost as much as their father did. Nykona, there was a pang in your chest remembering him, he had stood vigil beside you many times when you could no longer keep up a strong front.
The legion had always been rife with secrets, silence was paramount in almost every avenue of life for the Ravenguard. It was what made the XIXth so powerful, but it was also what unmade you all. The shame they bred and that rotted your life apart. The untold grief that sprang from that decay and chased you from your own mausoleum caked in grave goods and unguents. If only, indeed.
As your breathing finally started to level out you tried desperately to nuzzle yourself deeper into Corvusâ chest. The tears didnât stop, it felt as if they couldnât. It was only fair, really, theyâd waited ten-thousand years to fall again. Who were you to deny them? Where else could they ever want to fall but into the man who caused them? And he welcomed them, pressing kisses to your hair and cheeks once more as he fell to silence again.
He was back, he was staying. You couldnât even begin to contemplate tomorrow, what that fretful door to the future may hide. But now, right now, he was here and wholly unwilling to so much as let you stand on your own let alone leave. Corvus was different, you could feel it as again your mind brushed his, almost unbidden, and felt him press in and against your very soul. You sighed. It was warm. Like nights in the spire, embers burning low, touches heavy with love and longing. The fraying edges of you both tentatively began knitting back together. Fingers interlacing. Breaths mingling. Tucking into the edges of each other. So different now, but oh so familiar. Your husband was not the psyker his father was but he was always there in a way you could feel. Souls brushing the same way youâd press your hands together in silent, subtle, connection.
He pressed a final kiss to you before nudging his forehead against yours again, staring down into your eyes. How youâd missed them. Fathomless onyx, so cold and enigmatic to most, but most did not know Corvus Corax the way you did. Even so laden with guilt as they were, his eyes were soft, still rimmed with tears. So many things were writ so plainly for you to see on his face, things he could never hope to voice adequately and so would remain in the language he knew only you could decipher. You who embraced the Shadowed Lord. Who held his heart in your hands. Who gave your heart in return.
Even now, standing in the wreckage of ten millennia, of abandonment, of your own guilt and monstrosity. Youâd have him hold it again. You would give it to him again. Pluck it still beating from your chest and press it to his palms, bloody and warm. It would be different, and difficult, it may not even work, but everything in you screamed to try. To hope like you had tried not to for so long.
With a shuddering breath you finally spoke into him, steeling yourself and taking a leap of faith. One last leap. Oh to fly again. âI love you.â
âI donât deserve it,â he almost sobbed into you. You felt his heart lurch in his chest as he spoke, felt his lips and breath tremble against your own.
Your hands untangled from his ruined feathers to grasp his face and sear a kiss to his lips again. âI donât care.â
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 Jackâs lap, takes Jackâs 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 Iâm 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, itâs 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! âĽď¸ 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. âĽď¸
Jackâs forehead furrows as his eyebrows raise at your question. âFlew to Vegas tomorrow and elope?â He wants to make sure he heard you correctly.Â
âYeah.â 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 youâre genuinely distressed right now and he hates it, hates that he caused it, even inadvertently. He sits up further, leans forward so that heâs closer to you where you sit on the edge of the bed.Â
âWell, I⌠I think,â Jack pauses, just needs another second. âI think youâll regret it, not having the wedding. And donât-â Jack reaches out and grabs your wrist gently so that you canât 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. âDonât think that means I donât want to get married to you. I do. And if we decide we want to elope to Vegas or anywhere else, then Iâm okay with that. As long as you end up my wife, okay? Iâm not saying no, Doll.â He lets go of your wrist and grabs your hand, laces it with his. âIâm saying that I think we should sleep on it. I think you want the wedding weâve planned so far and that youâre beyond exhausted and that your anxiety is driving your brain right now, yeah?âÂ
You just look at him, seem a little like youâre lost to your thoughts, not in them, to them. âI⌠yeah,â you whisper.Â
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. âCome here?â He pats your side of the bed next to him and gives you a little smile. âPlease.â 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. âGood girl,â he murmurs, âthank you.âÂ
You canât help the way âgood girlâ makes you shiver. Maybe thatâs 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.Â
âWeâll sleep on it, okay? I promise we can talk about it in the morning and that Iâm not saying no.â Jack clicks his tongue. âCould you pick your dress up early and bring it with us to wear in Vegas?â 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. âWhat? Iâm dying to see you in your wedding dress.â
âI probably could, yeah.â You slide your hand down Jackâs bare chest a little, trace shapes with your finger, write little messages of love. âBut no. We donât need to sleep on it. I donât even know what that was. I want what weâve planned so far.â
Jack rubs your back with one hand. âIâll 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 donât need to know what it was, yeah? Itâs okay to not know.âÂ
You nod. âI just like knowing. Makes me feel like I have some control, which I know is a total fucking illusion.â You sigh into him, nuzzle against his neck. You like the way his stubble feels, itâs oddly grounding for you. âI hate this. Being like this.âÂ
Jack bites back the urge to say youâre 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. âI know, Doll.â He doesnât need to say more. Itâs not the time. Itâs 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. âCan I do anything?â
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 youâre 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.Â
He always takes such good care of you after even if the memories of it are so heavily fogged they almost donât 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.Â
Yeah. You think that just might do the trick, especially with as exhausted as you are and how hard heâll make you sleep.Â
Your eyes find Jackâs 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. âJack,â you whisper. Your voice confirms it.Â
Still though. He wants to be explicitly sure so that he doesnât start something you werenât asking for that will actually hurt you or make you worse. âFuck you all the way gone?â
âYeah.â You nod, eyes already blown wide. âPlease.âÂ
Jack nods, rolls the both of you so that youâre on your back with him hovering over you. âYouâre sleeping until you wake up tomorrow. Iâm not setting an alarm and Iâm not waking you up when I wake up. And if you wake up at a time I deem to be too early youâre going back to sleep, even if I have to put you back to sleep myself.â He drops his hips against you then and grinds against you as if you didnât already know what he meant. âDeal?â
âDeal,â 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. Itâs just a waiting game for the next couple of weeks.Â
Youâd 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.Â
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. Â
âNo strippers.â Jack glances up at Robby from the computer.Â
âOkay.â Robby nods.Â
Jack looks up at him again. âNo strippers.â His eyes return to the computer.
âNo strippers.â Robby nods again. He doesnât even sound facetious. Something about the interaction so far is quite entertaining to you.Â
âHey,â Jack looks up at him again, âIâm serious. No strippers. She wonât even be the mad one. I will be. No strippers.âÂ
âPeter, he agreed the last two times.â Jack looks over at you and blinks as you nod. You know you should stop there but you canât help yourself. You shrug, try and look nonchalant. âHeâs seen my boobs, he knows you donât need to be looking at any stripperâs tits.âÂ
Jackâs head whips back over to Robby, eyes glaring just a little at his best friend.Â
âWoah, woah, woah! Okay, I never said that.â Robby holds up his hands. âShe did. I didnât even think about that. I was simply respecting the boundary you set when you said no strippers for your bachelor party.â Robby brings his hands back down and shrugs. âBut again, theyâre very nice b-â
âI,â Jack interrupts Robby loudly to get him to stop talking before returning to a normal voice, glaring daggers at him now, âwill cancel the entire party and find someone else to officiate our wedding if you finish that fucking sentence Michael.â
You struggled to hide your laughter the second Robby started to say you have nice boobs again but Jackâs reaction pulls an audible laugh from you. Both Robby and Jack turn to look at you. âI just,â you shrug, âyou guys are funny.â It didnât escape your notice when Myrna moved in closer. You and her shared a conspiratorial look, something you seem to often do when youâre together.
âYou know,â Myrna interjects. All three sets of eyes find her in her chair a little behind Jack and Robby. âI could show Fruitcake my tits. Then theyâd be the last pair he saw.â
âThank you, Myrna, that would be perfect.â Jack smiles at her genuinely before looking to Robby with an overly saccharine smile.Â
âAbsolutely not. Put,â Robby emphasizes the word and shuts his eyes âyour shirt down Myrna.â Sheâd started to pull it up. He opens his eyes and looks at Jack. âThe officiant threat? It works both ways.â
Robby turns and starts to walk away and Jack snorts making Robby stop and turn back around. âOh please, you love us and her white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies far too much to even dream of it, Michael.â
âDonât worry Fruitcake, you can have some of this cookie.â 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.Â
âJust donât.â Robby holds his hand up at Jack. âJust donât say anything and weâre all going to leave and youâre going to buy me several drinks.âÂ
Jack looks over at you, eyebrows raised, smirking. âI suppose I did kind of start it, didnât I?â You admit with a nod. âA few drinks seems fair.âÂ
The wedding is in five weeks, just over a month. Itâs all you can think about as Jack drives you to Danaâs house. Itâs 2 p.m. on a Saturday. Youâve been invited over for a little party for Dana to show off the kitchen remodel they just finished on the house.Â
âDid she say if lots of people are coming?â you ask Jack.Â
Jack shrugs. âShe didnât, no. Just said to show up with you.â You smile at that. Sounds like Dana.Â
âHey, are you doing the whole something old something new thing?â Jack asks. âI heard a patient discussing it yesterday and it made me wonder.â
âOh, I hadnât really thought about it I guess.â You think on it for a few seconds and then shrug. âI mean I guess Iâd like to but no, probably not. Where would I get that stuff from, you know? I donât want to ask anything else of anyone, everyone has already done so much for us.â
Jack hums in acknowledgment. âPeople would if you asked. Without hesitation or feeling burdened.â
âI know, but still. Itâs really not a huge deal.â You look over at Jack and squeeze his hand where it rests on your thigh. âItâs not like weâre doing all of the wedding traditions.â
âNo we most certainly are not.â 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. âTime to go see how many people showed.â He gets out of the car and walks around to open your door for you, gives you a kiss as you get out.Â
The two of you walk hand in hand up to Danaâs door and knock. âHi!â Dana throws the door open. âSo glad you could make it!â Youâre 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.Â
âWell! Lead the way! Iâm excited to see it, especially since you wouldnât tell me which granite you settled on.â You throw her a look.Â
She laughs, starts walking you through the hallway towards the kitchen. But the three of you stop once you hit the living room.Â
The living room is decorated in bridal shower decor, a banner reading âbride to beâ hanging from the mantel and sitting and standing and mingling amongst it all are a few of your coworkers who youâre close to, your friend, and many of the Pitt crew, Victoria, Samira, Cassie, Mel, Heather, Kim, Parker and Princess. A chorus of soft âsurprise!â 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.Â
âOh my god,â you mumble. âDana?â You look over at her questioningly. âYou didnât⌠this is⌠wow.â A surprise bridal shower for you. A genuine, you had no fucking clue you werenât coming here for a get together to show off the remodeled kitchen, surprise.Â
âSurprise!â Dana laughs.Â
âYeah,â you laugh out incredulously. You turn to Jack. âDid you know?â Youâre not sure why youâre asking. You can tell from the lack of surprise on his face that he did.Â
âI did, but only for like a week,â Jack explains. You give him a lingering look of bewilderment mixed with incredulity before turning back to Dana.Â
âDana, this is so much.â You shake your head at her a little. âThis must have been so much work, I⌠thank you, I just, I donât know, I donât know what to say.â You laugh a little.Â
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. Heâs glad Dana ended up planning one for you. Sheâd asked him off-hand months ago if you were planning one and heâd told her no, you werenât, but he thought your friend might try to. He didnât hear anything else about it until last week when she revealed the kitchen party was really a bridal shower for you.
âYou donât have to say anything. All you have to do is come have a good time with us.â Dana smirks at you. âWe have so much champagne to get through.â That makes you smile. You love champagne. âAnd itâs real champagne, not sparkling wine.â She winks at you.Â
âOh Iâm sure itâs amazing, I just, I donât know I feel bad because you guys already threw us such an amazing engagement party, and now this and you really didnât have to. I love it and appreciate it so much, I just hope you didnât feel like you had to since I wasnât planning one.â Your brows and forehead are furrowed in concern.Â
The engagement party wasnât a surprise, you and Jack knew about it from the beginning. You just werenât 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 couldnât 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. Youâre still just floored.
âI didnât at all.â Dana smiles at you, gives you another hug. âAnd I wasnât involved in the planning of the engagement party, that was all Robby and Heather and Mel, so itâs not like Iâm pulling double duty. Plus I had a lot of help.â 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. âCome on, go say goodbye to your man and then you can see the granite while you get some food and a drink.âÂ
âThank you, Dana.â You manage to catch one of her hands when she takes them off your shoulders. âI mean it,â you squeeze her hand, âit really means so much to me and to Jack and I know I can be bad at expressing it. So thank you.âÂ
Dana smiles at you warmly in that way she does, eyes knowing and head bowing just a little to make it knowing. âYouâre welcome.â
âAlright, let me say goodbye to Jack!â You turn from Dana and walk back into the hallway where Jackâs standing waiting for you, pleased smile on his face. âI canât believe you knew.â You shake your head at him.Â
âKeeping that secret was one of the hardest things Iâve ever done and I only knew for a week. I wanted to tell you so badly.â He laughs a little, wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close and you rest your hands on his chest. âBut you deserve this. The surprise. The shower. I know you think you donât and I know me saying you do isnât going to convince you, but you do.â He leans in and gives you a quick kiss. âEnjoy yourself, yeah?â
You nod. âI always do with everyone here.âÂ
Jack laughs a little. âGood. I expect to hear all about it later.âÂ
âIâll do my best to take notes for you.â You give him a little smirk for a second and then let your face even back out. âYou picking me up?â
âCourse,â he nods, âjust call me when youâre ready Doll.â
âOkay.â The two of you share one last kiss. âLove you.â
âLove you too.â You both walk over to the door and Jack steps out. âDonât have too much fun without me.âÂ
A month. Only a month until the wedding. Itâs swirling in Jackâs 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.Â
Y - u come dwn
Y - ?
Y - pls
An amused smile makes its way onto Jackâs face. Heâs seen you pretty tipsy before and it looks like he will be again. He thinks itâs cute the way you asked him to come down, how you knew heâd be up and waiting for you even though itâs 2:30 a.m.Â
J - Iâll be waiting.Â
Jack is only waiting outside for a few minutes before an SUV driven by Danaâs 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.Â
âPeter!â 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. âHi! I missed you so much!â you giggle. Jack takes in your quite dilated pupils and the way you slur your words a bit and extremely giggly affect.
âOh, youâre drunk drunk,â 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 driverâs window rolls down. âTheyâre all more or less three sheets to the wind. The rest are sleeping in our guest room because I donât trust them alone at home and donât think they have partners. Iâm glad one of them,â Danaâs husband points at you and smirks, âhad the sense to call me and not an uber.â
Jack glances at you. âYeah, I am too.â
âI was gonna call you but D has a bigger car anâ we could all fit,â you giggle, words slurring together as you lean further into Jack. Someone rolls the window down and Dana, your friend, Heather, and Samiraâs heads become visible to varying extents.
Jack looks at them and then back at you and then back to Danaâs husband. âGood luck and godspeed.â Jack nods at him before turning his attention back to you. âOkay, Doll, letâs get you to bed.â
You take in a gasping breath and stand up a little straighter at his words, hands grabbing at the chest of Jackâs shirt. âFan-fucking-tastic idea, Dr. Abbot. Do yâknow how hot you are? Do I tell you enough? Look at him.â You look over at the window. âWait no donât heâs mine.â A second later you gasp. âOh my god and heâs like your boss. Mostly. Kinda.â That makes you all burst into giggles again.
âOkay,â Jack drawls, he already knows his version of bed and yours are two very different things, âsay goodnight.âÂ
âGoodnight! I love you all! Thank you! Debrief tomorrow!â You let go of Jackâs shirt with both hands to blow them all kisses and Jackâs quick to hold you even tighter as you sway now that youâre not holding onto him. You turn with Jack and start walking in, his arm never leaving your waist and hold on you never loosening.Â
Getting you inside and to the bedroom is easier than Jack expected. Youâre not super unsteady on your feet when heâs helping support you and guiding you. Heâs never seen you this drunk, not that youâre blackout drunk by any means, heâs just never seen you like this. He finds it quite adorable, even if itâs a little difficult to keep your attention.Â
Once youâre 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. âYou know you havenât even kissed me?â You pout at him.Â
Jack gives an apologetic smile. âIâm sorry, I just wanted to get you inside safely.â He tilts your chin up and leans down and into you. âCome here,â he murmurs. His kisses are short but filled with so much reverence you could drown in it.
âJack,â you sigh happily, get your lips on his neck and start to kiss and suck as your hands begin to wander. âPlease.â
Jack laughs a little to try and cover the groan he canât help but make when you manage to nibble at his neck. He pulls back up and looks at you. âPlease what, Doll?â
âPlease fuck me into next week.âÂ
âMm,â Jack gives you a gentle smile and shakes his head, âyou, my love, are far too drunk to consent to sex right now, as much as I would love to fuck you into next week.âÂ
âJackie!â you whine, pout harder than heâs ever seen. Itâs so adorable itâs a bit comical and he stifles a laugh. Maybe if he sees you naked, your drunk brain thinks, maybe then.Â
You start taking off your clothes and the only reason he allows it is because he needs to get them off of you. Once youâre 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. Thatâs why youâre 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 youâre wearing his shirt.Â
You giggle at him. âSo dirty, want me in your shirt. Want me to ride you too?â Your slurring is adorably intermittent.Â
Jack shakes his head at you with an amused smirk. âIâd like you to come into the bathroom with me so I can take your makeup off.â
âJack!â Itâs a drawn out whine that almost makes his name two syllables this time. âWeâre engaged.â 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. âSee? Thatâs blanket consent.â You wink at him, or at least attempt to.
Jack laughs through his nose, smiling and shaking his head at you. âThatâs not how that works, Doll.â
You sit on the edge of the bed and lean back on your elbows, open your legs for him a bit. âI think yes it is.âÂ
âI know no itâs not.â Jack raises his brows at you and gives you a little look with a small smile.
âWell Iâm sayinâ yes,â you slur defiantly. Â
âDoll, you are too drunk to say yes and have it mean yes. So Iâm saying no, okay? First thing in the morning.â Jack gives you a little smiled grimace, trying to keep it light and tease you a little about the hangover heâs sure youâll have. âIf youâre feeling up to it.âÂ
But the humor doesnât land and exactly what he was worried about happening happens.Â
âYou donât want me?â Itâs suddenly far more serious, your voice dripping with some real hurt, real insecurity.Â
âI always want you.â Jack crouches down and holds your face in his hands, brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. âHey,â he calls softly when you wonât meet his eyes. âLook at me.â You donât. âPlease? Itâs important.â 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. âI always want you. And if you werenât drunk, absolutely, Iâd already be inside you. Remember, I said youâre too drunk to consent as much as I would love to fuck you into next week?â You blink at him, vaguely recalling him making such a statement but eyeing him suspiciously. âI 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.â Jack goes to say more but stops, shakes his head a little, smiles at you. âAnd I know youâre not really taking any of this in so Iâm going to stop. But know that I always want you. Always.â
Youâre silent for a moment and Jack is concerned you donât believe him and trying to think of a different approach. âOkay, but I always want you.â 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 wonât let you, pulling his hands away. âSo itâs the same. So yes, we can. Yes, it means yes.âÂ
âThat was a poor choice of words.â Jack sighs to himself and brings his chin to his chest for a second. âItâs not quite the same or what I meant.â He shakes his head at you. âAs soon as youâre ready to and want to once youâre sober, okay?â You whine and go to say something, probably argue more. âI got your favorite Ben and Jerryâs today. You want to-â
You gasp and stand up, Jack following you up and his arms quickly encircling you to keep you from falling over. âDid you really?âÂ
Jack nods as he guides you back down so youâre sitting on the bed again. âI really did. How about you have some of that and some pedialyte and ibuprofen while I get your makeup off? And then weâll sleep, yeah?â
âOkay. But only because you got Ben and Jerryâs.â You point at him in the overdramatic way only a drunk person can.Â
âGood.â Jack smiles, leans down to kiss your forehead before starting to go to the kitchen. âStay sitting here, okay? Please.âÂ
You hum your agreement. âAt least one of us will be getting BJs tonight,â you mutter as he walks away. But Jack hears it and starts laughing.Â
He turns back to you at the door, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he looks at you. âI love you so much, you know that?â You nod at him and let yourself fall back onto the bed.
Two weeks later youâre standing at the desk in the Pitt chatting with Jack. Itâs a common sight anymore. Youâre waiting for Dana. Sheâs sneaking out early to go to your last dress fitting with you. The wedding is only two weeks away and while thereâs of course last minute wedding stress, truly youâre more excited than anything, ready for it to be here and be Jackâs wife, take his last name. And Jack is just as excited, just as antsy for it to be here.Â
âI canât even see the shoes?â Jack gives you a little pout. Itâs adorable and it honestly makes you consider showing him because heâs doing it here at work, in front of people.Â
âYou canât even see the shoes,â you confirm, give his pushed out bottom lip a quick kiss.Â
âYouâre so mean to me having them right here in front of me in a bag and not letting me see!â He gestures at the bag, keeps giving you those puppy dog eyes that almost always work on you. Almost.Â
You step a little closer to him and drop your voice so only he can hear. âIâll make it up to you tonight, okay Dr. Abbot?â You smirk when his jaw clenches and rolls.Â
He leans in even closer, hunches a bit to bring your faces closer together. âBy giving me a fashion show of your wedding dress and shoes?â He raises his eyebrows and gives you an encouraging smile and nod. He knows youâre most likely taking the dress home tonight.Â
âPeter!â You smack at his chest playfully.Â
âI had to try!â Jack straightens back up to his full height.
âMhm,â you hum at him. âItâs too bad, you would have really liked my little make it up to you treat.â Another clench and roll of his jaw.
âOh? And what would-â
âOh, hey! Youâre here, great.â Robby interrupts Jack who turns to stare daggers at him for interrupting his chance to find out what you had planned. âI uh, I need to talk to you both. Can we talk? Um, over here?â
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 hasnât been like this all day, only just now. Robby holds open the door for you both, shuts it and sits across from you.Â
He clears his throat and looks at you. âJack already told you about Jake and I.â Itâs a statement that picks up just slightly at the end as he seeks confirmation.Â
âYes and Iâm so happy for you Robby, for both of you. Iâd love to meet him when youâre ready, we could have you guys over or something.â You smile at him, warm and enthusiastic and genuine.
Jack had told you about Robby and Jake. Once heâd left your house the morning after Leahâs sister came in Robby had called Jake and Jake answered. And Jake agreed to meet up with Robby at Robbyâs 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 wasnât 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 heâd 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.Â
âYeah, that would be great, I think heâd enjoy that. Heâs asked about you Jack.â Robby looks over at him. âBut, um, on that note, kind of, I was won-â
âHe should come to the wedding!â 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. âOh my god.â You cover your hand with your mouth and Jack has to laugh. You remove your hand after a second. âIâm so sorry, I just had the thought and, and it doesnât matter. Please, go on.âÂ
Robbyâs stuck blinking at you for a moment. Jack looks at Robby and then you and then back to Robby and snorts a laugh.Â
âHe was about to ask if Jake could come to the wedding.â
You look at Jack and back to Robby. âReally?â
Robby nods. âYeah. But itâs okay if he canât, like if you donât have the table space or dinner or any of that I know itâs like two weeks away and you probably canât change numbers.â
âOf course he can come, we want him to come.â Jack gives Robby a bit of a you had to ask? look.Â
âWe booked extra spaces and food just in case. And heâs basically your son, heâs not just invited, we want him there! Iâm so sorry I didnât think about it and ask earlier-âÂ
âDonât apologize,â Robby cuts you off with a bit of a laugh. âIt means a lot that you guys want him there. I appreciate it.â He stands up. âThatâs all I had, I just didnât want you to feel awkward if you had to say no in the middle of the ED because of space or whatever.â
The second you step out someone is calling for Robby. âIâm being paged.â Robby raises his eyebrows and walks backwards for a second before turning around to walk off to where heâs needed.Â
âHey! There you are!â Dana calls, starts walking over to you. Itâs strange seeing her in anything other than scrubs. âYou ready?â
âYeah!â You turn back to Jack and lean up for a kiss and quick hug. âIâll see you soon Peter, I love you.â
âI love you too.â 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. âWhat was it? The make it up treat for me when I get home?â
Your smile shifts into a smirk as you pull your hand from him and walk backwards slowly. âThatâs for me to know and you to maybe find out, lover boy.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Jack emerge from the metro just across from the Louvre. Grabbing Jackâs 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 youâve walked closer you release Jackâs hand so that you can take a couple of photos with your phone.
âIsnât it beautiful?â You walk ahead of Jack a bit without realizing it.
âStunning,â Jack murmurs to himself. But Jack isnât 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 heâd 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.Â
âWhat do you think? I know it probably doesnât live up to expectations with how I went on about it, I just love it so much for some reason.â 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 heâs not there and so your brows furrow as you start to turn to look for him.Â
Jack smiles in anticipation. He knows that itâs a little ridiculous maybe, probably, seeing as how youâre 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.
âShut the fuck up.â You clamp a hand over your mouth. You know heâs already proposed but even so, thatâs the first thing you say? You think to yourself. Really?Â
Jack laughs, closing his eyes and leaning forward on his knee a little bit. âOh my god,â 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. âI love you so goddamn much. That was so perfectly you.â
You pull your hand from your mouth and open it like youâre going to say something and then close it, put your hand back over it.Â
Jack has to laugh a little at that too. He decides to keep it short and sweet this time. âYou are far and away the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I hope you know that.â Heâs still smiling but becomes a little more serious, eyes sparkling with mirth and tears. âI want to do every day and every night with you. I love you. So what do you say, Doll? Will you marry me?â
You move your hand from your mouth as a few tears slip down your face. Youâre beaming at Jack as you start to nod. âYesâ you giggle, âyes, yes, yes! Iâll marry you, Jack Abbot.âÂ
After you spend the day at the Louvre Jack explains why he had you bring a nice cocktail dress with you. Heâd 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. Heâs 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.Â
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. âTo the Abbots.âÂ
Jack swallows hard but mirrors you, lifting his glass and tipping it towards you a little before you carefully clink your glasses together. âTo the Abbots.âÂ
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. Heâs particularly wired for you tonight, canât really put his finger on why.Â
Maybe itâs 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 youâre going to be his wife. His wife.Â
Whatever the reason is all Jack knows is heâs 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 doesnât want to rush this, at all, and he doesnât, but that tension and need for you just continues to build.Â
He doesnât realize it but itâs the same for you. Jack looks so fucking hot dressed like this. He always does but thereâs something about this and how rare it is for you to see him like this and the fact that youâre seeing him like this in Paris thatâs driving you up a wall.Â
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 youâre praying youâll be able to taste on him later.Â
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. âItâs hot in here, I was dying with that thing, sorry Doll.âÂ
Your eyes narrow and you cock your head at him but donât say anything. You know he runs hotter than you but, at least to you, the restaurant isnât particularly hot and youâre usually the one whoâs more temperature sensitive. And something about what Jack just did feels familiar. But then maybe youâre 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 youâll be on your knees between his legs with everyone watching.
âHey?â Jackâs voice cuts through your thoughts and brings you back. âYou good?â Heâs almost a little too nonchalant with the question.Â
You look at him for a moment before you smile and nod at him. âMore than, Peter. Looking forward to dessert.â
Jack hums low, eyes greedy as they roam over your face, down your neck to your cleavage and then back up so heâs looking you in the eyes again. He fills out well past half hard, thankful heâs sitting and that the table provides cover. âMe too, Doll, me too.âÂ
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 heâs trying to distract you. You let him.
Dessert comes not long after your drinks and looks amazing. Itâs as delicious as it looks and the soft moan you let out when you first taste it has Jack even more riled. Heâs 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 doesnât particularly care which at the moment, he just needs you.Â
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. âTie raincheck.â You nod a little. âTie raincheck, that is exactly what this is.âÂ
Jack raises his eyebrows at you, tries to feign confusion. âNo idea what you mean, Doll.â Jack takes a sip of scotch.
You narrow your eyes at him. âYes you do.â
Jack sets his drink down and looks up at you. âDessert.â He points to it with his spoon.
âTell me Iâm right.â 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 whatâs to come, how heâs going to use the tie on you.Â
Thereâs 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. âDoll.â
âPeter.â
Jack cocks his head at you. âEat.â Thereâs a bit of a warning to it.Â
âYou know exactly what I mean. On the roof of the hospital because we didnât get to go to the wedding.â You set your spoon down and lean in a bit. âYou told me you promised to give me a raincheck on the tie because Iâd said something earlier about what youâd wear to the wedding and the tie would be in your pocket at the reception waiting to be used on me.â  Â
Jackâs eyes darken a bit more and he sets his spoon down, leans in close to you over the table and holds your gaze. âI know that as soon as we finish this,â he nods down at the dessert without breaking eye contact thatâs started to smolder, voice lower and more gravelly, âwe can go back to the hotel and I can use the tie shoved in my pocket on you and fuck you until youâre so cock drunk off me the only three things you can say are âJack,â âyours,â and âwife.ââ He leans back to sit normally and picks his spoon back up, gives you a little smile like he didnât just promise to fuck you stupid. âDessert first, yeah?âÂ
It takes you a few seconds but eventually you nod wordlessly and pick up your spoon.Â
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. Youâre eating dessert like he asked.Â
âDonât rush.â 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.Â
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 heâs gotten you. Jack knows and lets it happen. He knows heâs taking slightly bigger bites than he normally would because as much as he loves teasing you and dragging it out heâs also pretty desperate to get back to the hotel, to tease you and drag it out there.Â
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 driverâs attention since their window is down has absolutely no business being as hot as it is.Â
In the cab you canât help yourself. Your hand wanders over to Jackâs thigh and moves up and in until you find his semi. You know itâs going to come back to bite you in the ass but you canât 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 heâs stopped your fun and because he deliberately hasnât given you the satisfaction and looked at you since you got in.  Â
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. Heâs quiet as you walk through the hotel and in the elevator. You were hoping heâd 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.Â
âStop,â Jack instructs you as you step into the bedroom. You hesitate and he sees it, sees you deciding whether youâre going to push him tonight. You decide not to and so do as he asks, stopping in place. âGood.â Jack turns and goes back to get the door deadbolted and secured before coming back to you.Â
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.Â
He walks back to you, stands in front of you this time, eyes dragging down your body, lingering on the lingerie youâre 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. âYou get this for me?â 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.Â
âYes,â you breathe.Â
Jack hums at that, brings his eyes to yours and gives you a smile. âSo good using your words without me having to ask.â 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.Â
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. Youâre breathing much heavier now, both of you can hear it.
âItâs very pretty, and youâre stunning in it, Doll,â 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. âItâs a shame really.â
He pulls the fabric out far enough to slip the blade under it and pulls, cutting through the material with ease.Â
âFuck, Jack.â His eyes flash to yours when you say his name. Thereâs something darkly and deeply possessive about his look. Youâre not sure if youâve ever seen it this intense before. It makes your heart beat faster.Â
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. âMessy girl.â 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. âFuck,â he groans, other hand rubbing his cock just for some friction and relief, âthat for me too?â
You nod and he raises an eyebrow. âYes, yes. For you. Always for you.âÂ
Jack throbs against his boxer briefs that are entirely too tight for his liking now. Youâre testing his patience without even knowing it, just by standing here and doing what he asks. Itâs not a bad thing, heâs just acutely aware of how much teasing you is teasing him.Â
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.Â
Jack pulls away a bit and his hand finds his other pocket, pulls out the tie. You whimper a little at the sight. âNow, what to do with this?â He cocks his head at you. âCould gag you with it. Tie your ankles together.â 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 youâre praying. âI think,â Jack lilts, âthis is what weâre going to do. You were just so handsy in the cab, afterall, Iâm sure you had your fill of touching me then. Plus,â he takes your underwear from your pocket and lays it over one of your shoulders, âwe have these for your mouth.â 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 canât 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.Â
âNo!â You shake your head at him, whining and pleading. âI didnât, I didnât!â
Jack hums at you. âWell thatâs also a shame, then.â He grabs your underwear from your shoulder and brings them to your mouth. âOpen.â
âWait, wait, wait!â Jack freezes immediately. Wait is not one of your safe words but itâs also not something you end up saying that much during sex, especially not how you just said it. âNo! Not bad!â That stops him from pulling out the knot. âA kiss, please.â Itâs almost begged and Jack lets out a little laugh, a small amused smirk forming. âI want to know if I can taste your scotch on you, please, Iâve been thinking about it since you ordered it. Please, please, Jack. Iâll be so good, please!â
The smirk slips from Jackâs face as his jaw grinds at your words, at how youâve been thinking about tasting him for that long. âI suppose youâve been listening quite well so far.â You both know this is as much for him as it is for you after your admission.Â
Jack holds your face in his hands and leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens in anticipation and heâs 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. Itâs longer than he intended but he doesnât care, he canât get enough of the moans itâs pulling from you every time he licks into you and sucks on your bottom lip.Â
He forces himself to pull away. âSo?â
âYeah,â you pant, âI could. Tasted so fucking good.âÂ
âGood.â 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. âI hope you enjoyed it because the next time I kiss you I wonât taste like it.â He brings your underwear back to your mouth. âYou remember everything?â Heâs 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. âGood,â he nods. âOpen.â You do and he stuffs your underwear inside of your mouth, thumb brushing over your bottom lip when heâs 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 heâs 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 donât so all you can do is stand there and whine a few moans at him, try to plead with your eyes, for what youâre not entirely sure.Â
Jack hums at you. âBet you wish you hadnât been handsy in the cab now, donât you?â
You whimper at that, hand your shoulders a little. Jack smirks.Â
He walks to the bathroom and grabs a clean towel, lays it over the edge of the bed. âGo sit.â 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.Â
Jack walks back to the edge of the bed and stands in between your legs when they automatically part for them. âYou gonna be good and watch?âÂ
You nod rapidly, not even sure what it is youâre going to be watching but knowing itâs going to feel almost too good and be almost too erotic to stand with how keyed up you are.
âGood,â 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. âLay back.â
Jack nods at you, looks down at your cunt, now perfectly on display for him, swollen and glistening. âThatâs a good girl,â 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. âYou smell so good.â 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. Itâs a bit of an unexpected move, not one you can recall him doing to you, though you frequently do it to him when youâre taking him in your mouth. Jack breathes in deep through his nose and groans from his chest. âAlways smell so good for me. And you taste just as good.â
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 Jackâs laugh meets your clit as he sucks it into his mouth, his hands finding your hips and pinning them down.Â
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.Â
Youâre wailing for him because you can be with your underwear muffling every cry and moan his tongue rips for you. Youâre teary from the pleasure already, your whole body on fire. You never want him to stop it feels so good. Your hips struggle against Jackâs 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.Â
The intense eye contact you share makes Jackâs tongue feel even better, the pleasure in the creases of his eyes and pull of his eyebrows helping get you off. Thereâs 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. Heâd 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, didnât 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.Â
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 doesnât take long. Youâre close, already. And if he had more patience and wasnât as painfully hard as he is he would back off, drag it out longer, edge you a bit.Â
He sucks at your clit until it pops out of his mouth as he pulls his head away. âI want you to focus and feel, Doll. And keep your eyes on mine.â
You moan something that sounds like youâre trying to say âI amâ through your underwear.Â
âNo.â His voice is sharp, cuts through your pleasure haze, eyes blazing. âFocus and feel it.â Youâre not sure what it means but you nod, youâll do anything for him right now.Â
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.Â
You do, ground yourself in Jackâs eyes as you look at him and focus and feel. It hits you. You take in a gasped shuddery breath, try to say âoh my godâ around your underwear but it just comes out as a moan and a sob.Â
The strokes of his tongue against you arenât just precise. Theyâre spelling out his name. He starts over when he knows youâve got it. J a c k A b b o t M i n e M y W i f e. Youâre almost hyperventilating it feels so good, is so possessive it augments the feeling of his tongue three-fold. Once heâs finished the final e of wife he starts over with a J and one hand leaves a hip.Â
Youâre so focused on Jack and his eyes that you donât 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 youâre gone.Â
It shoves you over the edge, launches you over it really. The groans youâre 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. Itâs 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.Â
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, arenât 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.Â
He starts to ease off and slows just when he needs to, right before the point of painful overstimulation. Because thatâs 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.Â
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. âYou are,â itâs a little panted, âso delicious. I could do that forever. Live between your legs like that.â His words make you whimper again.Â
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. âGod, Doll.â You can hear him messing with his shirt, unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor, undershirt joining it a second later. âI couldâve 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.â
You moan at that, wish that you could see him getting undressed and talking about you like that. The clinking of metal tells you heâs 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.Â
Itâs quiet for a second until you strain and hear the softest hum of skin rubbing skin. Jackâs stroking himself slowly, eyes roaming your body intently. You whine. You want him back, want him inside you. Need him inside you.Â
âNeed something, Doll?â 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 âyou.â Jack uses a hand to wipe away some of the fresh tears that slip from your eyes. âMe? Just like this? So you can see since you canât touch or speak?â You nod quickly and repeatedly, drop your shoulders and widen your eyes to say please. âWell,â Jack starts as he pulls away from you and moves to the side of your legs, âthatâs not the plan baby.â
He flips you over so that youâre on your stomach, grabs your hips and pulls them up so that youâre on your knees. Even with your hands tied together like they are youâre still able to push the front half of your body up on your elbows a little. âI just really love having you from behind sometimes, you know?â 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. âLove looking at your ass.â His hands grip your cheeks, squeeze a bit roughly.Â
Youâve 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. âImpatient girl.â A hand presses into your lower back to still you and a second later you feel Jackâs other hand helping line himself up. âThatâs okay, Iâm a little impatient right now too.â
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.Â
âWeâve barely started planning the wedding and Iâm already impatient for you to be my wife.â Jack pulls out of you, right to the tip, hand still pressing into your lower back. âImpatient for you to have my last name.â
Itâs slow at first, teasing the both of you really, long, patient strokes out of you followed by easing himself back in. Itâs slow until it isnât, because Jack doesnât 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.Â
âYouâre already mine,â Jack grunts. âSo fucking mine, god!â 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. âEveryone knows from the fucking rock on your finger.â He keeps fucking you at the same pace, doesnât slow down for a second. It shakes the bed, hard, and itâs the reason he put you sideways, so the headboard didnât keep slamming against the wall and earn you a noise complaint. âEveryone knows you belong to me. Knows youâre mine.â
Youâre reduced to tears and moans by his words, struggle to keep yourself up as your whole body shakes.
âI love fucking you like this. Can get so deep, fuck you so hard.â 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. âCan fuck my pussy. So. Fucking. Deep.â 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 whatâs set him off like this but youâd like to know so you can keep it in your back pocket. Itâs the last semi-coherent thought you have.Â
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 heâs about to come and you sob at the loss. You donât have much time to think about it or be sad though because heâs flipping you over and leaning over you and thrusting back inside of you in seconds. Heâs still though.Â
âYouâve been such a good girl,â he murmurs through a pant as he undoes the knot of the tie and unwraps your hands. âTaken it all so beautifully.â His praise makes you shiver as he removes your underwear from your mouth, makes the fire thatâs 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 thatâs dripped out from having the gag in. Youâre panting hard, punctuated by hiccupped breaths from your tears. âSo good for me.â 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.Â
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. Itâs just his hair. Just running your hands through his hair. The kiss isnât as long as either of you would like since youâre both panting pretty hard, already out of breath. âI mean it you know.â He nods, pushing back in slowly, just like he had earlier. âI canât wait for you to be my wife.âÂ
âI know.â Your voice is raw. âI canât wait to be your wife.âÂ
âGood,â Jack murmurs, presses another soft kiss to your lips. âI have a promise to keep.â
Heâs straightening up and throwing your legs over his shoulders before you can process his words and try to think about what promise heâs talking about. And then Jackâs right back to fucking you. Hard. With a kind of nearly reckless abandon thatâs driven by sheer need.Â
âJack!â You tug his hair hard and it just spurs him on, makes his hips move faster somehow. âOh fuck, Iâm, itâs too, youâre tooâŚâ You shake your head a little, donât even know what youâre trying to say, âPlease. Please.â
âPlease what?â Jack pants out as he leans into you further, rolls your hips up more so he can get even deeper. âWhat Doll? Please what?â
âAny, anything!â Youâre lost in the sensation of him. Heâs all you have, all that exists to you right now. âI, I.â A little moaned sob leaves you as you give up trying, let your eyes flutter closed.Â
Jack laughs darkly. âYouâre so fucking-â Jack has to stop to groan when you somehow find it in you to rock your hips in time with him. He doesnât remember what he was going to say. âMine,â he growls at your ear. âYouâre fucking mine.â 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. Heâs got you nearly pressed in half, your hips tilted so far up heâs snapping his hips and fucking nearly straight down into you. âLook at me.âÂ
âJack, I, I, I canât,â you stutter through a moan. âCanât, I canât.â
âYes the fuck you can,â he growls. âI know you fucking can, Doll.â You force your eyes open, Jack coming into focus as your tears clear enough to really see him. Youâre glad he made you open them because fuck does he look good. Jack is feral and possessive in a way you havenât 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 youâd struggle to tell what color his irises are if you didnât already know. His flushed face and neck are strained, veins more prominent than usual.Â
And Jack is looking at you like youâre the only thing that exists to him in this moment. Like heâs so attracted to you that he canât get enough of you. Like fucking you is a privilege. Like he needs you so bad it hurts. Like heâll never have enough of you. Like he knows youâre his in every sense of the word. Like he knows how good heâs fucking you, cocky and proud.
âThatâs my good girl,â he purrs at you, all gravel and rasp. Every thrust steals your breath as it sends another wave of pleasure through you. Itâs dizzying, how heâs making you feel physically and emotionally. He always makes you feel so wanted but itâs even more heightened right now. Heâs desperate for you. Youâre the only thing on his mind. âWhose are you?â
Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find the word, panting out small sobs until it mercifully runs through your mind. âY-yours Jack,â you cry, âyours!â
âThatâs fucking right,â he growls again, leans his head into your neck and sucks hard. âAnd.â itâs harder for him to get words out too. Jackâs just as pussy drunk as you are cock drunk. âWhat are you gonna fu-fucking be?â
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 heâll have scratch marks and bruises tomorrow. Youâre a panting, sweaty mess beneath him. âIâŚâ Youâre so far gone you hardly know how to begin to even try to think to find the word.Â
He sucks at your neck one last time and pulls back up. You havenât answered him. âEyes back on me,â he orders. You comply, eyes opening to find his again. âWhatâre you-â Jack groans as you squeeze him even tighter. âFucking christ youâre so good, feel so fuckinâ good!â Jackâs derailed for a moment by his pleasure, the pleasure youâre giving him. But the promise comes back to him. âWhatâre you gonna be?âÂ
Youâre 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.Â
âWife,â you moan, at the pleasure youâre feeling and the thought. âYour wife!â
âFuck!â Jack snaps his hips even harder when you say it. He loves hearing you say it. âThatâs right. My wife. My fucking wife. My fucking wife with her perfect fucking pussy thatâs mine. You are fucking mine.â Jack starts to babble as he gets closer and closer. âAnything else to say Doll?â he chokes out through heavy pants.Â
You shake your head, let out a sob. You need this. Need him, need to come, need to feel him come. âJack!â Your nails dig into his back and neck. âJack!â you moan again. Itâs the only word your brain can come up with unprompted.Â
âGood,â he grunts, panting hard as he shifts and slides a hand between you, circles at your clit. He doesnât even mean to pull it from you that fast but youâre so close and so far fucking gone that itâs just a few swipes of his fingers and youâre coming, the pleasure searing every nerve.Â
Youâll look back and know that itâs easily the hardest youâve ever come, easily. Youâre rendered totally breathless, completely lost to the pleasure flooding you. Jackâs 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 heâs slamming into you, pulling his hand from your clit and grinding himself against you as he tries to prolong his release and yours.Â
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 youâve 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.Â
Jack collapses on you carefully, so that his head is at your chest and your torso isnât completely covered by his making it harder to breathe. Heâs shaking just as badly as you are, both of your bodies have no idea what to do with all the pleasure. Youâre 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 otherâs 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.Â
Jackâs 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. âOkay,â he finally pants out minutes later. âYou are so fucking good, fuck me. You feel so good.â 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. âMy good girl. So perfect and beautiful for me.â He gives you a few more kisses and then he forces himself to roll off you.Â
âJack?â you whimper. You miss him already, miss his body weight helping calm your shakes and his warmth and his smell. Youâd stopped sobbing and Jack doesnât want you to get teary again.
âShh,â he soothes you, âitâs okay, Iâm right here.â 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 heâs 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. âYou did so fucking well,â he murmurs through softening pants. âI love you.â He kisses the top of your head. âYou were so good, Iâm so proud of you.âÂ
âI love you too,â you murmur, absolutely fucking glowing in his arms at the praise, smiling to yourself as you nuzzle his chest. If his arms werenât wrapped so tightly around your body you think youâd be floating away from how good you feel.
Jack shifts, grabs a bottle of water from the nightstand and opens it. âWater, yeah? Please.âÂ
You whine at his request, but this one is playful, youâre back with him. âDonât wanna move.âÂ
Jack laughs softly. âYou barely have to, just lift your head a little, okay?â You huff a little but do as he asks and he holds the water for you, tips it carefully so that it doesnât flow too fast for you and pulls away when you start to pull back. âThank you Doll.âÂ
âThank you,â you hum at him in response, settle your head back on his chest. âYouâre so fucking good too, you know. I hope you know. Iâve never been fucked the way you fuck me.â
âAlways. And I do know. Believe me, you make sure I fucking know.â 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. âYou doing okay, Doll?âÂ
âSo, so much more than okay.â You realize with how raw your voice is and how youâre still shaking a little itâs not very reassuring. âMy body just,â you take in a deep breath, âdoesnât 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 Iâm the luckiest girl in the world to have just gotten fucked like that.â You sigh so dreamily it makes you giggle.Â
âGood,â he murmurs, chuckles just a little from your last sentence and your giggles. He knows youâre okay and relaxes. âWeâll 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 Iâll massage you out a little, once weâre out of the bath, okay?â
âYou donât have to do that.â You kiss his chest because heâs the sweetest.Â
âI 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?â Jack kisses the top of your head.Â
âI know. And I want to take care of you too.â You run a hand through his sweat damp curls, scratch at his scalp. Your shaking has stopped now.Â
Jackâs head leans into your hand on instinct because of how good it feels. âYou always do,â he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. âI love you Doll.â
âI love you too Peter.â He can feel your smile against his chest. âKinda sleepy.âÂ
Jack lets out a little laugh through his nose. âIâm sure you are. I am too. Letâs get you into the bathroom, yeah? You can pee while I start the bath and then once weâre in you can even doze on me a bit if you want okay?âÂ
âYeah.â You nod a little and take in a deep breath before moving with Jack so that youâre both properly sitting up.Â
He stands up and holds his hands out for you. Youâre so blissed out you donât even realize heâd left his prosthetic on. âReady?âÂ
âReady.â You grab his hands as you push off the bed and wow can you feel the soreness and stiffness already. And thatâs on top of how your legs feel weak and shaky right now from how thoroughly youâve just been fucked. You let out the softest groan of pain.
Jack catches it immediately, wraps his arm around you to help support you. âYou okay?â 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.Â
As always, he pours in a copious amount of bubble bath gel. Youâd told him once that bubble baths were your favorite and so he always tries to make sure thereâs something for you. Bubbles or a bath bomb, youâd mentioned liking those once. This is the upscale expensive brand bubble bath that the hotel provides. You both enjoy the way it smells.Â
âPeter?â you call to him from the small separate area where the toilet is.Â
âWhatâs up? You okay?â Jackâs already moving towards you.Â
âCan we have bubbles?â You support yourself on the wall and stand and flush as he comes into view. âI forgot to ask.âÂ
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. âYouâve got bubbles already waiting for you, Doll. You never need to ask. Iâve got you.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Itâs the day of your third anniversary.Â
You and Jack didnât 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 Jackâs 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. Jackâs 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.Â
âI think itâs time to get up, sleepy girl,â Jack hums at you.Â
You shake your head against him lazily. âDonât wanna leave this. You.â
Your voice is so sleepy and adorable Jack can hardly stand it. âYou know what today is?â
âMm,â you hum at him, make no effort to pull yourself further awake. âSaturday.â Jack scoffs a laugh and rolls his eyes affectionately even though you canât see. You smile against his chest as he shakes his head. âAm I wrong?âÂ
âNo,â 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. âBut thatâs not what I was looking for.â
âI canât believe you just pinched my ass to wake me up on the morning of our third anniversary and wedding!â You donât move an inch and Jack gets the answers he was looking for.
âI did not!â Jack huffs with a laugh. âYou were already awake when I pinched you!âÂ
âThe pedantism Iâm facing at this hour of the morning is unreal,â you sigh dramatically.Â
âOh that was hardly pedantic, and you know it.âÂ
âI know no such thing. But,â you pause for effect and to kiss at Jackâs collarbone, nibble at it just a little. The reaction from him is immediate, hips canting just slightly against yours. Youâve felt how hard heâs been this entire time. âI do know that if we stop debating it youâll have enough time to fuck me one last time as your fiancĂŠe. If thatâs something youâd be interested in.â
Jackâs already rolling you onto your back before you even finish the word fiancĂŠe. âSay it again.â 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 wouldnât have time this morning but still.Â
âFuck me one last time as your fiancĂŠe Jack.â 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. âFuck me one last time with this last name.â Jack stills at that. Obviously he knew your last name was changing but until you said it he hadnât 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 heâs about to, that heâs 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.Â
âJack,â you moan his name softly as you roll your hips as he grinds against you. âFuck me one last time before my last name is Abbot.â
And so he does.Â
Jack stands in front of his dress blues where they hang waiting for him to put them on. Itâs 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 canât help the little pang that hits him. You could have died. Heâs 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 didnât. Youâre 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.Â
âYou good?â Robby walks in before Jack can fully pull himself out of it.Â
âYeah,â Jack nods. âIâm more than good. Iâm marrying her today.â Robby doesnât say anything, waits to see if Jack has more to say. âIn 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 Iâm not sure I deserve that it feels like itâs too good to be true somedays, like sheâs too good. Like this life with her is the dream and that nightmare is reality and Iâm going to wake up any second in your guest bedroom without her and be back in that nightmare.â
Robby nods slowly, takes in a breath as he thinks. âWell,â he draws the word out in contemplation. âI can promise you this isnât a dream Jack. Youâre not waking up from this to the nightmare that life without her would be for you.â
âI know. And I donât want to seem sad, because Iâm not, Iâm so far away from sad.â Jack pauses, gets a little quieter. âSheâs everything, Michael. Sheâs the only thing Iâll ever need. And Iâm marrying her today and itâs so fucking clichĂŠ 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?âÂ
âI donât think youâre sad Jack. I think youâre in love and about to get married and with everything you guys have been through I can understand why itâd throw you for a second.â 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 Jackâs face. âBut I know for a fact that sheâs getting ready right now thinking, for reasons I may never personally understand,â he lets out a small laugh which Jack preemptively rolls his eyes at, âthe same about you. That youâre 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, Iâd be willing to hazard a guess that sheâs probably not sure what she did to deserve you either, not sure she deserves you.âÂ
Jack finally pulls his eyes from his dress blues to look over at Robby. He doesnât say anything though, voice just a little too thick with emotion.Â
âAnd to that I have two things to say. One,â he holds out a finger of his left hand horizontally in front of him and wraps his right hand around it, âI love you both dearly, I really do, but you are both fucking idiots for thinking you donât deserve each other and your love. And two,â he moves his right hand off his one finger and holds out a second that his right hand then wraps back around, âyou do deserve each other and each otherâs love. Why is she worthy of your love, but youâre not worthy of hers?â Itâs a rhetorical question. âBecause Jack, you say sheâs 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.â Robby shakes his head a little and takes in a big breath before letting it out. âAnd she deserves you and your love, right?â Jack nods. âWell 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.â
Itâs quiet as the two look at each other. Robbyâs words hit Jack hard. Heâs right. Jack hates admitting it but heâs right. All he can do is nod at Robby who gives him a little smile in return. After a second Jack clears his throat. âGod 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?â
âHa!â Robby laughs. He knows by the use of his real name that Jackâs thanking him in the only way he can right now. âHeâs got jokes.â
Jack laughs with him but grows a little more serious. âAre you going to give her the same spiel?
Robby nods. âI can go right now and do it, see her in her-â
âNo! Do not!â Jack cuts him off, Robby smirking and laughing. âYou can talk to her through the door. Or have a dance with her or something later.â
âWhatever you want, brother. Get dressed.â Robby squeezes Jackâs shoulder as he walks by to step out of the room. Â
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. âFor you.â Robby hands him a decently sized small box.Â
âAw, Robby, you shouldnât have,â Jack teases him.Â
Robby snorts. âI didnât.âÂ
Jackâs 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 canât 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 heâs sure itâs because you measured his wrist during the night or when he fell asleep on the couch at some point.Â
âReady?â Robby is holding Jackâs 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. âI have the rings.â Robby touches where his inside pocket is. Thereâs a knock on the door. âI think thatâs my cue.â Robby walks over to Jack and they share a hug. âIâm so happy for you Jack. Iâll send her in, yeah?â Jack nods and Robby starts walking over to the door.Â
Not far away youâre 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.Â
Once youâre 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. âI have something for you.â She hands you a box thatâs six or seven inches in length, not overly thick.Â
You take the box from her and smile. âThank you Mel, thatâs so sweet of you.âÂ
She shakes her head. âNo, itâs not from me.â You furrow your brows at her and give her a confused smile. âI think you should open it.âÂ
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 hadnât thought much of it since then, but had a moment or two where you kind of wished you could. At least now youâll have one of the four. You set the note aside and open the box. âOh my god, Jack,â 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.Â
âWow,â Mel laughs a little stunned as she takes in the bracelet with you. âItâs beautiful. Very sparkly.âÂ
âI love sparkly,â you murmur to yourself as you nod slowly, still a little stunned. Youâre not surprised by it in the sense that itâs a very Jack thing to do, youâre just still in disbelief sometimes that you found Jack, think you probably donât deserve someone as good as him. He did this for you. Got this for you. Just because he wanted to.Â
âWant me to put it on?â Mel asks.
You glance up at Mel at her words. It takes a moment for them to process and then you nod. âPlease.â 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. âFuck,â you breathe out. Itâs even more stunning on.Â
âYeah, Iâll say.â 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.Â
Your friend is the next one to come sit by you. She hands you a box thatâs a little bigger than a necklace box. âThis one is not from your almost husband. Itâs from me.â She raises her eyebrows at you and gives you a little smirk as you start to open it. Inside is the garter sheâd helped you pick out one day, only in a light shade of blue. âSomething blue.âÂ
âThank you,â 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. âItâs even more beautiful in blue,â you laugh. Your laugh draws attention and you quickly hold it up. âPretty blue garter,â the three who work with Jack collectively make noises of fake disgust and gagging, âmhm, yep, thatâs what I thought.â You all share a laugh.Â
You smile at Heather when she comes to sit by you. âOld or borrowed?â You ask with a smirk and raised brows.Â
Sheâs smiling as she offers you what is a necklace box. âIâm not sure if it really counts as old,â she says as you open it, âso I have a backup just in case.â You raise your brows at her as you take the lid off. Inside is a larger cameo locket with a humming bird on it. Itâs beautiful in its simplicity. âOpen it. Also I didnât 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.âÂ
You carefully take it out of the box and open it. Inside is a locket sized photo of you and Jack. âOh my god,â you whisper. âThatâs the first photo Jack and I ever took together.â You look up at Heather glassy eyed. âHow?â
âRemember 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 guysâ while Dana was showing you the one of her and her husband sheâd 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.â She shrugs, but you both laugh. Youâre back to looking at the photo of you and Jack, running your finger down the edge of the locket. âI 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.âÂ
âHeather,â you breathe shakily, as you look back to her, lips pressed in a line but pulled up in a smile that says youâre trying not to cry. âThis is incredible. Thank you.â
âThatâs so fuckin sweet,â Dana dabs at her eyes. Itâs then you realize her, Mel and your friend have gotten close. You pass the locket around so they can all see the photo. âYouâre making us all look bad Heather!â
Heather laughs and shrugs. âIdea just came to me.â You smile at her again and reach out and squeeze her hand, nodding at her in thanks again.Â
âWell, I suppose catâs outta the bag that Iâm borrowed.â 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. âI know itâs 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.âÂ
âOh Dana, itâs beautiful.â You look up at her. âBut Iâm not an Evans and I wouldnât want to risk messing up itâs ma-âÂ
âNo.â Dana cuts you off with a âpleaseâ look. âNone of that bullshit. You are an Evans. So is Jack. Even if not in name.â You look back down at the ring and then up at her, round eyes and eyebrows slightly furrowed, a silent âreally?â âI brought ring sizers just in case it doesnât fit on a finger on your right hand. We can make it work.âÂ
âThank you,â you whisper when she gets closer, swallowing thickly. âIt means more than you know.â Dana doesnât 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. âThere we go. Something old something new something borrowed something blue. He made it happen. That man.â You laugh a little to yourself as do the others.Â
âSo,â Mel clears her throat, âthe rhyme actually ends with âand a sixpence in her shoe.â I wasnât really sure if youâd want to do that or if someone else would get one, so I got one just in case. It goes in the left shoeâ Mel holds it up. âI brought some quick set epoxy if you wanted to glue it to the bottom of your shoe if itâs heeled and has a spot that wonât 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.â She smiles at you. âBut totally cool if you donât.âÂ
âNo no, we have to have the full rhyme!â You cock your head at her and smile. âItâs perfect Mel. Thank you so much.â You walk over and grab your shoes. âHelp me get it on my left shoe somewhere?â 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. âThank you Mel. I would have been so annoyed if I found out we didnât do the entire thing after,â you laugh.Â
âI thought you might be,â she laughs with you. âIâm glad it worked out.â By the time you and Mel turn back to the group everyone is finished with hair and makeup.
âAll right, weâll head out and let you get dressed.â 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 itâs just you and Dana now. She was the only one who went to any of your fittings with you, so sheâs the only one to see you in the dress with it fitted properly. It doesnât take long to get you in it, all things considered, and your accessories donât take too long either.Â
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. Youâre in your dress for real this time. All of your accessories on, hair and makeup done, shoes on. Youâre going to go walk down the aisle to Jack in not more than ten minutes.  Â
âYou look beautiful, kid.â Danaâs eyes are a little glassy as you look at each other through the mirror. âIâm really happy for you guys. You are so so good for him. Iâve never seen him so happy, and Iâve known him a long time.â
âThank you,â you whisper, giving her a tight smile and tilting your head back a little trying to stop any tears from forming. âIâm sorry, I just donât want to cry yet.âÂ
Dana laughs. âItâs okay. If youâre all good Iâm going to head to my seat.â
You nod. âThank you. I mean it Dana. Weâre lucky to have you.â She gives you one of her smiles and nods, goes to turn. âYou should go see Jack. Before you sit down.â Danaâs eyebrows furrow as she turns back to look at you. âPromise me youâll go.â Her eyes narrow in suspicion a little but she nods and walks out.Â
She knocks when she reaches Jackâs room. âThere you are.â Robby smiles at her as he opens the door. âYou look very lovely.â
Dana gives him a suspicious look. âThanks. You donât clean up top bad yourself Cap. Is there a reason Iâm here?â
Robby nods and she walks in the room. âHeâll explain. Iâll see you out there.â He gives her a last smile before exiting the room, the door closing behind him.Â
âJack?â 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. âWow,â Dana lets out a low whistle. âArenât you a sight?â She walks over to him and gives him a hug, a kiss on the cheek.Â
âYou look pretty damn good yourself,â Jack tells her.
She waves him off. âYou look very handsome. Sheâs gonna cry. And youâre definitely gonna cry when you see her.â She rubs in that sheâs seen you just a little, earns the smallest eye roll from Jack. âYou need something? Your bride got all mysterious on me, âpromise me youâll go see Jackâ and then Robby answers the door grinning like an idiot and offering no explanations.â
Jack shrugs at her, smiling like he knows something she doesnât and thatâs going to make her react. âI need someone to walk me down the aisle.âÂ
Danaâs head lolls forward a little, eyebrows raising as she stares at Jack. âI thought you guys werenât doing that.â
Jack shakes his head. âShe decided not to have anyone walk her down the aisle. I never decided I wouldnât have anyone.â Danaâs still looking at him in disbelief. âI want someone to. And who better to do so than the second most important woman in my life?â Danaâs eyes get watery and she cocks her head at Jack, silent because sheâll cry if she tries to speak. âYou know I mean that and that itâs true,â Jack tells her softly.Â
Dana nods at him. âJack, IâŚâ She fans at her face and grabs a tissue from the nearby box, dabs at her eyes. âYouâre pretty important to me too, you know that?â She whispers as she wraps him in another hug. He laughs softly and nods. âIâm so happy for you Jack. For both of you. Sheâs everything youâve ever deserved. Iâm so glad you found your one.â Dana sniffles and finishes wiping at her eyes. âIâd be very proud to walk you down the aisle.âÂ
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 thatâs 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.Â
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.Â
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, itâs the first time. He looks good in them, of that there is no question.Â
When they hit the end of the aisle Dana rests her cheek against Jackâs and gives him a little cheek kiss as they hug again. âIâm so proud of you Jack. And so, so happy for you,â she whispers to him. âYou deserve this, yeah. The both of you do.âÂ
âThank you, Dana.â Jack rubs her back a little. âYou have no idea how much we appreciate you and everything youâve done for us. And for me over the years.âÂ
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.Â
Jack looks around at everyone who came. The ceremony space is completely full. Itâs small, but big enough, an intimate ceremony of just you and your closest friends and family. Neither of you wanted something huge. All of Jackâs 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 Danaâs kids, Langdonâs kids, Harrison, Becca and Jake.Â
In his mind he notes that it feels like entire damn department is here and he canât 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 doesnât really matter and he doesnât really care because heâs 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.Â
Jack canât believe itâs 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. Heâs sure that if he didnât have one hand clasping the back of the other and hanging down in front of him theyâd be shaking. Â
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.Â
In the staging area at the top of the aisle your heart is racing just as fast as Jackâs 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 canât 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.Â
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 canât 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 youâve 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.Â
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.Â
Jackâs breath catches in his throat when he sees you, a beaming smile pulling on his face and tears hitting him immediately. âOh my god,â 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.Â
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.Â
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, isnât the focus. The focus is you, just as it should be, he thinks.Â
Youâre a vision as you walk towards him, radiant and ethereal and breathtaking. And somehow youâre his. His girl, his woman. Youâre about to be his wife and Jack doesnât know how he got so fucking lucky. He sniffles as more tears fall that he was to wipe away.Â
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 canât look anywhere else. You suddenly donât care if you trip or stumble or fall because you werenât 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.Â
Heâs 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. Heâs breathtaking, truly. And somehow heâs yours. Your man, your Jack. Heâs 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.Â
Jack looks at you like youâre the last sight he ever needs to see to die a happy man as you walk towards him, like youâre 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 youâre walking towards your future and the only thing that matters. Because he is.Â
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 otherâs eyes.Â
As you reach the end of the aisle you slip your bouquet to Dana and take the hand Jack offers you. âPlease be seated.â Robby nods at the audience.Â
âWorth the wait I hope?â you whisper to Jack as you stand across from him and face him, voice trembling and more tears sliding down your face.
âYouâre,â 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. âYouâre beautiful, Doll.â You know what he means, know that beautiful means what it always does but that thereâs an extra indescribable edge to it right now. You know because itâs how you feel about him. âGorgeous. There arenât words,â he whispers to you.Â
âThatâs how I feel, there arenât words for you either.â The smile you give him is a little trembly as a fresh wave of overwhelming love hits you. âYouâre so handsome, Jack. Unfairly so.â And just like beautiful, handsome also has that edge that Jack recognizes.Â
He laughs a little and then Jack canât help himself. He captures your chin with his thumb and index finger and leans in, steals a kiss from you. Itâs your last kiss before youâre married.
âYou skipped a couple of steps there, brother,â Robby teases Jack as the two of you settle back in your respective positions facing each other, eliciting a soft laugh from the audience.Â
You hold one of Jackâs hands and use the other to wipe at the tears on your face, a mix of yours and Jackâs 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.Â
It makes you laugh when you take it from him, more tears slip down your face. âAlways so prepared.â
âI try.â He smiles at you and wipes away more of his own tears as you do the same before you grab each otherâs hands again, one pair of hands less held than the other as you both hang onto handkerchiefs.Â
You both know thereâs 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 itâs not just that this is your wedding and youâre so in love and finally getting married. Itâs because it almost didnât happen. Because youâre 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. Â
âAre we all ready now?â Robby smiles, asking not just you and Jack but also your guests. It pulls laughs, and excited calls of yes and itâs about time and finally. Itâs perfect, itâs the atmosphere you and Jack wanted. You didnât want stuffy or overly formal. You wanted it to reflect the two of you and Robbyâs question has set the perfect tone.Â
âMore than,â you laugh softly, squeezing Jackâs hands.Â
âMore than,â Jack agrees, beaming at you and laughing a little as he returns your squeeze.Â
âGreat! Well, welcome everybody to what I know will be an emotional but incredibly joyous and fun wedding. For those of you who donât know me, Iâm Robby, or Michael, when Jack is mad at me, and Iâm their favorite third wheel.â Robby gives a self-satisfied smile as he says it, and you, Jack and the audience all laugh. Itâs true.Â
âTheir 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 theyâll 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.â Thereâs more laughter from everyone at that.Â
As much as you and Jack truly are paying attention to what Robby says, your eyes arenât coming off one another. For the most part itâs 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.Â
âGod knows theyâve had too much practice but something that stands out about their love to me is their ability to weather their worst days together. Itâs 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 couldnât get any worse and qualify as one of the worst days of their lives. And I truly mean weathering their worst days together because theyâre always there for each other.â Robby takes a moment to let the words linger and glances down at his notes.Â
âPeople say that relationships and love arenât always 50-50. That sometimes one person is at 10% and so, in the best relationships, the other is at 90%. And thatâs them.â He nods as he says it and thereâs a few murmurs of agreement from the audience.
âThey 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%, theyâre 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.â Robby pauses for a second, has to clear his throat, the emotion clearly starting to get to him. âItâs quite incredible to watch.â
Robby shifts his attention to address you and Jack directly. âI 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,â his voice trembles a little as he says it, âand I wish you nothing but a lifetime of adventure, laughter, peace, joy and love.âÂ
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 Robbyâs attention shifts to you, you mouth âwe love you tooâ and a few of those unshed tears slip down his cheeks. Â
âIâm going to share two moments, my favorite moment that Iâve had with each of you thatâs really kind of about the other one of you and then Iâll move this along, I promise.â 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 youâre about to hear a story youâve never heard before.
âIâll 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.â You laugh softly at that, as does the audience. It sounds like Jack.Â
âSo fast forward two years and weâre walking out of the Pitt together one day as youâre 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 youâd say yes because youâre Jack and you always said yes to working. But you said no.â Robby pulls his mouth together in a grimace and nods at the audience to pull a few laughs.Â
âNo because it was your first anniversary together. And then,â Robby laughs to himself a little and cocks his head for a second, âlike youâre just saying the sky is blue and not about to rock my entire world you said, âalso, Iâm switching to days, itâs better for us.â 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, âI thought you found comfort in the darkness?â 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 âguess I find it somewhere else now.ââ A soft chorus of âawwâ rings through the audience.Â
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 âreallyâ as your eyebrows draw together. Jackâs 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.
âAnd I knew as I walked back into the Pitt, yes to go straight to Dana to tell her,â everyone laughs loudly at that, including you, Jack and Robby, âthat even if you hadnât 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 sheâs it. Sheâs the one. âSheâs my forever,â I believe are the exact words.â
âOh Jack,â 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 itâs overwhelming. Youâre not sure how youâll 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.Â
Robby glances at you with a little conspiratorial smile. âAnd 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. Youâd been out of your coma for just shy of two days so weâd really known each other and had the opportunity to talk for five-ish days or so I wanna say. So weâre talking and you ask me to go to the grocery store for you. I said âsure of course, just make me a list.ââ Robby nods a little as he remembers while he speaks.
âI 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, donât think much of it.â He shrugs, glances at you and then the audience. You already know whatâs coming and you know that you never told Jack. Â
âI get to the store and start shopping and realize two things. First, that the list isnât quite as long as I initially thought because youâd written brand names and specific flavors for things. And second,â he pauses to laugh a little, âevery single thing on that list was one of Jackâs favorite things. Every single thing, I swear to god.â
Robbyâs nodding at Jack, not that Jack sees it. Heâs far too focused on you, asking you a âreallyâ 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.Â
âSo I call you and you answer and said âhey if youâre looking for Jack heâs down getting the dinner delivery he ordered so he might not be able to answer.â And Iâm like âno Iâm looking for you. Iâm at the store and this list is all for Jack. Is there anything you want?â You tell me âNo, I put what matters and what we need on it.ââ Robby glances at you, smiles at the way youâre looking at Jack.  Â
âI press you, âokay but are you sure?â You said âRobby, please. Heâs not eating enough here and itâs not healthy for him. He canât eat big meals right now, he just picks at everything and you and I both know him and know heâs a snacker, a grazer. But he doesnât have any snacks here. So heâs not really eating. Please. The list is what we need. What I need.ââÂ
Jackâs hands squeeze yours again, harder this time as âwhat I needâ 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. Itâs so you and he could almost drown in it, your love for him. âDoll,â itâs 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 wasnât 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.Â
âWe 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 youâre worried about Jack.â Robby shakes his head and lets out a small incredulous laugh. âYouâre noticing Jack not eating enough and that heâs not eating big meals and remembering that heâs a snacker. Youâre still pretty heavily medicated and youâre pulling out brand names and flavors of Jackâs favorite things. Thatâs when I knew if he asked youâd say yes and, selfishly in a way, itâs when I was convinced that you were the one for him and when I knew I wanted him to ask you.â All three of you, and probably close to the whole damn audience, have to take a second to clean up your tears.
âAnd 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 Iâve ever had the privilege of witnessing.â Robbyâs voice wobbles and he pauses for a second, lets out a breath.Â
âThese two have decided to write their own vows, so get your tissues ready, Iâm sure.â After deciding on personal vows you and Jack had decided to end them with five promises to each other. âJack, weâll start with you.â
Jack takes in a deep breath and drops one of your hands so that he can grab his vows from his pocket.Â
He starts with your name, squeezing your hand that heâs still holding. âIâm going to start with some honesty,â he gives you a little smile. âI struggled to write these. Not because I couldnât think of what to say but because thereâs too much to say, thereâs 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.â You start to cry because you know how much he means it and because you get it, feel the exact same way.Â
âDoll, you are easily the biggest overthinker I know,â 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. âAnd 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 youâll never know what it means to me to have that kind of pure acceptance,â Jackâs voice trembles, âand to know that youâve seen every bad part of me, every flaw and imperfection and have overthought it all and that you,â 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 heâs going to have to choke out his next line and pause after it regardless of how much he tries to prepare now. âAnd that you accept it all and choose to love me despite all my flaws and imperfections.â 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.
âYou truly have no idea just how much you save me every day, heal a little piece of me with every smile and kiss and âPeter.â Youâre my comfort,â 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, âmy salvation and my strength. Youâre my home and my world. I told you once that youâre 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.â You dab at your eyes almost continuously with your free hand, Jackâs words searing themselves into your brain and heart, especially with how heâs looking straight into your soul through your eyes as he talks to you.Â
âAnd of all the things I might accomplish in this life,â Jack sniffles and clears his throat so his voice is a little stronger again, âthe only thing I care to be remembered for is being your husband and being lucky enough to love you and be loved by you.â You cover your mouth with your handkerchief at that and stifle your own small sob while you squeeze Jackâs hand, hoping he understands that youâre saying the same is true for you. He knows. He always knows.Â
Jack glances down at his vows again and straight back up to you. âSo 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.â He pauses to smile at you, tilt his head and squeeze your hand to emphasize the last one before he says it. âAnd I promise to love you with all of me through anything and everything life might throw our way.âÂ
Itâs 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. Youâve never felt more loved or moved in your life. Itâs 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. Youâre 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 donât exist.
Itâs 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 youâd given him to hold onto for you this morning. âAnd now you,â he says softly, giving you a supportive nod as the two of you share a look while you take your vows from him.Â
âOh man, this feels so unfair, I can barely see through the tears.â 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 Jackâs eyes. âJack,â you start, âI love you.â You let out a small laugh because itâs such a simple way to open, glance down at your vows. Like Jack youâd memorized them to the best of your ability so you can look him in the eyes. Â
âI swear this next part is written down,â you wave your vows at him and then the audience. âWriting these was much harder than I thought it was going to be,â you tilt your head and give him a look, ânot because I couldnât think of anything to say to you but because what do you tell the person thatâs everything to you? I couldnât figure out how to distill how I feel about you and how much I love you into words, and I still havenât 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.â 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.
âThe thing about you Peter, is that you see me, all of me, to an extent I didnât think was possible. You always use that x-ray vision they pulled you aside to teach you in your last year of med school,â you laugh a little as you say it and Jack lets out a short but proper laugh at your words because theyâre unexpected and of course you would remember that, âto see right through me and know how Iâm feeling and what Iâm 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 weâre together thatâs an hourly occurrence.â You blot at your eyes again quickly and glance at your vows before finding Jackâs eyes again and continuing.
âYou take what you see and you use it. Use it to love me and take care of me and heal me, even if you donât consciously realize it. Iâve 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.â You take in a deep, shuddery breath as you struggle to keep your voice steady. âI am quite sure that has to be love in one of its simplest and purest forms. And thatâs how you love me. I couldnât be luckier.â Your voice is so thick and heavy with your tears you worry that youâre getting to be unintelligible but Jackâs 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.Â
Your gaze intensifies, eyes boring into Jackâs. âYouâre my whole world and my entire heart. My rock and my constant. My biggest supporter and my protector. Youâre everything. You are my everything and everything to me, Jack.â Your voice breaks on his name but you donât clear your throat. You let it be raw and higher pitched as you finish. âPlease never forget that.â Jack shakes his head slightly and squeezes your hand to tell you that he wonât 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. âI 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 youâre struggling to love yourself. And I promise to never stop falling more in love with you.âÂ
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. Heâs 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 otherâs hand again, and you do your best to let it take the place of the hug and kiss youâre desperate to give him. You know you have a whole life to hug and kiss him as you please and that youâre 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, youâre pretty sure he does.
âWell,â Robby says quietly. âI think we all need a moment after those.â 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. âIâll now ask you both to affirm your vows and declare your intent.âÂ
Robby turns to Jack first. âJack, 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?â
âI do.â Jackâs looking at you like youâre the only thing that exists as he says the words clear and strong, not a hint of hesitation to be found anywhere.Â
âAnd do you,â Robbyâs attention turns to you as he says your name, âtake 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?â
âI do.â You beam at Jack as you say it and youâve never exuded such confidence. You say it like itâs the easiest and simplest thing in the world.
âAnd now for the exchange of rings.â Robbyâs voice is a little shaky. He grabs them both out of his breast pocket. âVery beautiful rings at that.â 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.Â
Robby takes in a deep breath. âYour 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 youâve made to each other today, and of your unending and ever growing love for each other.âÂ
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. Jackâs 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.Â
âJack, repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.â
âI give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.â Jackâs eyes grow glassier as more tears form. Â
âLet it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.â
âLet it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.â A few tears slide down Jackâs cheeks, his voice breaking around âalways.â 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.Â
âAnd 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.â
âAnd with this ring,â Jack has to pause for a second to collect himself and clear his throat, âI 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.â Heâs 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.Â
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.Â
Robby holds his palm out for you and you take Jackâs 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.Â
Robby glances at you. âRepeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.â
âI give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.â 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.
âLet it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.â
âLet it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.â You make it just a little further than Jack, the tears slipping into your voice and making it break at âin.âÂ
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. Heâs careful too, dabbing like heâs observed you doing so that he doesnât smear your makeup. You fight the urge his care and attention gives you to cry a little harder.Â
âAnd 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.â
âAnd with this ring, I marry you,â you pause to sniffle, try and steady your voice in vain, âand 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.â 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 itâs on you both watch as Jack closes his hand into a fist and reopens it as he gets used to having a ring.Â
Youâre 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. Youâre both so overwhelmed with love in the moment, tears flow a little harder and you both giggle softly.
âAnd now by the very limited authority vested in me,â 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, âI 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.â As soon as heâs done speaking, Robby moves off the altar to the side so that itâll just be you and Jack in photos, your friends and family cheering and clapping loudly for you, a couple of people whistling.Â
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.Â
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. Thereâs 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. âI love you,â you giggle against Jackâs lips.Â
âI love you too,â Jack chuckles a little.
Your arms wrap around Jackâs 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 otherâs lips for a second before you kiss again and Jack returns you upright just as smoothly as he dipped you. Â
When youâre 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. âFamily and friends, Iâm honored and thrilled to introduce to you for the first time the Abbots!â
Youâre sure you must grin like a love-drunk idiot when Robby calls you the Abbots but you genuinely couldnât stop it if you tried. Youâre truly just that happy. And Jackâs 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.Â
You and Jack walk hand in hand to the small room youâve 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 youâve been told it gets hectic and the bride and groom often donât get to eat much. But more than anything itâs just thirty minutes alone together as husband and wife.Â
Once youâre 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.Â
Your arms slide around Jackâs 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 heâs 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 youâre 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.Â
âI wanted to do this so bad during the ceremony,â you murmur. âJust hug and hold you and be hugged and held by you. I just wanted to be close after everything that we said.âÂ
Jack squeezes you tighter, rocks you both a little. âI did too Doll, believe me.â
The two of you stand there holding each other and relishing in your closeness for what has to be five minutes. Youâre both silent save the occasional soft hum at the right touch. Youâre silent but youâre 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. Itâs hard to believe itâs real. You made it here together and are now standing holding each other as husband and wife.Â
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. âLet me really look at you and your dress now, yeah?â he murmurs as his eyes find yours before you can whine about being pulled away from him.Â
âOnly if I can also really look at you.â You smile and are already releasing him and stepping back for him as you say it. You know heâll let you. He wonât understand why you want to, but heâll let you.Â
âCourse,â 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. âDoll,â he breathes out once heâs in front of you again, âyou are truly stunning. You always are but this, you in your wedding dress, fuck, itâs something else.â 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. âThere really arenât words.â
âThank you,â you murmur, awkward at accepting compliments, even from him. But you donât need to say more, Jack knows. He knows what his words mean to you and how they make you feel. âLet me see you, please.â Jack nods and your eyes rake over his body. He turns for you slowly, lets you take him in. âYou are so unfairly handsome, Jack, I donât know how I got so lucky.â Like with him, your feelings and thoughts when you saw him the first time hit you all over again. âAlways are, but this,â you let out a soft laugh and shake your head slightly, âlike you said, itâs something else. No words.â
A light flush hits Jackâs neck and cheeks. He struggles accepting compliments at times just like you. âThank you.â He doesnât 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.Â
âWanna sit? Have some food?â 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. âHere.â You grab the eyedrops and a tissue, put a couple drops in each eye. âTo help with the redness.â
âYou really thought of everything didnât you?â 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.Â
âMakeup artist,â you admit. âShe was on it.âÂ
âShe was,â Jack murmurs. âEven though you donât need it in the slightest, your makeup does look exceptional.â He leans in for a quick kiss before turning to pull the table the food is on closer to the couch.
âWait! Before we eat, move my engagement ring back!â You hold out both hands.Â
He chuckles a little at your excitement. You could easily move it back yourself but you want him to and itâs adorable. âAlright, Doll.â 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. âPerfect.â
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. âHey, guess what?â You look back up at him.
âWhat?â
You shift a little closer to him and place your hands on his chest. âYouâre my husband now,â you slide your hands up his neck to hold his face, âand Iâm your wife.â
Jackâs eyes darken, jaw tensing and breathing picking up just slightly. His hands wrap over yours where they rest against his face and neck. âMy wife,â he breathes out.Â
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, Jackâs 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. Itâs 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. Â
âJack.â You try to say his name as a warning but it comes out far too breathy to be remotely effective. He doesnât like that youâve pulled away, his lips chasing yours as he makes a noise of discontent. âYou really want our first time as husband and wife to be a quickie in a random room?â
âI meanâŚitâs a nice couch,â he mumbles against your lips.
âJack.â Your hands push at his chest a little so that heâll look at you.Â
âNo, no, I know youâre right, I just.â He groans and rests his forehead against your chest for a second before looking back up at you and helping you sit back upright. âI just want you. Really bad. My wife.â
âI know.â You give him a soft smile and kiss on the cheek. âAnd please donât think I donât want you. I do. Just as badly as you want me.â
âNo, I know, I donât think that,â he assures you. âYouâre 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.âÂ
His words make you shiver. âYeah,â you breathe out and nod, eyes flicking all over his face and down his body before coming back up. âI want to be able to do that to my husband too.âÂ
Jack groans, leans his forehead against yours. âThe anticipation makes it better, right?â
You let out a small laugh. âSure does, Peter.â You give him another quick kiss. âLetâs have some food.â Jack nods and pulls his forehead away.Â
You and Jack both start to eat, still side by side and leaning into each other a little. âOh, whatâs the ring on your right hand?â Jack asks in between bites.Â
âMm,â you hum as you finish chewing and swallowing. âMy something borrowed, which reminds me. Thank you. For doing that for me, arranging it.â You look down at the ring. âI didnât realize how much it meant to do it until I had everything.â You return your eyes to Jackâs and smile at him.Â
âIt 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.â He raises his eyebrows a little and cocks his head just a little, the slightest I told you so smile pulling onto his face.Â
âIâm ignoring that look on purpose,â you tell him before taking a bite and grinning at him. Jack just laughs and shakes his head, takes a bite of his own. âBut the ring is from Dana, obviously. She said itâs been worn by every Evans woman who has gotten married for a hundred and two years and thereâs not been a single divorce,â you explain after you finish your bite.Â
Jackâs eyebrows raise at that and he tilts his head to silently say impressive as he chews. âThen something new you obviously know about which weâre circling back to in a second.â You grab your bouquet from the table. âHeatherâs something old was this locket.â You hand the bouquet to Jack so he can see.Â
âItâs very pretty.â He runs his thumb over the front.Â
âIt is. She got it at an antique store and said hummingbirds are a symbol of resilience and she thought that was fitting for us.â You rest your hand on Jackâs upper arm and squeeze a little. âOpen it.âÂ
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. Youâre intimately familiar with how good his dexterity is. âOh, wow,â Jack murmurs. He doesnât know what he was expecting but not that. âOur first picture together.â
You beam at Jack even though he canât see because heâs still looking at the picture. âShe got it off my phone one night when we were out. Very sneaky,â you laugh. âAnd then apparently the rhyme ends with âa sixpence in your shoe.â Mel wasnât sure if anyone was getting one so she got one and we attached it to my shoe.â You hold it out for Jack to see. âBut about this something new, Jack Abbot.â
âYou skipped something blue.â Jack raises his brows at you slightly as he takes another bite.Â
You shake your head, smirking just a little. âNo, something blue is for you to see later.â
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. âWhat if I want to see it now?â he rasps.Â
âThen youâll have to be patient.â You shrug at him. âSomething new. Jack, itâs beautiful.â You hold up your wrist to admire the bracelet. âItâs so much and it complements my rings perfectly.â You can feel your eyes start to burn a little and you have to look away from the bracelet and Jack so that you donât start crying again and render the eyedrops useless.Â
âYou deserve it,â Jack murmurs, making you shake your head and tilt it back so you donât cry. âItâs about the least you deserve, Doll.â You reach blindly for his thigh and squeeze it as a thank you and way to say all the words you canât at the moment. âAnd letâs talk about my something new.â That gets you to laugh a little and after a big breath youâre able to look at him. âItâs incredible.â Jack holds his wrist out this time, pulling his sleeves up a bit. âI donât think Iâve ever had something this nice or been given such an amazing gift.â He runs a finger along the circular face of the watch.Â
Youâre smiling at him when he looks up at you. Itâs soft and reflects so much love with the extra little squint of your eyes. âYou deserve it. Itâs about the least you deserve, Peter,â you repeat Jackâs 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 canât say. âI love you,â he whispers as he pulls away, smiling softly at you. Â
âI love you too.â You give him another little thigh squeeze.Â
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.Â
Thereâs a knock on the door and you know your time is up. âGuess I have to go share you with everyone again.â You pout at Jack playfully.Â
He chuckles and kisses your out turned lip. âI know how you feel Doll.â 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. âMarriage license time,â Robby sings a little as he walks in holding up the paper.Â
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 itâs going to be hard to choose which ones to get printed and hang.Â
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. Youâd also roped him in to quasi-emceeing for you.Â
He introduces you as you and Jack walk into the reception space. âAlright everybody, for the second ever time, letâs give a warm welcome to the Abbots!â 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.Â
âOkay, so,â Robby starts as dinner begins to be served. âObviously 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.âÂ
âIâm 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 hereâs to the Abbotâs,â Robby raises his glass and everyone follows, âI love you both dearly.â 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.Â
Quite a few people give speeches over the course of dinner, Dana, Heather, your friend, Jackâs 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 otherâs plates. Youâd deliberately gotten different options so you could share, something you frequently do when you eat out.Â
Once youâre 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 everyoneâs attention spans for speeches are worn by this point.Â
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. âAnd now we get to watch them have their first dance as husband and wife.â
âI canât believe this is actually happening,â you whisper to Jack as you start to dance when your song begins playing.Â
âI know,â he murmurs back as he beams at you. âAfter all the planning and waiting for this day to come here we are.â You and Jack are really swaying to the music more than anything. You didnât learn a dance or really practice. It just wasnât your style as a couple.Â
âYou know Iâve been thinking about this moment since you danced with me up on the roof.â Your eyes start to grow a little shiny.Â
Jack smirks a little and flicks his eyebrows up. âWe werenât even engaged then.â
You shake your head. âNo, we werenât. 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.âÂ
âYou wanna know a secret?â Jackâs grinning at you.Â
âAlways.â
âI came about three seconds away from proposing up there on the roof that night,â he admits with a little laugh.Â
Your jaw falls open a little. âReally?â Jack nods at you with an amused smile. âWhy didnât you?â Youâre smiling back at him now that youâve gotten over the initial shock of his unexpected revelation.Â
Jack hums for a second. âI didnât 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. Youâd been shot and almost died and I didnât want it to feel like thatâs why I was proposing. Because of what happened or because I felt like I had to or anything along those lines.â
âI wouldnât have thought that,â you murmur. Jack nods. He knows. He knew then too, but it still worried him and at the end of the day he didnât want to propose on the roof of the hospital. âDid you have the ring with you?â
âNo,â he laughs, ânope, 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.â He pauses for a second. âI was also worried you would get so excited youâd 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.âÂ
âThat would not have been ideal.â Jack spins you at the right point in the music and it and his words make you giggle a bit. âWould have been a hell of a story though.âÂ
âOh, it would have been something,â he laughs. You both smile at each other fondly, glad youâve gotten to a point where you can talk about what happened with some humor and not feel a total ache inside.Â
âI love you,â you whisper to him, âmore than anything.â You stick your lips out and Jack leans down as you continue to dance and gives you the kiss you ask for.Â
âI love you too,â he whispers against your lips, âmore than anything.â He steals another couple of kisses from you before straightening back up as the song starts to end. âIâm going to dip you,â 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. âAlways so smooth,â you laugh.Â
âOnly for you, Doll,â 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.Â
âIâll be right back,â Jack tells you with a quick kiss after a slower song finishes and a fast one starts.Â
âYou better be,â 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.Â
Jack keeps his promise, making his way back to you from behind and pulling you close as he starts dancing with you again. âFast enough?â He yells over the music.Â
âI suppose.â 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. âHot?â
âNot anymore.â Jack smirks at you and pulls you back close to him to dance.Â
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. âMay I have this dance?â He offers you his hand. âDonât even start Jack, the officiant is allowed a dance with the bride, itâs just the rules.â Robby smirks, giving Jack a look. Â
You laugh softly at Robbyâs playful over-formalness. âYou may,â you nod at him, take his hand. âNext one, Peter.â You wink at Jack.
âItâs true Jack, Robbyâs right,â Dana playfully chides him. âPlus I think you owe me a dance.âÂ
âI suppose you did walk me down the aisle.â Jack smiles and steps away from you and Robby before offering his hand to Dana.Â
You and Robby start dancing, really just swaying around the dance floor more than anything. âI had an interesting conversation with your husband while he was getting ready earlier.âÂ
Youâre smiling at Robby the entire time, but your eyes light up and you beam at him when he calls Jack your husband. âMy husband,â you just have to say the words, make a little face of excitement. âAnd what did you and my husband talk about?â Â
Robbyâs quiet for a moment as he thinks of what exactly he wants to say. âI started by telling him that the two of you were idiots for thinking you donât deserve each other and your love, because I know you have the same thoughts as him at times.â Your mouth drops open a little and you scoff playfully. Itâs definitely not what you expected him to say. âAnd then I said some rendition of this. You said heâs 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, itâs 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?âÂ
âHe does,â you affirm quietly as you nod.Â
âYeah,â Robby nods, âhe 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.â Robbyâs giving you a small, knowing smile, eyebrows slightly raised as he nods just a little at you.Â
You have to look away for a moment. âRobby, I,â 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.Â
âItâs okay,â you can hear the smile in Robbyâs voice and you look back at him. âYou donât have to say anything. I just told Jack Iâd give you the same spiel.âÂ
You laugh softly. âWhat was his reaction? It had to involve your therapist.â
Robby laughs properly at that. âYeah, 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.â He rolls his eyes.Â
âSounds like him.â 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.Â
âYouâre really good for him, you know?â 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. âIâve never really had the chance to tell you that. But youâre really really good for him. Youâre what he needed.âÂ
You give Robby a small smile. âYeah, he was what I needed too. What I need.â
âI 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 youâve been in his life.â Robby smiles and tilts his head. âAnd thank you. For loving and helping the people around him too.âÂ
âYouâre family. All of you. And thank you, Michael,â your voice shakes just slightly. âFor everything.âÂ
Robby huffs a laugh and looks away from you for a second. âThat was a very targeted use of Michael meant to make me cry again.â Â
You both laugh as the song ends and move towards the edge of the dance floor. âIt wasnât deliberate,â you whisper as you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. âIt just felt like the right moment.âÂ
âAm I allowed to have my wife back now?âÂ
âOf course,â Robby tells him as you both turn to greet Jack and itâs almost like youâre magnetized the way you both seamlessly move towards each other, your hand sliding to rest on Jackâs 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.Â
âHe gave me the spiel.â You look up at Jack with a gentle smile.Â
âAh,â Jack nods, âgood. You should listen to him.âÂ
âYou both should listen to me!â Robby scoffs playfully. âOnce again, youâre both idiots sometimes.âÂ
âThank you for not putting that in your ceremony opening or your speech.â Jack flicks his eyebrows up and nods at Robby with a fake grimace and ire.Â
Robby rolls his eyes. âJust try, yeah? Thatâs all. Just try to accept you deserve each other and your love, okay?â
You and Jack share a look and exchange soft smiles before turning to Robby. âWe are,â Jack assures him.Â
âPromise,â you add.Â
Robby looks between the two of you before nodding. âAlright. Good.â 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 theyâve known each other forever. âYou guys should get back to dancing with your guests.â
âYou,â you point at Robby, smile growing, âshould come with us!â
He laughs, shakes his head. âMaybe in a bit, Iâm going to take advantage of your open bar and go get a drink, sit for a minute.â
You boo him teasingly. âNo, no, Doll,â Jack starts as Robby turns and starts walking away, âif the old man needs a rest, we have to let him. Donât want him straining himself, do we?â You bite your lip and turn your head into Jackâs 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. âYou just really had to go there, huh?â
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. âI didnât go anywhere but the truth.âÂ
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 doesnât 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.Â
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. âGuess we should go sit and cool down and I should touch my makeup up before that.â
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. âThank you.â You lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing the makeup bag staged under the table.Â
âFor?âÂ
âFor getting my chair and helping me into my seat.â You throw him a smile as you start to pull things out of the bag. âAnd donât say I donât need to thank you for it because thatâs 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 donât take you for granted. And most men donât do things like that anymore, Jack. So it is special to me.âÂ
Jack laughs to himself. âYouâre welcome. I enjoy doing those kinds of little things for you.âÂ
âI know, because youâre the best.â You pull a couple of oil blotting papers out from the pack in your makeup bag. âSh.â You hold your index finger up to Jackâs lips. âJust accept that you are.â You pull your finger away and replace it quickly with your lips.Â
Jack deepens the kiss more than he generally would in public and you let him. Youâre 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 itâs not like youâre fully making out. Jackâs 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.
âYou taste like expensive champagne,â he groans against your lips before pulling away. âI love it.âÂ
You hum at him and Jack says nothing, doesnât 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. Itâs a better look on him though. You only blot a few more places and then pull away, deciding itâs okay if he looks a little sweaty. Just makes him more attractive to you if youâre honest. âI enjoy expensive champagne,â you smirk at him as you shrug, âactually Iâd like more expensive champagne. We should go get some.â
âIâll 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.â He leans in and steals a kiss before you can argue with him.Â
âI look sweaty and shiny.â Your eyes track him as he stands up. Â
Jack stoops and kisses the top of your hair carefully. âGorgeous,â he whispers as he walks away, walking backwards for a few paces to wink at you before turning.Â
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 arenât focused on your face anymore. You and Jack are married. Youâre about to cut the cake at your wedding.Â
Jackâs 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. Heâs not used to it, wearing a ring, and so itâs a constant reminder. Youâre married. Heâs bringing his wife back champagne for you to enjoy together before you cut the cake at your wedding.Â
âOkay, more expensive champagne as requested.â Jack hands you your flute before he sits and sets down his flute and the glass of water. âAnd some water. We should both have some.â He gives you a little no arguing look.Â
âI wasnât 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.â You grab the glass and take a couple sips. âSo thank you. I needed it.â You hold the glass out to him.Â
âCourse, Doll.â 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.Â
You hum as you let the bubbles rest in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. âYou have to admit itâs really fucking good champagne.â
Jack laughs. âI never said it wasnât! I think itâs very good.â He stops speaking but his lips twitch like he wants to say more, eyes glint a little mischievously.Â
You narrow your eyes at him. âWhat?â
âNothing,â he shrugs, âI was just thinking about how I was never a big champagne fan before you.â You raise your eyebrows at him asking that so? as you take another sip. âTasting it on you though⌠changed my opinion. Now I love it.â Â
You cough a little as you finish your sip, not expecting him to say that. âProbably less tasting it on me and more me making us always get expensive real champagne.âÂ
âNo, Iâm quite certain it was tasting it on you.â You give him a look. âIt 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 Iâd had before, yes, but I didnât 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.â
You nod at him, the slight grin youâre wearing telling Jack that while you struggle to believe it, you do believe him. âIâm equal parts wooed and turned on by that little confession, Peter.â
Jack laughs at that, properly, because it was such a you thing to say. âYou areâŚâ he shakes his head and looks around while he tries to find the right word. âYou.â His eyes crinkle and his lips pull up, âyouâre so you sometimes, Doll, and I love it so much. Iâm sure that doesnât make a whole lot of sense but-âÂ
âIt does,â you cut in to reassure him. âI 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.â You give Jack the same loving smile heâs giving you. âA toast.â You raise your champagne flute, Jack following your lead. âTo a long lifetime of expensive champagne together.â
Jack shakes his head at you, still smiling at you like heâs drowning in love. âHere, here,â he murmurs before you clink your glasses and take a sip. âYou done touching up?â
âI am,â you nod. âWe still have some time.â
âI know, come here.â 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. âThatâs better.â 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. âI canât believe itâs almost over.â
âI know,â Jack agrees. His hand squeezes your hip and you look down at him. âThank you.â
You smile at him curiously. âFor what?âÂ
âEverything.â He shrugs, looking into your eyes. âMarrying me. Being my best friend. Making me laugh. Taking care of me. Loving me.â Thereâs 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 thereâs one heâs fighting with himself about saying. When he looks back up at you heâs clearly more emotional. âWaking up,â he whispers so quietly you wouldâve missed it if you werenât looking right at him.Â
âJack-â
âNo,â he shakes his head, clearing his throat. âNo, I donât 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.âÂ
You give him a soft smile, bring your hands to cup his face. âIâll always wake up for you,â you murmur as you look him in the eyes and lean in to give him a series of painfully soft and sweet kisses.Â
âGood.â He smirks at you. âIf you donât Iâll just pinch your ass awake.âÂ
âHa!â you laugh triumphantly. âSo you admit it! You did pinch my ass awake on the day of our third anniversary and wedding.â Jack starts laughing because the way you said it was so you again and he loves you so much and youâre 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. Heâs overwhelmed. âI 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.â He leans in and steals a kiss from you, longer this time.Â
âI love when I bring out the cuteness aggression in you,â you giggle as he pulls away. Jack shakes his head at you and laughs softly. âBut hey,â you grow a little serious again. âThank you too. For everything. Marrying me, being my best friend, making me laugh. Loving me.â Your voice gets a little like Jackâs did and you tilt your head at him a little. âTaking care of me. Never leaving my side. Never letting me feel alone.âÂ
âAlways, Doll.â Jackâs 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.Â
âHere.â You pull your forehead from Jackâs and grab a napkin, dip a little piece in the glass of water. âLet me make sure you donât have any lipstick on you.âÂ
âNot my color?â He smirks.Â
âNot there it isnât.â 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. âAre you trying to have me hard in the cake cutting photos?â
You roll your eyes at him affectionately as you finish wiping off his lips. âIâm sitting on your lap Peter, I can assure you that if I wanted you hard in the cake cutting photos I wouldnât be using my words to achieve that.â 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.Â
âYeah, yeah,â he playfully grumbles as you grab your lipstick and compact to check if you need to touch up from the kisses. âDo you want me to put my jacket back on while we cut the cake for the photos?âÂ
âUp to you,â you shrug at him. âI want you to be happy and look how you want to look in our wedding photos. Itâs not all about what I want.âÂ
âNo, I know, I just didnât know if you had a preference because I donât really care strongly one way or the other,â Jack explains. âI just want you to be happy.â
You tilt your head at him and give him a small smile. âAs long as youâre up there cutting the cake with me Jack, Iâm going to be happy. Jacket or not. All I need is you.â Jack makes a little noise of protest and you laugh softly. âWhy donât you leave it off? We have lots of photos of you with it on and I donât 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, itâs up to you.âÂ
âAlright, Iâll leave it off.â A beat passes and Jack doesnât quite stifle his smirk fast enough so you catch a glimpse of it. âDo you want me to undo one more button for the photos?âÂ
Your heart races a bit just at the thought of him with two buttons undone. âThat would be very slutty of you Peter,â you hum.Â
âSlutty?â Jack barks out a laugh. âAre you saying Iâve looked slutty every time Iâve worn a dress shirt like that?â
âWhy do you think I never want you wearing two undone in public? Iâd have to fight everyone off.â You shrug.
âSo youâre saying Iâm a slut?â 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.
âNo.â 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. âIâm saying youâre my slut,â you pull back and give him a dazzling smile, âDr. Abbot.â
âJesus,â Jack mutters under his breath, shaking his head and looking away from you. âYouâre ending up using your words to achieve it without trying.â You giggle at his reference to your earlier discussion. âDoctor was so on purpose.âÂ
You tug just sharply enough on the curls at the nape of his neck to pull a little sharp breath from him. âYou started it my love, making me think about you with two buttons open. I merely finished it.â You steal a quick kiss from him. âYou know you can call me it now.âÂ
Jack is focusing so intensely on not getting any harder than the semi he currently has that heâs a little too distracted to truly think about your words. His eyebrows raise a little. âCall you what?â
Your eyes flick away from him for a second before returning. You hum softly, the faintest smirk and lean back in close. âAbbot.â
Jack groans low, right from the center of his chest and the sound makes you shiver as you stand up. âNo no no, where do do you think youâre going? You donât get to drop that and run.â
âYes yes yes. Weâre being summoned to cut the cake.â You nod over at where the wedding coordinator is waving you over.Â
âOkay, well Iâm going to need a minute here,â Jack huffs under his breath.Â
âOh?â You feign innocence. âSomething the matter, dear?â Jack looks at you stone faced and shaking his head slightly. âCome on,â you hold your hands out for him. âJust stay behind me until youâre good.âÂ
âAlright, but donât âaccidentallyâ lean back into me and rub your ass all over me.â Jack takes your hands and stands, walks a step behind you just to the side when you begin walking.Â
âI would never, I canât believe youâd accuse me of doing such a thing.â You click your tongue at him.
âHa!â Jack scoffs a laugh. âYou would, multiple times. And Iâm serious, if you do Iâll have no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.â
You tilt your head and he can feel your smirk even if he canât see it. âDonât threaten me with a good time.âÂ
âOh thatâs not a threat Doll,â Jack murmurs, all gravel and lust. He rests a hand on your hip once you arrive in front of the cake and squeezes. âItâs a promise.âÂ
You glance back up at him and the hunger heâs 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.Â
The cutting itself is fairly quick and easy. Jackâs 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 youâre done. Thereâs no smashing of any kind, you know Jack would never and neither would you. Itâs sweet and the love is palpable as your friends and family watch, photographer snapping away.Â
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 youâre finished youâre dragged back onto the dance floor together by Dana and Parker.Â
You and Jack get a little separated but are still pretty close and itâs easy for you to dance your way back over to him. âHey!â You give him a quick kiss to the cheek. âIâm going to the bathroom. Itâll take a second with the dress. Try not to have too much fun without me.â You wink at Jack before turning around and grabbing your friendâs hand for help with your dress.Â
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.Â
âNope!â Heâs caught by Santos and McKay. âSheâll be back soon enough, you can stay out here with us.â Santos raises her eyebrows at him almost as a little challenge and Jack rolls his eyes but lets them pull him back in.Â
Heâs 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.Â
But when your friend appears without you he looks around. He stops dancing without fully realizing it once he spots you. Youâre 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 donât go to move at all, just return to your conversation.Â
You had met them before the wedding since they all flew in a day early, had a nice dinner all together, so itâs not like they were literal strangers at your wedding. But still. You donât 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 theyâre just as important to you as they are to Jack. You want them to know that they can call you and youâll help just like Jack would and that your and Jackâs place is open to them whenever they might need.Â
âYou good?â 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.Â
A couple of songs pass and Jack watches you and a few of those who youâd 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. âCan you play this song?â He shows the DJ his phone.
âYeah,â he nods. âIâll play it next.â
âPerfect, thanks.â Jack smiles to himself as he moves around the dance floor to be close enough to you but far enough away that you donât really see him as you dance.  Â
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.Â
He slips up right behind you, one hand on your waist as his front presses into your back. âHi, Doll,â he murmurs, the cheeky grin heâs wearing clear in his voice. He presses a teasing kiss to your neck.Â
You spin so that youâre chest to chest now, hands going just where they need to so that you can start slightly faster slow dancing. âHi Peter.â You lean up for a quick kiss. âAs Time Goes By. How coincidental.â You arch a brow at him in playful accusation.
âIt felt right,â Jack admits to requesting it, shrugging, âsince I wouldnât sing it for you in Paris.â While other couples are dancing the two of you can feel lots of eyes on you. Itâs clearly a song thatâs playing specifically for you and Jack. He gives you a slightly sly smile and your brows raise in anticipation. âOf all the bookstores in all the towns in all the world, you walked into mine.âÂ
You press your lips together and smile as you hold back a laugh. âI canât decide if that was really bad or really good.â You and Jack share a laugh. âIt was very romantic. This whole thing, requesting the song and sneaking up behind me, because I know that was deliberate too,â you nod your head a little at him as you say it, âand the line.â Your eyes grow a little glassy at the sentiment. âI like to think we were fated too.âÂ
âI know we were,â Jack nods, âI know the world brought you to me on purpose.â His eyes are a little glassy now too.Â
You push your lips out a little and Jack leans down to kiss you. âI love you,â you murmur against his lips.Â
Jack hums a little laugh, lips pulling up into a smile against yours. âI love you too.â
The final hour or so of the wedding goes fast and yet slow. You and Jack both donât want it to end but at the same time youâre a little desperate to finally be alone together for the night. Itâs been a beautiful and perfect long day. Your and Jackâs perfect day.Â
You say goodbye to everyone as they all walk over towards the car you and Jack will be leaving in. Thereâs hugs and a few tears and promises to see each other soon and text and call and send photos from the honeymoon.Â
And then you and Jack are finally in the town car and being driven away.Â
âThat was really the perfect day,â you sigh as you lean into Jack. Youâre 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.
âYes it was.â Jack moves his arm around you and pulls you even closer. âI love you.â
âI love you more.â You tilt your head up as Jack leans down and kisses you.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âDo you want to stop?â you pant softly against Jackâs lips, moaning softly as he squeezes one of your breasts and nibbles at your jaw.Â
âWhy would I ever want to do that?â His lips are back on your neck the second heâs done speaking, kissing and sucking lightly, smiling to himself when you squirm a little from how good it feels.Â
âSo that youâre not hard walking to the elevator.â You barely get âelevatorâ out before Jackâs back to kissing you.Â
âIf you think,â he pauses so that he can kiss you again, âthat Iâm going to be anything,â another kiss and a nip to your bottom lip, âother than painfully fucking hard for you,â another kiss, âuntil Iâve finally come inside of you,â Jack groans as your thumb flicks over his head in just the right spot, âcome inside my fucking wife,â those words steal your breath even harder and Jack moves to suck on that spot on your neck he knows is extra sensitive, âyouâre fucking insane Doll.âÂ
âFuck, okay,â you gasp, as he sucks that spot again, âjust wanted to check.âÂ
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. Jackâs 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.Â
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 doesnât 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.Â
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 youâre staying at for the night. You leave for your honeymoon tomorrow. Youâre so fucking ready to know where youâre going.Â
Youâre both tired and thereâs 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 youâre almost right at the edge of the bed.
âCan I?â 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.Â
âPlease,â 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 itâs something heâll 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.Â
Jackâs 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. Heâs 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 doesnât let himself look up because he knows if he does he wonât 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 heâs met with your eyes on him.Â
His eyes donât stay on yours for long though, dropping down and running over your body, stopping for a second at the blue garter on your thigh.Â
âI know itâs not proper wedding lingerie, except for the something blue. I suppose it is,â you laugh breathlessly.Â
Jack shakes his head slowly. Youâre unreal, far and away the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen. His cock strains against his boxer briefs painfully. âFuck me,â he groans as he palms himself over his pants, desperate for any friction he can get. âYouâre stunning.â 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.
âYour turn.â Your trembling hands come to the buttons at Jackâs 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. Heâs so handsome you can hardly stand it. âYouâre so perfect, Jack.â
You lick your lips to wet your lipstick again and kiss at his collarbones and chest as your nails drag lightly down his stomach. âFuck,â 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.Â
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. âDoll,â Jack husks as you sink to your knees.Â
Once you settle on them your thumbs finally drag Jackâs pants and boxer briefs down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach as he shivers. âPeter,â 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. âSee?â Your breath fans across his skin as you look up at him through your lashes. âIt is your color here.âÂ
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. âFucking christ!â Jack grunts, lets his head tip back and eyes flutter closed to focus on the feeling of you bobbing up and down him.Â
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.Â
Jackâs close. Heâs 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. âUp.âÂ
You pull off him and pout. âJack,â you whine a little. âWanna make you come like this.âÂ
âNext time.â He offers you his hands which you take and stand up. Jack kisses you hard. âThe first place Iâm coming for my wife is inside her,â he murmurs against your lips.Â
âFuck,â you whimper as Jack starts kissing you again.Â
âOn the bed,â Jack instructs as he pulls his lips off yours. âIf you have anything in your hair, take it out so it wonât hurt you.â 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.Â
His lips stay on the thigh itâs on, kissing around it. âItâs very pretty,â he murmurs, lips teasing your skin.Â
âI thought youâd like it,â you pant.
âLove it Doll.â 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.Â
âFuck Jack!â you moan. Itâs such a simple move but the way he keeps his eyes on yours the entire time makes it one of the most erotic things heâs ever done for you.Â
Heâs quick to make his way back up you, grabs the waistband of your underwear and quickly gets them off. You think heâs going to settle with his face in between your thighs but he doesnât. 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. âFucking love your tits,â 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. Â
âJack, please,â you beg, for what youâre not sure. He just feels too good, his hot skin thatâs pressing against yours and his mouth on your breasts.Â
âIâve got you,â he soothes, âIâve always got you Doll.â 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. âYouâre fucking soaked,â he rasps against your lips, fingers still moving down to feel just how wet you really are.Â
âI have been all night,â 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. âFor my husband. Have needed you all night.â
âYeah?â Jack pulls back from you a little. âIâve needed you too.â 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. Jackâs hips grind into you without conscious thought, his cock hard and heavy against you. âSuch a good girl for me,â he coos as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. âLet me taste you.â
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 doesnât stop kissing you as the fingers of his left hand trail down you and make you shiver. Heâs 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. âPlease Jack!â you keen for him. âPlease, need it, need you.â
âOkay, Doll.â Jackâs 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. âJack!â you gasp his name, fingers tugging even harder at the salt and pepper curls you love so much.Â
âYes Doll?â He smirks at you, fingers dragging back out of you before plunging right back in.Â
âYour- oh!â 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. âYour ring, your wedding ring. I can feel it.âÂ
âCan you?â Jack hums at you, âWell how about that?â You whimper at his words, know he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. He kisses you again but it doesnât 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 Jackâs fingers.Â
âJack I need you inside me,â you rush out in a single exhale, still moaning intermittently. âNeed it. Your cock. Not your fingers. Please.â 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. âFirst place Iâm coming for my husband is on his cock.â
Jack stills and growls at your words as he pulls his fingers from you, rolling a bit so that heâs 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 doesnât offer you his fingers this time, bringing them to his own mouth and sucking them clean. âGod!â he groans as he finishes. âYou taste so fucking good. My wife tastes so fucking good.â
âYeah, yeah.â You nod at him, hands slipping between your bodies and grabbing at his cock, trying in vain to guide him inside of you. âFuck me Jack, please. Fuck your wife!â 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. âJack, I need you,â you whine at him.Â
âI know, Doll, I know. I need you too.â 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. âFuck,â 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.Â
âOh, Jackâ you moan softly, âmore, please more.âÂ
Jack groans as he leans down and kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip and pulling it taut as you flutter around him. âShit, youâre so fucking perfect,â he pants against your lips. âMy perfect wife.â 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.Â
âMy husband.â Your lips graze his as you breathe the words out. You roll your hips in tandem with Jack so that heâs 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. âFuck Jack!â 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 doesnât 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.  Â
As much as he doesnât want to Jack pulls apart so you both can breathe. âWhat are you?â He asks through heaving breaths, eyes reflecting how on fire he is for you, practically pinning you to the bed. âTell me what you are.âÂ
âYour- fuck Jack!â He changes his rhythm on you just slightly and it has you stuttering. âYour, your wife.â Tears of pleasure start to burn behind your eyes.
âGood girl,â 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 canât get deep enough, canât feel enough of you, canât be close enough to you. âThatâs fucking right you are. My wife. All fucking mine.âÂ
âSay it for me,â you plead with Jack, tears of pleasure finally dripping down the sides of your face. âTell me what you are.âÂ
Jack laughs softly against your lips as he pulls your legs up around his waist to change the angle. âYour husband,â he rasps at your ear. âIâm your husband.â Â
You whine as he says it, trail off into a breathy moan of his name. âJack!â 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 Jackâs throat. âIâm so close. So close baby, please!â Itâs not often you call him baby, and something about the word always makes him short circuit a bit.Â
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 youâre married. Because it feels like your first time all over again in a way.Â
âJust like that, yes! Donât stop!â you moan, voice high-pitched and breathy.
Jackâs just as desperate for your orgasm as you are, breath heavy and hot against your lips. âCome for me Doll, come for me.â Jackâs voice is strained with his desperation, hips driving him into you over and over while his fingers circle your clit. âCome on my cock, come on your husbandâs cock. Make me come.âÂ
âI will, I will,â 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.
âLook at me,â Jack pants, voice cracking on the last word. âLook at me while you come for your husband.â You force your eyes open and Jackâs staring down at you intensely. âBe my good little wife and come for me.â
His command and the way heâs looking at you like he needs you so desperately heâd do anything for you, like youâre 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.
âJack!â 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 Jackâs back so hard you might have broken skin in a few places but he doesnât care, it just shoves him closer to the edge. âOh fuck Jack, please!â you moan once words return, again unsure of what youâre begging him for.
âShit! So fucking tightâ! 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. âMy wifeâs so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me.â He pulls his hand away from your clit before you hit painful overstimulation. âFuck, Doll, Iâm gonna come, pussyâs squeezing me so tight, gonna come for you, fill you up, and youâll be so good for me and take it all.â He starts to babble and his hips start to falter, a clear sign heâs right at the edge.Â
âCome for me Jack,â 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. Youâre looking at Jack much the same as he looked at you, like you love him so much it hurts sometimes, like youâd 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 heâs gone. âCome for your wife.â
Jack comes with the most erotic, carnal groan of your name that youâve 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 heâs composed just for you. His hips still but you roll yours up against him and clench around him deliberately. âFucking shit, Doll! Fuck!â Jack groans, voice and neck and face strained as you prolong his orgasm, somehow pull a bit more cum from him.Â
âFeels so good when you come in me,â 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.Â
âOh fuck!â Jack grunts, a shiver running up his spine hard as an aftershock hits him. âFuck, Doll, youâre so fucking good.â He collapses on top of you carefully.Â
You tremble under him a little, arms and legs wrapping around him and holding him to you tight. âYouâre not so bad yourself, Dr. Abbot.â Itâs almost a little slurred as you come back down from your orgasm.
Another shiver races up Jackâs spine at doctor. âNever had a title kink before you.â His lips brush against your chest as he speaks before nuzzling against you. Itâs not the first time heâs 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.Â
After a while Jack nuzzles into your chest one last time before pulling his head up. You open your eyes knowing heâll be looking down at you. Heâs smiling when he comes into focus. âHowâs my wife?â
âIâm pretty fucking great,â you murmur, blissed out smile on your face. âFeeling very, very well and thoroughly fucked by my husband. A little sleepy.â You bring your hand up and run your fingers through Jackâs curls, push back a few that sweat has stuck to his forehead. âHowâs my husband?â
Jack chuckles at you. Youâre so adorable when youâre all fucked out like this. âOh, Iâm pretty fucking great too, Doll.â He leans down and kisses you. âFeeling very, very lucky to call you my wife. And Iâm with you on the sleepy.âÂ
You already know what heâs going to say based on the look on his face. âNo!â you whine, wrap your arms and legs around him tight. âLetâs just stay right here. Itâll be fine this one time, we can just curl up like this and fall asleep.â
Jack laughs and shakes his head at you. âIâm not sure nowâs the time to risk it, baby. You donât want to start our honeymoon with a UTI.â He takes another kiss. âAnd we both know youâll be upset with yourself in the morning if you donât take all your makeup off. Plus I should really wipe the lipstick off.âÂ
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 youâre 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.Â
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.Â
You join him when youâre done, washing your hands as he washes his face. You make a face of consideration as he pats his face dry. âI could just leave it for one night, Iâm tired.â
Jack shakes his head at you and you know heâs right, youâre just not in the mood. Itâs 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. âUp.âÂ
You debate fighting him because you know whatâs about to happen. But you also know that Jack loves this part and itâs 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. âProbably going to have to scrub pretty good,â you tell him, âshe used the good setting spray.âÂ
Jack nods as he starts to wipe your face. âVery good setting spray,â he notes absentmindedly as he works. He does have to use more pressure than normal. âTell me if I start hurting you.âÂ
âI will, but you wonât.â You give him a sleepy smile and Jackâs heart aches with how cute you are.Â
Once heâs gotten everything off your face heâs weary as he eyes your lashes. âAre these the lashes designed to stay on or? How do I get them off?â
âYouâre so cute,â you giggle at him, beaming at him because theyâre such Jack questions. Heâs always curious, especially when it comes to you and things he can do to take care of you.Â
âWhat?â he drags the word out. âI donât want to accidentally rip off all your eyelashes!â
âI know, youâre just the cutest, wanting to know. Caring enough to want to know.â You push your lips out and he gives you the quick kiss youâre seeking. âThese ones arenât designed to stay on, no. Thereâs 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.â
âCan do, Doll.â Jack nods. He does and goes to take them off but hesitates. âOkay, maybe you should at least do one. So I can see.âÂ
Even with your eyes closed you smirk. âSee one, do one, teach one?â Jack huffs at you and you know heâs rolling his eyes. âYou have to admit that was pretty good.â You slowly peel one off.Â
âIt was,â Jack agrees with fake begrudging. He loves it. Loves how you listen and really take in what he says whether itâs when heâs directly speaking to you or if you happen to be watching him from just within earshot at work. âOkay. Please tell me if you feel me pulling your actual lashes.âÂ
âWere you this scared when you first did sutures on someone?âÂ
âDoll.â
âYes, yes Iâll tell you,â you reassure him.
âOkay.â Jack grabs the other lash and pulls it off without issue, like you knew he would.Â
âSee? Nothing to it.â You squint at him to avoid getting the makeup remover in your eyes. âWeâll make you a makeup artist yet, Peter.â 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. âTo answer your question, no, I wasnât because you spend time practicing on fake skin before you go to a real human.â
You hum at him and slip off the counter. Itâs going to be easier and quicker for you to wash your face and brush your teeth. âThank you. For taking my makeup off and learning about eyelashes for me. I love you.â You wrap your arms around the middle of him and rest your head on his chest.Â
âAlways, Doll.â Jack bows his head and leans a little to press his lips to the top of your head. âAnd I love you too.âÂ
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 youâre done Jack turns around and after a second you do too.Â
Your stomach drops a little. âOh my god Jack!â 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.
âWhat?â He spins quickly, brows furrowed and lips pulled down, concern all over his face.Â
âYour back! Thatâs what!â You gesture with your finger and he spins for you again. âJack, it has to hurt. Why didnât you say anything?â
He turns back to look at you. He doesnât like your expression, the sadness in your eyes and your frown and the way your brows are furrowed so close together. Youâre upset and Jack can tell your mind is starting to swirl. âHey, hey hey. I promise you I didnât even notice. I promise. I wouldnât have even known if you hadnât said anything.â
âBut Jack, itâs bad. I did a good number to you. Theyâre welts, not just scratches.â Your frown deepens.Â
He steps closer to you and cups your face with his hands. âDoll, I promise you it felt so fucking good when you were making them in the moment but they havenât bothered me at all since.âÂ
âYou promise?â 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.
âI promise.â He nods. His eyes drop to your neck and chest, hands letting go of your face. âHave you really looked in the mirror yet Doll?â
âKind of?â Your brows are still drawn together but Jackâs relieved itâs in confusion this time and that your upset has faded.Â
âYou should. Because I did a good number on your neck and chest too,â Jack grimaces a little. âAnd it feels much worse than some scratches now that Iâm really looking at them.â
You turn and look in the mirror. âOh,â you breathe. Jackâs head starts to spin now. But then a smile grows on your face. âI love this.â You run your fingertips over some of them.Â
âWhat?â Jack gives a small incredulous laugh.Â
You turn around to look at him and see the way heâs still spinning out a little like you were. âJack, 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.â
âTheyâll darken and be worse tomorrow.â He still eyes you a little wearily.Â
You meet his eyes in the mirror, can see heâs still spinning out a little like you were. âGood. I hope they get darker the day after that.â
âYeah?â Itâs the same as you asking if he promised. He knows you wouldnât lie and can tell youâre not but he just needs to hear it again.Â
âYeah.â You nod with a small smile. âVery fucking yeah.â
That makes him crack a smile, yours widening in turn, his mind slowing. You turn back to face him. âAre they going to be all on display for the honeymoon?â You press yourself up against him.Â
Jack laughs. Youâre trying to get a hint as to where youâre going on your honeymoon, hoping heâll answer and itâll give you insight as to whether youâll be spending a lot of time with your chest not covered by a shirt in a swimsuit.Â
He gives you a self-satisfied grin and you start pouting before he even says anything. âThatâs for me to know and you to find out babygirl.â
You roll your eyes at him affectionately but it turns into a big yawn that has you covering your mouth. Jack laughs softly. âCome on sleepy girl, lets get into bed.â He fights back his own yawn while following you as you walk back to bed, flicking the light off.Â
You climb in under the covers while Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes his prosthetic off. Once itâs 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. âHi handsome.â You smile up at Jack and kiss up his chest and neck to his lips.Â
âHi beautiful,â Jack murmurs against your lips. âMy beautiful wife. Today was pretty perfect.â Jack takes another couple of kisses from you before pulling away and looking back at you. He swallows thickly. âA little surreal. Weâre married.â Heâs not dwelling, heâs 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.Â
âSure was. My handsome husband.â You giggle against Jackâs lips. âBut itâs real. Weâre married.â You look at Jack and smile as he smiles back at you.Â
Your smiles and crinkles in the corners of your eyes say everything to each other. Thank you, youâre perfect, youâre my best friend and soulmate and the love of my life, youâre 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.Â
Your eyelids get heavy fast as Jackâs 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. Thereâs so much you want to say to him even now at the end of your wedding day when it feels like youâve already said it all to each other. But thereâs no way youâll get anything coherent out. So you kiss Jack one more time and settle for the words you hope convey it all.
âI love you, Peter.âÂ
Jack hums a little laugh to himself because youâre adorable and precious and beautiful and his. His wife.
âI love you more, Doll.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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 donât think this is truly the end for them. Certainly I have a whole list of other ideas that Iâd 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!âĽď¸
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. âĽď¸
Want more Jack? Find my masterlist here!
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Op Iâm no expert but I do think youâve written a whole novel length fic about these two and I absolutely fucking love it. Youâve spoiled me. How am I meant to go back to typical fanfic after this???
It may sound like Iâm joking but you, honest to god, have some real talent. Keep up the good work, wherever it takes you.
18.6k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: mentions of blood, mentions of bones breaking, mentions of guns/shootings/gunshot wounds, mentions and discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation, CPR, mentions/discussions of jack's injury and losing his foot, anxiety about partner's safety, angst, Jack's traumatized, everyone's traumatized honestly, probably incorrect description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, PIV sex, mentions of morphine and alcohol, age gap referenced in passing once kind of, reader loves Paris and the Louvre, reader's favorite flowers are daffodils, I had this idea and started drafting before we knew Jack was a widow so in this world he has never been married, no use of y/n or related.
Summary: The aftermath of you being shot and collapsing in the trauma room and a new reality.
AN: I'm a certified yapper like our man, so I apologize for how long this is.
You drop at just the right point in your swaying that you fall backwards, head first. You hit the floor back of your skull first with a sickening crack.Â
Everyone in the room knows what that was the sound of - your skull cracking.
âFuck me!â âFucking shit!â âHoly fuck!â âOh god!â âWas that her fucking skull?â Verbalized reactions fill the air from Robby, Dana, Heather, Mel and Santos, respectively. Jack is silent. Heâs not even sure heâs breathing. Heâs frozen as he looks at you, both struggling to process what has happened and already understanding what has happened at once, hearing dulled as he focuses on you.Â
Things have now gone from really fucking bad to somehow a lot fucking worse in a matter of seconds.
A head injury was the last thing you needed. And it was preventable. He should have prevented it. He should have stayed with you, told Robby to handle the code on his own, kept holding you, actually looked you over before letting you go but he didnât.Â
âSomebody get a fucking gurney in here!â Dana yells out the door.Â
âCollins, you handle this. Mohan, youâre with me!â Robby orders. Once your neck is secured in a c-collar and youâre on a gurney youâre rushed into trauma two, the team swarming you just like they do any other unfortunate soul who ends up here.Â
Jack suddenly finds himself again, hearing no longer dampened and follows your gurney into trauma two. âMannitol-â
âGet out Jack!â Robby shouts at him amid the chaos of getting you hooked up to monitors and IVs going. âYou canât be in here!â
âAnd yet here I fucking am.â Jack almost snarls back at him as he takes a place on the other side of you.Â
âDana.â Robby shoots her a look and she steps back and away from you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them to the floor.Â
âJack,â she says softly to him, rests a hand on his bicep and squeezes gently. âLetâs step out.â
He shrugs her hand off. âNo. No fucking way. SomebodyâŚâ He trails off as he looks down at you, freezing again. More blood pours from your mouth, and now your nose. He looks down and sure enough, itâs dripping out of your ear too, not unsurprising given the head trauma, but still. The image is seared in his brain. Â
âFuck!â Robby yells. âSheâs in DIC.â He takes a look at your vitals. To say theyâre abysmal would be a gross understatement. âOkay, massive transfusion protocol now, people! I wanna do two to one to one with how much blood sheâs lost. Set up for a central line.âÂ
âPush etomidate and roc!â Mohan yells into the chaos. â7.0 ET please.â
âJack, you have to move, okay? They need access to her.â Dana grabs Jackâs arm again and is able to pull him to the side. âOnce sheâs intubated you can sit by her, okay?âÂ
He gives a single nod in response, sits automatically when Dana pushes the stool into the back of his knees. It doesnât take the team long to get you intubated and Dana helps him move so that he sits at the top of your head.Â
Everything and everyone else fades away as he looks down at your face, your beautiful blood smeared face. He leans in towards you a little. He has so much he wants to say and yet he canât get a word out.Â
âWeâre taking her up to surgery, Jack.â Robby is suddenly leaning down next to him. âWe have to stop the internal bleeding before we can image her head.âÂ
âSheâs in DIC. She has a subdural from the fall, Iâm sure. Fractured skull. We have to address it.â Jack almost mumbles it as he watches them put the bed rails up and start to move you.Â
âI know,â Robby tells him gently, âbut if the major source of bleeding isnât stopped, you and I both know that the skull fracture and subdural arenât going to matter.â
Jack just nods and stands, follows your gurney in silence up to the OR floor. He hates it but he has to take one last look at you before turning to go into a locker room to grab a fresh pair of scrubs. He changes fast, finds Garcia and Shamsi in the scrub room.Â
âWhat are you doing Jack?â Garcia asks him, sharing a look with Shamsi. âYouâre not coming in the OR.â
âYes I am.â He ignores her, grabs a pack and starts to scrub. The door opens again and Jack doesnât need to turn to know itâs Robby.Â
âYou guys go.â Robby nods at Garcia and Shamsi. âJack, come on. Letâs go to the gallery or waiting room.â
âFuck that!â Jack yells as they walk in. Heâs still scrubbing furiously. âIâm not going to watch them hack her-â
âYou and I both know theyâre not going to âhack herâ and that thereâs nobody else youâd rather have operating on her. You need to let them do their work.â Robby stops next to the sink Jack is scrubbing at. âThat is the best thing you can do for her right now. Let them work.â
Jack keeps scrubbing for a minute, jaw clenched tight. But then he stops. He knows Robby is right. Knows that scrubbing in and being in the OR isnât going to fix you. It isnât going to let him make up for not noticing you were shot earlier, before you were already half dead on the floor with a broken fucking skull he could have prevented.Â
The combination of emotions is crushing. He throws the soap at one of the doors in the scrub room and yells a âfuck!â Thereâs a moment of silence and then a whispered âfuck,â that his voice crack on half way through.Â
âCome on.â Robby picks up the soap and throws it away, throws a towel at Jack for his hands. âLetâs get some air.âÂ
âIâm going to obs.â Jack tells him. Robby tries to speak. âNo. If I donât get to be in the OR with her I at least get to fucking watch over her from obs.â
âNo, Jack! Iâm not letting you fucking torture yourself by watching this. She wouldnât want that. She wouldnât want you seeing her like this-â
âYou donât fucking know her!â Jack seethes, getting up in Robbyâs face, chests touching. âSo stop fucking acting like you do.â
A tense silence passes, a staring match before Robby holds his hands up in defeat and looks away. âAlright. Iâm sorry.âÂ
âI have to watch her die, Robby. I have to have been there for her. Been there with her. I am not letting her go alone.â Jack shakes his head, eyes red rimmed and glassy but more serious than Robby has ever seen him before.Â
âI know.â Robby opens the door of the observation suite for him. âIf something happens and they get close to calling it you can go be with your girl, okay?â
âNo.â Jack huffs, treading water more and more to try and stay above the flood of emotions. âNo itâs not fucking okay! None of this is fucking okay! Sheâs not okay! Iâm not okay!â Jack takes in a shuddery breath and turns his back on Robby. âNone of this is okay,â he whispers, voice thick with emotion and tears that can no longer be held back.Â
Robby lets Jack have a minute to try and pull himself together. He knows that right now is not the time to have some sort of heart to heart with Jack. Instead he puts the intercom on so that they can hear whatâs happening in the OR but the OR canât hear them.Â
Itâs not good but itâs not bad, youâre not dead. Thereâs no conversation between the two men, just Jack up almost pressed into the glass to watch while Robby observes him more than the surgery.
âSo,â Robby says casually after a couple of minutes. âPeter?â
Jack huffs, shaking his head and coming to sit next to Robby. âDonât ask.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âI really like this little routine, you know?â You smile at Jack as he peruses the shelves, coffee in one hand and your hand in the other. Youâre back at the bookstore where you met, off in the back shelves where itâs quieter, fewer people. Youâre alone in the aisle.Â
âComing here?â
âMhmm.â You nod at him. âIt was a really good idea.âÂ
Somewhere between dates number three and four Jack had suggested you guys go back to the bookstore once a week. Make it a thing. Get coffee, pick out books together. Just walk around. How could you ever say no?
âI have one every now and then.â He smiles at you.Â
You point to a book, say the title. âThat looks interesting.âÂ
Jack looks at the book. Itâs on the bottom shelf. You didnât ask for him to bend down and get it for you but he will anyway. And you knew when you said it that he would. Heâs just a gentleman like that. And so he does. Sets his coffee on the shelf and bends down to get it for you.Â
âWhy is it that every book you want is always on the bottom shelf?â He feigns a huff.
âBecause I like making you bend down so that I can check out your ass.â
He freezes for a second. It was so not the answer he was expecting. Heâs not sure he was expecting an answer. But then you come out with that. Always keeping him on his toes.Â
He grabs the book and stands back up, smirking as he hands it to you. His fingers find the belt loops of your jeans and pull you close to him, lips brushing against yours. âYou like my ass?âÂ
You giggle against his lips and kiss him. âI do.âÂ
âYouâre terrible, woman.â He gives you another kiss.Â
âMore like your terrible woman.â You can feel his jaw clench at that and he holds you a little tighter. Oh he liked that. A lot. It makes you smirk.Â
âDamn right you are.â One last kiss and then you break apart.
âI think Iâm falling in love with you, Peter.â
He cocks his head at the name. âPeter? Should I be concerned you canât keep your men straight?â He doesnât mean it, nor does any anxiety roll through him. He knows you, knows it was deliberate, and knows youâre about to give him some ridiculous explanation.Â
âRabbit,â you grin. âPeter Rabbit. Abbot. Jack Abbot always makes me want to call you Jack rabbit. Ergo, Peter.â You run the back of your second knuckle on your index finger over his shirt. âInspired by the book.â You nod and look to the side. He follows your eyes to the display you look over at where, sure enough, a copy of Peter Rabbit sits.
He groans and makes a face. âReally?â He grimaces. But you both know itâs fake. His eyes are too sparkly and the ghost of a smile is too present on his face. Itâs so ridiculous. If anyone else dared to call him that he would hate it and they would know it. Â
âReally, Peter. Better get used to it.â You wink and start walking down another aisle.Â
âI think Iâve already fallen in love with you, Doll.â Jack whispers to himself. âYouâre not allowed to go anywhere on me.âÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You wake with a start, your body jerking for a second before pain rips through your stomach and head. Itâs bright. So so bright. Your eyes instinctively close and you pull your head back, trying to get away from the tube that feels like itâs down your throat but it follows. You start panicking.Â
It filters back in. What happened. Passing out in the trauma room. Jackâs face. The pain. The bullet hole youâd felt on your skin.
âHoney?â A voice you canât place calls out your name. A womanâs voice. âItâs okay.â You know sheâs trying to be reassuring but at the moment itâs not. Thereâs only one voice you want to hear and itâs not hers and you panic more when you donât hear his because where is he? Did something happen to him? Maybe heâs here and you just canât hear him. One way to find out.Â
Your eyes blink back open to an unfamiliar face above you. After you adjust to the light you quickly look around as much as you can without moving too much.Â
Jack isnât here.Â
The woman above you smiles down at you. âIâm Dana. Jack just stepped out to shower and I said Iâd stay with you. Heâs going to kill me for convincing him to go and you waking up while he wasnât here. It was his nightmare. Heâs on his way. Knowing him heâs liable to just have a towel wrapped around him and soap in his hair because god knows if he wasnât finished showering he wasnât going to finish when he heard youâre awake.âÂ
You blink a few times, start to calm. Dana. She has a calming presence. Jack told you about her. You trust her. âGood, thatâs good. Heâs going to be here any second. And Iâm going to get your doctor and see what we can do about getting this tube out of your throat, yeah?âÂ
You can hear Jack before you see him. Hear him running down the hall towards you. Heâs panting when he runs into your room, looks at you, your vitals, Dana and then back to you. âYouâre awake.â
All you can really do is look at him with wide eyes. Heâs over by you in a second, taking Danaâs place as she goes to find your doctor. One of his hands finds yours, squeezes reassuringly. âIâm here. God Iâm so sorry I wasnât when you woke up, I didnât want to go but they convinced me and-â
You squeeze his hand and then let go, make a motion like writing. âYou want to write? Hopefully you can be extubated soon, you might be breathing over the vent already, I can look.â
You squeeze his hand again and it focuses him back on you. âShit. Yes, umâŚâ He feels all the pockets on his scrub pants until he finds the little notebook and pen. He gives you the pen and holds the book for you.Â
Scared.
A piece of his heart shatters when he reads the word.Â
âI know Doll, I know. Itâs okay.â He strokes your hair gently. âIâm right here, okay? Iâm not going anywhere. I love you.â Jackâs eyes bore into yours and in the moment youâre so grateful for his need for direct eye contact. Itâs reassuring in a way you canât describe. Even if he hadnât said anything. If he had just looked at you like he is now it would have been enough to calm your fears. âIâm not going to let anything happen to you, okay?â
âI heard sheâs awake?â Your eyes leave Jackâs and look over at the man who entered, but Jackâs eyes never leave you.Â
âYeah, she is. This is Robby, sweetheart.â You blink slowly.Â
Itâs a lot. Everything is a lot and thereâs a tube in your throat and more people walk in, Dana again and your doctor, a nurse. Youâre overwhelmed. You just want it to be you and Jack and you want to be at home cuddled in bed together, both of you perfectly fine. You donât want this. It makes you kind of dizzy. And your inability to express yourself makes it all that much more difficult.
You focus on Jackâs eyes, try to block everything else out. Focus on his touch. His hand holding yours, the other stroking your hair. Thereâs a faint buzz of the others talking together and you know itâs about you but you remain centered on Jack. âThatâs right, Doll,â he murmurs, voice low, just between the two of you. âJust focus on me. Iâm right here. Youâre okay. Weâre okay.âÂ
âSheâs breathing over.â Robby says quietly. âWe can pull it.â
Jack raises his eyebrows at you and nods his head a little. âThatâs good. Weâre going to get the tube out, okay? Then youâll be able to talk.âÂ
Your eyes widen a bit and you move your hand towards the notebook again, point at the word.Â
Scared.Â
âI know. I know itâs all scary, and I know thinking about having the tube out is scary. But youâre safe, okay? If you need it back in then we will put it back in okay?â He squeezes your hand. You give the smallest nod.Â
Jack explains what will happen to you and then they do it. It hurts and is uncomfortable and you panic for a minute after itâs out because youâre coughing and it feels like you canât breathe. Jack puts an oxygen mask to your face. âBreathe, baby. Just breathe. Youâre just coughing, itâs okay. Itâll be better in a minute. I promise.âÂ
And just like he promises it does get better. âHow about we switch this,â he takes the oxygen mask from your face and hands it to Dana while taking the nasal cannula from her, âwith this.â He gets the cannula adjusted under your nose and over your ears and then smiles at you.Â
You still havenât spoken. You canât find words. You donât know what to say.Â
Robby hands Jack a cup of water with a straw silently before he, Dana, your doctor and the other nurse slip out.Â
âHere, Iâm sure your throat is dry.â Jack holds the straw for you. âSmall sips.â
You take a few before pulling back a little. âThank you.â Youâre quite hoarse and make a face at the sound of your voice but Jack. Jack beams. It makes you smile, makes everything start to melt away. Youâre here and awake and Jack is here and everything is okay. âI love you too.âÂ
You press your lips out a little and it hits him. He can kiss you now and he does, soft but lingering. He never wants to pull away.Â
âHow long was I out?ââ
âSince surgery?â Jack glances down at his watch. âSixteen hours and thirty seven minutes. Give or take ten seconds.â
You smile. Itâs a little weak which shoots a bit of a pang through him, but itâs okay because youâre smiling at him. âNot that you were counting.â
He laughs and rolls his eyes at you, eyes watery. âIâm really fucking glad youâre okay.âÂ
You get a little teary. âIâm really glad youâre here. I was really fucking scared Jack.â You let out a breath and a few tears.Â
âThere is nowhere else Iâd rather be than by your side.â He leans back in, kisses you again, kisses all the tears away. âThere is nowhere else I will be, okay?âÂ
You nod a little. You want to ask him what happened, what your injuries are but you canât bring yourself to. You donât want to know. Not now.Â
Jack doesnât volunteer anything. He figures that youâll ask when youâre ready. He knows what itâs like to have it shoved in your face when youâre scared and drugged out on morphine and other medications and overwhelmed and not in a mental place to process it.Â
You canât have been awake for more than thirty or forty minutes but youâre already so tired again. Jack can tell.
âSleepy?âÂ
âA little.â You pause. Then, a whispered admission. âKind of scared to go back to sleep.â
Jackâs heart squeezes. âThatâs understandable,â he nods. He knows the answer is no but he asks anyway. âCan I do anything?â
âHold me.â Your words are out before he finishes his questions. His eyebrows raise. He wasnât expecting that.Â
You can see him thinking. Thinking about how to say no. His face is pained and he tilts it. You know heâs afraid to hurt you. âPlease.â He bites his bottom lip. âI need this Jack,â you whisper. âYou need this.âÂ
âIf I hurt you at all you have to tell me, okay? If anything feels like itâs tearing or pulling or ripping, you have to tell me immediately.â He gives you a serious look, fear blazing in his eyes.
âI promise.â
He nods. âOkay.â It takes a while for him to help shift you over a bit and move all the wires and lines but eventually heâs in bed with you, holding you.Â
âThanks Peter.â Itâs completely sleep garbled but so precious and he has to laugh because even with all thatâs happened youâre still calling him that name. Â
âYouâre welcome, Doll.â
Once heâs sure youâre asleep Jack sobs as quietly as he can as he holds you. Lets himself process the emotions that he has tried to keep himself walled off from since you went down in the trauma room. He doesnât want you to see, doesnât want you to have to deal with him right now when you need to focus on yourself and recovering. He doesnât want you to feel guilty, because he knows you and he knows you already feel bad about all of this. Like itâs your fault.Â
Jack doesnât know it but you wake when you feel him start to tremble. You hear and feel every sob. A little piece of you dies inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack leans against one of the windows in his apartment, stares out into the dark city and alternates watching the rain fall under the light of the street lamps and tracking drops that slide down the window. The bedroom is dark, only illuminated by the light of the city that pours in. Heâs half dressed, shirtless, a pair of flannel pajama pants. The window is cold against his arm but he likes it. It reminds him in the moment that he can still feel.Â
You watch him from the bathroom doorway. Youâve been together seven and a bit months now.
Youâre struck by how beautiful he looks in the backlighting. Struck by how sad and conflicted he looks.Â
You walk over to him quietly, but making your footsteps just heavy enough so that you donât startle him when you wrap your arms around him from behind, rest the side of your head on the smooth skin of his back. Always so warm, your Jack, even now in the chill of the rainy night.Â
He leans back into you for just a second, just long enough to acknowledge that he knows youâre there, appreciates it.Â
Neither of you say anything for a few minutes before his voice interrupts the patter of the raindrops hitting the window.
âIâm sorry.â
Your brows furrow. âFor what?â
âBeing like this,â he shrugs. âItâs been so long. It shouldnât still affect me like this.â
âWell first, should is a stupid word. Nothing should or shouldnât be. Things just are. And itâs okay for them to be as they are. Itâs okay for this to be as it is.â You lift your head from his back and gently pull at his torso a bit to get him to turn and look at you. He tries to avoid that eye contact he normally needs but you donât let him. âSecond, you have nothing to apologize for. And third, I donât know Jack, Iâd almost be more concerned if the anniversary of the day you lost a piece of yourself, literally, and woke up alone and terrified in a hospital bed ever stopped affecting you.â
As difficult as it is to hear, he likes that you just say it, say what happened. You donât shy away from it, donât avoid talking about it or speak about it without actually saying it. You never have. Youâve always just accepted it as part of him. He takes in a deep breath and then grabs your hand, leads you over to bed with him and waits for you to get in.Â
But you give him a look, a slight raise of your eyebrows and nod. He sits on the edge like you wordlessly asked. You kneel before him and it makes his heart pound, blood rush towards his groin even though he knows this isnât going there. Itâs just instinctual.Â
Jack watches you with glassy eyes as you push his pant leg up and remove his prosthetic for him, set it aside. You donât have to ask if itâs hurting, of course it is. Itâs the anniversary of losing his foot. Even when thereâs no real reason for it to be causing him pain it is anyway. You know it. He knows you know it.Â
You open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out the balm he has, get a little bit and warm it between your hands before placing them there. You glance up at him. You always do. Always make sure itâs okay. You know how hard it can be for him to have you touching there sometimes if heâs too in his head. He just barely narrows his eyes before letting them go back to being wide and round as he watches. An unspoken please.Â
You start massaging gently and he takes another big breath in and holds it for a moment before letting it out and leaning into your hands slightly. âMirror?â
He knows youâre asking if the pain is bad enough for him to want to do mirror therapy. He shakes his head. âNo. Itâs not that bad.â He gives you a small smile, cups your face with a hand. âEspecially not now. You make it better. You always make it better, make everything better.âÂ
A slow smile spreads over your face. You work on him a little more before his hands are on yours and pulling you towards him a little. He slides into bed and you follow.Â
You lay on your sides looking at each other. âYou wanna talk about it?â
âNot right now, no.â He swallows hard, looks like heâs waiting for you to be upset. âIs that okay?â
âCourse it is. Iâm never going to force you to talk about it with me.â You already have talked about it. You know everything, every detail he can remember and was told about what happened. About his hospital stay at Landstuhl, transfer to Walter-Reed. How depressed he got, the survivorâs guilt, the wishing he had just died instead.
But he knows what you mean. You donât have to talk about it now, about his feelings, what heâs carrying in his chest and mind at the moment. You lean in and kiss him. âWe can whenever. If and when youâre ready. Or you can talk to your therapist. It doesnât have to be me.â
The way he looks at you makes your stomach flip. Like youâre the most important thing in his world, like you hung the moon and stars for him, like heâs amazed by you. Like youâre helping to heal him.
He reaches out to cup your face again, runs a thumb over your cheek. âI want you.â
You smile at him, soft and small, befitting of the moment. âYou have me. Youâll always have me. No matter what.â
He gives you a look that acknowledges your words. âYou know what I mean.â His hand starts to wander down to the hem of his shirt you wear. âI need to turn that part of my brain off. Get lost in you.â
âGod, what a tough ask,â you click your tongue, voice teasing and full of feigned exasperation. âSuch a real hardship for me.â
He laughs a little. âIâll make it up to you.âÂ
âOh no Dr. Abbot,â you move closer to him and push at his chest so he rolls on his back, straddle his hips and bring your chest to his, lean in to kiss him but stop short, just let your lips move against his, âthis is all about you.â
Jack groans from somewhere deep in his chest. âYou know what doctor does to me,â he murmurs before he kisses you hard, possessively, holding the back of your head with one hand so you canât move away, not that youâd ever want to.Â
âIndeed I do, sir.â Another groan from him and a smirk from you as you sit up and push the covers back, pull his pajama pants and boxer briefs down all at once.Â
Jack swears you spend hours lavishing him in attention, kissing every inch of him, every scar. Even that one.Â
By the time you guide him inside of you youâre the only thing on his mind. You ride him slow, just fast enough to not be teasing, at the rhythm and pace youâve learned he loves, let him watch as he slides in and out of you because you know how much he loves it.Â
You lean back at one point, rest your hands on both his thighs and something about the move and the way youâre not afraid to get close to the missing part of him heals him and makes him lose it.Â
After, you lay on his chest, absentmindedly draw random shapes on his skin while he runs a hand up and down your back. âThis part always feels just as good but in a different way,â you murmur.Â
âCuddling releases oxytocin. Oxytocin makes you feel happy, helps you heal, reduces stress, bonds you to the one youâre snuggling with. Itâs called the love hormone.â Jack always makes you laugh when he does that, explains something medically, biologically. You like him sharing his knowledge, little pieces of his job with you, and you like that heâs not condescending about it, just tells you it like youâre a student.
You laugh a little. âThat tracks then.â
You sit in a comfortable silence for a bit. Jack thinks about everything youâve done for him tonight, over the past seven months, how you feel laying here on his chest. A surge of oxytocin hits him and heâs overwhelmed by it, how much he loves you, how much you do for him, care for him.
âI donât deserve you.â He says it quietly, almost like he doesnât mean to speak the thought out loud.
You stop tracing shapes, furrow your brows and lift yourself up to look down at him sternly, eyes burning with love. âIâm not even gracing that absolute bullshit with a reply tonight Peter.â You kiss him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four days pass. Things are simultaneously getting better and increasingly harder.Â
You meet everyone, the entire ED, you swear, everyone Jack has ever talked about. Theyâre all lovely and genuine. You hit it off with them all despite the circumstances. Part of you worries though, that they only like you because they pity you and because youâre in the hospital and what else can they do. Jack reassures you that youâre one of them now, youâre Pitt family, that even when they didnât know you or about you and had never met you, you already were.
Jack helps you shower. Really Jack showers you. Does it all for you. Itâs one of those most intimate things youâve experienced with him. Him taking care of you like this, when you canât take care of yourself. He takes his time washing your hair and body gently, like youâll break if he touches you just a little too hard. He makes sure your stitches and central line stay dry. Makes sure you donât lean your head back too far and aggravate your skull fracture.Â
Physically youâre doing okay. Improving. Maybe not as fast as everyone, Jack especially, would like. But youâre not getting worse.Â
Mentally, however, things are devolving. Rapidly.Â
Once the initial shock and happiness at being alive wore off youâre left with reality.Â
A nurse from the floor comes in to take vitals like they do a couple of times a day. Jack steps out to go grab a drink from the vending machine while you and the nurse chat a little. You ask her if you can move into the chair, go sit by the window. She says of course, unhooks you from some monitors and helps you move over. She takes your dinner and sets it on the table in front of you. You thank her and wait for Jack to come back.
Dusk is falling over the city. Itâs easier to sit and look outside when itâs not so bright. You keep the lighting in your room low to help with the headaches youâre still fighting. You suppose a broken skull will do that to you.
You havenât felt well all day, have slept more than usual. Youâre sure itâs just depression from being here and all the changes and mostly, probably, seeing what all of this already has done and continues to do to Jack, physically and mentally. Your stomach turns at the thought and you shiver despite your cheeks burning. Youâre so uncomfortable and thereâs no end in sight and you donât want to keep doing this to Jack, keep asking him to be here and sleep here. The logical and rational part of your brain knows that youâre not asking him to do anything. Heâs doing it because he wants to, because he loves you.Â
âYou need to eat,â Jack reminds you as he walks back in the room.Â
âIâm not hungry,â you murmur, continue to look out the window.Â
âI know, Doll, but youâve gotta eat to keep your strength up.â Jack says softly as he pulls up a chair to sit across from you. You nod a little at him but donât move to start eating. âWhatâs wrong?â he finally whispers.Â
It takes a moment but eventually you shrug. You donât want to burden him with it.Â
âTalk to me. Please. Even if just a little.âÂ
âI donât know⌠Iâm just tired, I think.âÂ
He tilts his head at you, eyes appraising and clinically evaluating you. Something is off, something has been off, heâs just struggling to figure out what.Â
âDonât look at me like that, please,â you whisper.Â
He furrows his brows. âLike what?â
âLike Iâm a patient who needs to be evaluated.âÂ
âI canât help it. It helps reassure me that youâre okay.â He lets out a bit of a breath. âIâm worried about you right now. Is everything okay? Do you feel okay?â
You take in a big breath of air and fight back the wince before letting it out. âIâm just⌠I donât know Jack. Iâm sad. Iâm fucking sad. All the time.â
Ah. Depression.Â
He knows it intimately and chastises himself mentally a bit for not realizing it sooner, not recognizing it. Not anticipating it from minute one. He gives you a moment to see if you want to say more.Â
âI⌠I feel sorry for myself, yes, but itâs more than that. I see what itâs doing to you, the pain itâs causing, Iâm causing you. Physically, having to sleep here. I can practically see your back and hip hurting, Jack. I can see the overcompensation when you walk. I know you cried. I was awake. And I didnât want to make it a thing and pressure you into talking to me. But I see how scared and on edge you are, all the time. Because of me-â
âNo.â He doesnât mean to interrupt but he has to right there. âNot because of you. This is not your fault. None of this is. This isnât because of you, itâs because of what happened to you.â
You shake your head. âNo, Jack, itâs me. It is me. I feel like Iâm sucking the fucking life out of you. Dealing with me is exhausting. I canât keep asking you to do this, be here and take care of me. Itâs not fair.â You sniffle and wipe some tears you didnât know fell with the back of your hand. âI mean, Jesus, Jack, Iâm exhausted and all I have to do is sit in bed all day. I hate it.â The tears fall a little faster and he gives you space to let it all out. Your emotional brain takes his silence as some sort of tacit and silent agreement. That you are hurting him, that it is exhausting him, that you are sucking the life out of him.Â
The rational part of your brain is right there but youâre too exhausted to listen to it, to fight your emotional brain on it. So it all consumes you.Â
âI sit here and sometimes I just wish it would stop, wish it would be over, for both of us. Wish I had never even made it out of the OR, fuck out of the courthouse. You could be properly grieving already and working towards mo-â
âWhat the fuck?â It falls out of his mouth before he can even stop it. âAre you for fucking real?â He knows this reaction is wrong, that he should be validating your feelings. He knows far too well what itâs like to be depressed in a hospital bed wishing that you had died instead. But itâs too much for him because he already lived so intimately with the possibility of that reality. Of you dying. And so to have it brought up and brought up by you. All rational thought and ability to control himself disappears. âProperly grieving? You think Iâd be properly grieving? Jesus fucking Christ, Robby would have had to beat me to the fucking roof or theyâd be burying us together!â
You shake your head, tears falling harder. âI donât want that, I would never want you to do that. Iâd want you to take care of yourself! Iâd want you to live for me. For us. Find-â
âNo.â He shakes his head, runs both of his hands over his face, heel of his palms pressing into his eyes for a moment. âNo. I canât fucking-â He has to swallow hard through the intense nausea that threatens to make him dry heave. Just thinking about this, let alone living it. He knows this is not his finest moment, not a good reaction, that itâs a really really fucking bad one, but he canât think about it right now, about an alternate reality where you died, where he was anywhere other than right next to your side in this moment. Itâs too much. And so he reverts back a bit, starts to completely emotionally shut down. Youâve never seen him like this before. âI canât fucking talk about this right now.âÂ
A knock on the door interrupts you and you both look up and over at a smiling Robby. âHey! Look whoâs awake! How are you feeling sleepy? Youâve been asleep every time Iâve come to visit today.â He starts making his way closer.Â
âWe can talk about this more later,â Jack mutters at you under his breath. His tone is a little sharper and more brusque than he means or even realizes.Â
But with your emotions where they are already it feels a little like heâs pulled a piece of your heart away. You wonder if this is it. If heâs finally had enough of all of this. Of you.Â
He didnât sign up for this. There havenât been any vows of sickness and health.Â
The adrenaline runs icy through your fingers and toes and sits like a rock in the back of your throat, hugging tightly around your stomach so much that your incision burns and itches. It gets hard to breathe. Itâs panic, you tell yourself. You nod silently, fidget with your fingers and whisper the smallest âokay.â
Youâre thankful for the low lighting and the cover it gives you and your tears. âSorry about that,â you force a small laugh at Robby. âJust one of those days I guess.â You force a yawn this time. âHonestly Iâm actually a little sleepy again,â you admit sheepishly. âI think I might get back in bed.âÂ
Thereâs a pause as Robby waits for Jack to react. But Jack says nothing, and the look on his face tells Robby heâs a million miles away. You getting up is what brings Jack back to himself somewhat and heâs up and hovering behind you to make sure you donât fall in an instant.Â
âUm, well.â Robby runs a hand through his hair and over his beard. âJack, if you wanted weâre pretty backlogged down there, we could use someone for even just a few hours to help out. I just wanted to offer. Weâll be fine if you donât.â Robbyâs eyes flick between the two of you. âThought it might be a good way to help transition back to full shifts eventually.â He coughs awkwardly.Â
Jack looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, like heâll do whatever you say as opposed to what he actually wants. Despite looking at you itâs like he doesnât consciously take in your face at the moment, how hurt you look, how small, the tears lining your eyes, how scared you look, how anxious, how questioning.Â
âUp to you.â You give him a strained smile. âIâm just going to sleep, so itâs not like youâre going to miss much here. Robby is right, might be a good way to help transition.â
Jack nods. âOkay. Okay, yeah.â
âFuck, thank you so much,â Robby sighs in relief. âItâs pretty bad honestly.â He looks at you with a soft smile. âSleep well and Iâll keep an eye on him for you.âÂ
You give him a forced smile back and nod, waiting for Jack to come say goodbye before following Robby out the door. But Jack is so shut down and on autopilot he doesnât even give you a kiss or say anything other than an absent, âsleep well,â before he follows Robby out of the room. The sound of the door closing behind him may as well be the sound of your heart shattering.
Hours pass.Â
Hours you do not in fact spend sleeping but instead wide awake feeling like youâve got the flu. Everything hurts, you shake, youâre sweaty because youâre so hot but you feel so cold. You just feel so weak. Youâre so miserable youâre not even aware of the way breathing takes more effort and seems less effective, how much it hurts. Hours enough for you to miss Jack and wish he was here and want to call down and beg him to please come back up. But not quite enough hours for the next vitals check.
The hours are quick for Jack. Work helps him. It keeps his mind busy. The more and more he comes back to himself fully and opens back up with clear eyes the more desperate he is to get up to you and apologize. He feels awful about actually deciding to come down here. How could he leave you? He knows he didnât react well. It just caught him so off guard and he reverted back to a previous version of himself. All he can do is hope youâll forgive him, but he knows you well enough to know that youâll understand and be able to put yourself in his shoes and forgive him and you guys can talk.Â
He volunteers to take one last ambulance coming in. He goes outside to wait for it, to get some fresh air. To be out of the hospital if only for a moment.
Mel runs through the automatic door, head on a swivel to find him. She starts running to him when she sees him. âDr. Abbot!âÂ
Jack turns his head, thinks Melâs voice is off, but he guesses itâs been a bit since heâs heard it down here. But when he sees her face, the way sheâs running towards him, his heart speeds up and he shakes his head a little as she approaches him. Melâs eyes are wide, just the slightest bit wet. Â
âDr. Abbot,â Mel breathes. âSheâs crashing. Robby went up to see her and she crashed.â
âWhat?â Itâs whispered. Jackâs whole world stops again. He doesnât even wait for an answer, is sprinting inside and screaming to hold the elevator because he knows itâll be faster than he can take all the flights up to your room. He tries to hold onto hope. Mel had said crashing not coding.
This would fucking happen. This would fucking happen. He leaves you and then you crash. The realizations hit him when he gets in the elevator and presses the door closed button over and over. That the last thing you said to him was that small, barely audible âokay.â That your last interaction was an almost fight in a way, was him upset when you were telling him what was on your mind when thatâs what he has been begging you to do. That he walked out of your room without saying goodbye, without giving you a kiss, without telling you he loved you.
Sleep well.
That could be the last fucking thing he ever said to you. Sleep well. He pictures your face when he looked at you that last time, near tears, scared, small, anxious, questioning. Probably questioning whether he was going to come back or whether he loved you or whether he still wanted to be with you after so clearly hitting a nerve with him. Especially on top of all the guilt you were already feeling before that conversation. The guilt you were telling him about when he shut down.Â
The world already gave him a second chance with you and he fucked it all up in a minute. Somewhere deep in his bones he knows âsleep wellâ will be the last thing he ever said to you, that your last interaction together will be a quasi-argument. Because if youâre crashing at this point, this far out from surgery, something bad is happening. Differential diagnoses flip through his mind. Pulmonary embolism, having somehow reopened one of your internal wounds and bleeding out, sepsis, delayed collapsed lung, drug reaction, the list goes on and on. None of them are good. All of them would require you to fight hard to pull through.Â
And with fucking âsleep wellâ as the last thing he said to you after he practically jumped in your shit you probably think you have nothing left to fight for.Â
Youâre vaguely aware of Robby coming into your room and talking to you even though you canât make out any words at first. But then you become acutely aware of him screaming about you crashing and somebody call Jack.Â
Jack.Â
Robby says something about intubation but you get a hand up, cling to the fabric on the arm of that blue sweatshirt he always wears. âWait,â you choke out, wondering when it got so hard to breathe and how youâre just noticing. âJack,â you force out in a wheeze, âwant to talk,â you look up at Robby with terrified eyes heâs seen hundreds of times in patients who think theyâre about to die, only yours have a slight look of determination. âPlease.âÂ
He hesitates for just a second. âOkay,â he nods, looking down at you. âOkay. But only if heâs here within the next two minutes. Iâm counting.â He grabs an oxygen mask and holds it over your mouth and nose. Your eyes say âthank youâ in the most heartbreaking of ways. You both know heâll be there with one minute and fifty six or seven seconds to spare.Â
The elevator door opens on your floor and Jackâs sprinting out of it to your room, praying that maybe youâll still be alive when he gets there. He could talk to you, tell you heâs sorry and he loves you and please fight. Heâs panting when he runs into your room, looks at you, your vitals, and then Robby. âWhy the fuck isnât she intubated yet?!â
âShe wanted to be able to say something to you,â Robby tells him as he pushes drugs, barks out orders and gets ready to intubate you. âSheâs totally fucking septic Jack, out of fucking nowhere,â he calls back over his shoulder. âShe must have thrown a septic PE.â Robby pulls the oxygen mask away from your face.
Jack looks back at you as he moves closer. You lick your lips and rub them together a little, trying to get them wet and unstuck from each other. You look terrified but try to offer him a brave smile anyway. âI love you,â you manage to mouth before everything is consumed by black and quiet.
Where everything goes black and quiet for you, Jackâs senses are overwhelmed by the look on your face, the way your eyes shut, the way Robbyâs hands so gently turn your head back so he can intubate you and seconds later by the high pitched whine coming from your patient monitor announcing youâve flatlined and Robby yelling for someone to start compressions.Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heâs not exactly looking for it when he spots it as he walks down a street to pick up the take out you ordered on his way home. But itâs there and it makes him think of you. Itâs almost perfect. Almost.Â
He slips inside, gets in a conversation with the store owner. They can customize it for him. He thinks youâll love that, the idea that nobody has the same engagement ring as you. The owner says heâll get him some sketches. Jack puts down a deposit. You text asking if heâs okay.Â
He says a quick goodbye to the owner and that heâll be back and runs to get the food and back to you. Heâs known for a while now that he wants to ask, wants to marry you. You just get him in a way he canât describe and knows heâll never find again.Â
That night in bed he lays awake spooning you and thinking about how to propose. You wouldnât want something too big and flashy. But he doesnât think youâd hate it being in public necessarily. God, what if you say no? What if youâre not ready or itâs too fast or heâs too old, too broken?Â
No. He knows you donât think heâs too old or broken at all. He knows youâll say yes, knows youâll cry. But how to do it. Where to do it.Â
The bookstore with the ring in the book feels like too much, a little too on the nose. You wouldnât hate it by any means but it doesnât feel right.Â
He thinks about a conversation you had in the travel section at the bookstore.Â
âI love travelling.â You say it as you look over the shelves. âEspecially internationally.â
âYeah?â
âMhmmm,â you hum. âWe should go somewhere.â You hand him a book on Paris. âI love Paris. Have you been?â
Jack shakes his head, starts thumbing through the book. âCanât say that I have.â
âI would love to show you around. Itâs just so pretty. The Eiffel Tower sparkles and they light up all the buildings at night and I swear almost every building looks so beautifully historic. And the Louvre. I love the Louvre. I donât even really know why, I just do. I like the inverted pyramids by the entrance and I like how you just get lost in there.â Youâre flipping through your own book, this one about France in general. âWe could do a France tour. Start in Nice or somewhere and work our way up.â You look up at him, and when he looks up from his book at you heâs surprised to see nerves. âIf you would want to, of course. Obviously. Thereâs no pressure. I know youâd have to take time off from work and you love work and it would waste a lot of time off, probably depending on how long we went for. If we did. So itâs okay. I could go by myself or with a friend if I got desperate enough.â You give a breathy, anxious laugh and fiddle with the book.Â
Jack gives you a little smile and puts the book back where it belongs. âIt might shock you to hear this but I have maxed out the amount of annual leave time off I can accrue. I donate everything I have leftover at the end of the year. Iâve donated all of it for a couple of years now because I canât accrue it anymore.â
âOh, well,â you clear your throat and it would almost be funny and adorable if he didnât hate seeing you in distress. âThatâs very nice of you. Youâre a very good man Peter.â
âI want to go with you.â Your lips twitch up and eyebrows raise. âI want us to do that.â
âYeah?â You beam at him and itâs straight sunshine. Youâre too good for him, he swears.Â
âYeah,â he nods, returns your smile, kisses you quickly. âRobby might try to kiss you like that for getting me to go. Heâs always on me about taking a vacation.âÂ
Yes. In Paris. That would be perfect. You havenât started planning the trip because life has gotten busy for both of you, but he mentions it enough to make sure you know he hasnât forgotten, you talk about when youâll start planning it some nights but often fall asleep mid conversation, exhausted from your day.Â
In front of the inverted pyramids at the Louvre. He can hire a photographer and they wonât even look suspicious. Just like someone taking photos of the Louvre.Â
He starts planning it, the France trip. Doesnât tell you. Reaches out to your boss who he has met to make sure you can get the time off. Heâll surprise you with it soon, he tells himself. Heâll tell you soon now that he has the ring hidden away in a box in a closet that you canât reach easily.Â
Soon. He knows he canât keep putting it off, can just hear Dana and Robby in his ear if they knew, telling him to grow a pair and do it, that tomorrow isnât promised, that he should do it here at the hospital so they can finally fucking meet you. That, while they donât know you, Dana would give him a sharp look then, they know youâll love it.Â
Youâll be at the courthouse tomorrow. Itâs not too far from his place. He could surprise you and pick you up, take you out somewhere nice. He has the day off too so he could go get the book you handed him, put the tickets and copy of the itinerary heâs planned so far in it.Â
He smiles to himself as he imagines the shock on your face, the way youâll struggle for words and repeat a bunch of one syllable ones for thirty seconds before the ability to form real sentences comes back to you. Yeah, thatâll work.Â
Tomorrow.Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Itâs a perfect day. Not too hot and not too cold. Like that Miss Congeniality bullshit that you made him watch and he secretly and surprisingly enjoyed.
Itâs your perfect day.Â
Jack thinks thatâs real fucking ironic.Â
Sleep well.Â
Jack was right.
Those were in fact the last words he ever spoke to you.Â
While you were conscious anyway. Itâs all he can think about as he sits here in his dress blues at your fucking funeral. He couldnât bring himself to buy a plain navy suit for the occasion.Â
No, that day he had said a lot more words to your unconscious self up by your head as Robby and the team tried and succeeded at stabilizing you enough to get you to the OR. And he had said a lot more words when they let him in the OR so that he could hold your hand and talk to you for just a bit longer before they called it. Somehow in the moment he had managed to block out Garcia standing on the other side across from him with her hand in your chest, manually beating your heart to give him more time with you.Â
And then he had said a lot more words to your dead body.
He must have sat in that stupid operating room with you for hours just holding you once they had closed your chest and sat the OR bed up a bit for him. He thinks he must have cycled through every stage of grief with you in his arms.Â
Denial. All he could do for a while was mumble to himself that this couldnât be happening. This couldnât be real. You werenât really dead. This is some twisted fucking joke youâre trying to play. To see if you could get him to cry. You can stop playing now, Doll, you got me to cry. Okay so not an elaborate joke. Well, youâd wake up in his arms any second now, shock everyone, the whole medical community with your recovery. Because this simply could not be fucking happening. Â
Anger. He yelled at you to wake up and not do this to him, to think about how unfair and selfish you were being, how fucking dare you. How dare you leave him here alone. How dare you for talking about him properly grieving. Does it look like heâs properly fucking grieving to you? And he knew, he fucking knew you were about to say moving on, that he could be working towards moving on as if heâs ever going to fucking move on, fuck you for that. He was supposed to propose and you ruined it. You left him How. Fucking. Dare. You.
Bargaining. He negotiated with himself. He should have looked you over before stepping away from you, should have taken you right into an exam room and checked every inch of you for injury before leaving you. If he could go back he would. He would do it all differently. He wouldnât let you out of the house, would have insisted you skip work that day. Heâs not a particularly religious man but heâs praying, bargaining with a God heâs not sure he believes in to bring you back to him. Take his other foot, take his hands, take his ability to be a doctor, take anything and everything thatâs enough to bring you back.Â
Depression. Crushing and all consuming. The reality that this was happening. A sadness so deep in his soul and causing so much physical pain in his heart that for one glimmer of a second he thought maybe he was suffering from broken heart syndrome, that maybe if he could keep himself worked up and sobbing it would kill him. A sadness so consuming heâd never pull himself out of it. There would never be enough tears shed or enough therapy or enough anything to make any of it better.Â
Acceptance. Eventually it washed over him. You were dead in his arms. He was holding your lifeless body. This was his new reality. One without you in it.
But mostly he just sat there and cried over you. Cried for you. Buried his face in your neck at times to muffle the screaming sobs that made him shake. Rocked you and held the side of your face against his when his sobs became so deep they were soundless.
For a while he thought Robby and Dana were going to have to drag him out of there, drag you out of his arms. But at some point he just broke in a different way. Became some sort of numb. Resigned. So he forced himself to leave.
The only thing he could think to do at the end as he laid you back down was to try and make them better. Those two words.Â
Brushing some hair back from your face and running his thumb over your jaw he had told you that he loves you and that he always will. He whispered for you to rest now, gave you one last unreciprocated kiss, and then murmured âsleep well.â
He had to damn near drag himself out of the OR after that. Robby knew it. Dana knew it. They were both right there waiting for him. He had needed to get the fuck out of the hospital and to somewhere he could just send himself into oblivion because he had no fucking idea how to deal with the pain, with the loss of you.Â
Danaâs hand on his arm grounded him a little. Enough that he heard Robby say quietly, âletâs get you home.âÂ
Home.Â
Jack had realized in that moment that he didnât have a home. You were his home. Your heartbeat. The one that was now gone. That simply no longer existed. That had been thrown away by the universe like it meant nothing when it meant everything to him.Â
Yes, he realized he had an apartment, he had somewhere to go. But that was the apartment that he was supposed to have shared with you. The apartment with all of his things, all of your things, still in boxes. You had been planning on spending the weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You had been planning on making it your home. Together. And then you got shot.
And now, Jack had realized, there was no more together. There was simply an apartment full of boxes of shit and furniture haphazardly placed just to get it in.Â
He had had to laugh about it, it was so fucked up. He had barely even realized that he, Dana, and Robby had made it outside somehow, through a side door so that he didnât have to walk through the entire Pitt. And so out there on the sidewalk in the sun - because of course it couldnât have been night, he couldnât have had one thing to give him comfort - heâd broken down in a fit of laughter for a moment that quickly devolved into sobs.Â
Big wracking ones that required Robby to hold him up until he had let Jack slide down the side wall onto the ground where the sobs came so hard they were silent. It hadnât been just you he was weeping for at that point. It had been for you and for himself and for the future you should have had together. For the apartment whose lease would be broken and the trip to Paris he had planned to surprise you with that would never be gone on. For the engagement ring that would never grace your finger. For everything that could have been. For everything that already was.
Heâd stopped crying at some point. Dana had gotten her car and driven him and Robby to Robbyâs place. Everything since then had more or less blurred together.Â
Schedules had been changed so that Dana and Robby worked opposite shifts so that one of them could always be with him. Always watching him. Acutely aware what was likely to happen if they didnât.
You had no family so everything had been left to Jack, which meant it really had been left to Dana because Jack was barely functioning. Funeral planning. Burial or cremation. Dealing with all of your things.
Unsure of your preferences Dana had picked burial, found a cemetery, bought a plot, gotten it all arranged. Unbeknownst to Dana the one thing Jack had managed to do during all of this was purchase the burial plot next to yours. Only time would tell how long that space next to you would remain empty. Not long if Jack had it his way.
And so here they all were. At the cemetery. On your perfect day.
The funeral was to be held graveside and then back to somewhere for the celebration of life, Dana told him where at one point but he doesnât remember. Somewhere in his mind he notes that it feels like the entire damn department is here and he canât help but wonder who the fuck is staffing it right now. As if it matters. As if heâll ever bring himself back to that hospital.Â
Jackâs completely zoned out, unaware of whatâs being said, if anything is being said. Your casket is right there. With you in it. He wants to climb inside with you and let them bury you both with him alive. He wants to let your grave smother him to death. He realizes it already is in its own way. So then he might as well be with you, right? No. Youâd specifically told him you wouldnât want that. You said youâd want him to take care of himself and live for you, for the two of you. But he doesnât fucking want to. He just wants to be with you.
He tracks your casket as it lowers six feet down. He wants to dive in after you. After a moment Dana nudges him. Right. Itâs time. Time for him to throw a flower and some dirt on the top of your grave.Â
He forces himself to stand, takes the two daffodils from Dana and approaches your grave. One for him and one for you. Theyâre your favorite. He stops for a second and just stares down at the wooden box that houses you. Some sort of broken and raw moan slips out before he can stop it, a whimper just a second long, just enough to prove to himself that heâs alive and youâre not standing next to him and there to comfort him and make it all better. He canât cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all of these people.Â
He brings a shaky hand up and reaches under his overly pressed shirt until he finds the chain, pulls his dog tags up and over his head, wraps them around the stems of the two daffodils. His chin trembles as he tosses them on top of your casket before following with a little dirt. He thought about tossing the ring he bought you in too, but instead he wears it on a different chain around his neck for now.Â
The symbolic burial of himself with you through his dog tags doesnât escape anyoneâs notice and if anyone present wasnât crying already they were now. Robby and Dana share a heavy tear blurred look with each other. He still canât be alone.Â
Jack just stares down. Canât bring himself to move. To go sit back down. So the funeral ends with him standing there, looking down at you.Â
Robby and Dana give him a few minutes. As he senses people leave he lets the tears slide down his face silently but copiously. His shirt is darkened by his tears quickly. Eventually Robby clears his throat and steps up behind him.Â
âJack?â Robby says his name softly at first. Jack doesnât respond. âJack, come on.â Itâs a bit louder this time, but still nothing. Robby grabs his shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, is much louder now. âJack!âÂ
âWhat? What happened?â Jackâs head snaps up, the rest of his body following and pushing him out of the chair in seconds. His neck twinges from the awkward angle as his two fingers curl over your wrist automatically, finding your pulse as his vision clears and the patient monitor showing your vitals becomes readable.
All your vitals are normal. Stable.
Your eyes remain closed. Comatose.Â
âNothing,â Robby says quietly, squeezing his shoulder again. âYou fell asleep. It didnât look comfortable. Youâre going to fuck your neck if youâre not careful.â
âJesus fucking christ,â Jack pants, the sheer amount of adrenaline spreading through his system so fast making him shake. He closes his eyes as he tries to bring his heart rate and breathing back to normal. He takes a second to focus and itâs there, under his two fingers thumping along in time with the reading on the patient monitor. Your heartbeat.Â
âFuck.â Jack brings his free hand up and uses it to wipe away the tears itching his face. His chest is wet, shirt undoubtedly darkened by his tears.Â
âAnother one?â Robby gives him a knowing look. âFuneral again?âÂ
Jack just nods. Itâs not the first nightmare Robby has woken him from in the last three days. Itâs not the first time Robby has woken him up from that nightmare.Â
âYou talked to your therapist recently?â Robby asks as he sits in the other chair near your bed.Â
âI donât have fucking time for the psych-bullshit right now, Robby.â Jack huffs as he sits back in his chair, stretching out his neck. âAnd I donât need therapy. I need her to wake the fuck up and come back to me.â He leans forward to kiss your hand, gives it a squeeze and holds his breath that youâll squeeze back. You donât. âItâs been five days Robby. Five fucking days.â
Robby nods slowly. âI know. Her body has been through a lot. Sepsis on top of a gunshot and skull fracture is a lot and brain bleed is a lot. And she had a PE, and they had to crack her chest, Jack.â You got lucky and didnât need surgery to fix the brain bleed. And nobody had wanted to do a thoracotomy on you, not while you were septic, but with your other injuries they had to be careful with blood thinners and the thoracotomy quickly became the only real option. The last ditch option. âAll of that is a lot. She needs time. And itâs not bad news. Sheâs been extubated. Thatâs a big thing, you know that.âÂ
âI know,â Jack sighs. Itâs small and as exhausted as he sounds and makes him deflate into the chair. âI just⌠canât Robby. I canât keep having that nightmare. I need to hear her voice. I need to know she heard something from me other than fucking âsleep well.â I need this to have never fucking happened!â
Robby doesnât reply immediately, gives Jack a few minutes to come back down. âShe knows you love her, Jack. She knows that you guys would have worked through whatever it was. Deep down she knows that, even if in the moment she was having anxiety.âÂ
âYou donât even fucking know her. You canât say that.â Jack shakes his head at Robby âYou have no fucking idea.âÂ
Robby just raises his eyebrows and gives him a resigned look, lets the silence take back over.Â
âI need to get back down there, but Dana is going to come up in a bit,â Robby tells him as he stands up.Â
âI donât need babysat.â Jack huffs.Â
Robby walks by and squeezes Jackâs shoulder again. âThereâs a difference between being babysat and your friends wanting to sit with you to be with you through a difficult time, Jack. We just want to help and right now all we can really do is be here. Itâs not babysitting. Itâs being a friend. Itâs loving a friend. Let us do it, okay?â He doesnât wait for an answer before walking out.Â
And so here you are again. Just the two of you. Only one of you conscious. Jack runs a hand through his hair, moves his chair back closer to your bed and holds your hand. Heâs exhausted but terrified to sleep. It always ends the same.Â
Heâs hardly aware of time passing but knows it must because Dana walks in, hands him a cup of tea. âHowâre you?â Jack shrugs. Dana lets him. âDrink the tea.â
He takes a sip, if for nothing more than to get her off his back about it. They sit mostly in silence. Sometimes Dana volunteers a funny story or tells him about some ridiculous patient they had, keeps him up to date on the Pitt gossip.Â
âYou should shower,â she suggests to him. Sheâd gone over to your guyâs place at some point and brought in toiletries, fresh clothes for you both. âIâll sit with her.â
âIâm fine. Itâs not like I do anything other than sit here.âÂ
âStill, itâs a good place to take a minute to yourself. Clear your head.â Dana tilts her head at him. âLook at me.âÂ
After a second he does, tears his eyes from you to look at her. âSheâd want you to take care of yourself.âÂ
Her words are a little too close to what you had said to him and he bristles, looks back at you. âNerve there,â Dana observes, always perceptive. âI know Iâm right. I know she must have told you that at some point or it wouldnât have pulled whatever that reaction was.âÂ
âIâm not leaving her. I donât care if I can use the shower in her room.â All he can think about is showering you there, watching the pink water go down the drain as he got all of the blood out of your hair and off the rest of your body, the way you melted into his touch and thanked him. How intimate it was. Potentially one of your last moments of intimacy.Â
âAnd the last time I gave into you and showered she fucking woke up without me.â The words hit him and he looks at Dana. âThe last time I showered she woke up,â he whispers. Heâs not really one to normally believe in such a thing but right now heâs clinging to anything. âI should shower.â
Dana gives him a long nod with a small smile. âYeah.â
So he does. Tries to split the difference between quickly so that he doesnât have to spend too much time alone thinking but slow enough to give you time to wake up. But when he turns the water off and doesnât hear Dana talking he already knows.Â
You havenât woken up.Â
âIâm sorry, hon. I was hoping it would work.â Dana looks at him apologetically.Â
He shakes his head. âItâs fine.â
Dana nods a bit and walks out.Â
Jack finds it hard to talk to you like this. He doesnât really know why. Maybe itâs just too hard for him to stand the silence he gets in return.Â
Sometimes heâll read to you. That feels nice. You go on and on sometimes about how much you love his voice. You guys met at a bookstore, both love reading. So it just feels right. And he doesnât have to stop talking and forget and be waiting for a reply that you wonât give him. He can just read.Â
He picks up whatever he had been reading to you and starts back up. He doesnât make it through much though because he just canât. The sun is setting outside again, another whole day of you in a coma almost finished and he canât stand it.Â
It burns him from the inside, makes him feel like he needs to crawl out of his skin. He needs you to wake up. He needs to fix you. Heâs a doctor. Fixing is what he does. Heâs fixed countless people.Â
But he simply cannot fix you. The only one that matters.
âYou know,â he starts, leans back in his chair and looks at you. He scoffs. âGod I donât even know. I donât know how to do this. What to say to you.â He shakes his head. âAnd I hate that,â he whispers.Â
He sets the book down and the authorâs name catches his eye. He moves in closer to you, gets up and sits on the edge of your bed, leans his head in a bit towards you as he holds one of your hands. He needs you to hear this. âIâve decided that if you donât wake the fuck up soon Iâm going to have no choice but to have someone bring me that book and start reading it to you.â He squeezes your hand and shrugs. âSo there. Thatâs my motivating wake up talk.â Tears hit his eyes and his lips wobble a little. âWake the fuck up or Iâm reading you the god damn book.âÂ
Jack watches you for a moment and sighs. He leans in and gives your cheek the lightest kiss. He canât bring himself to kiss your lips again and not feel yours move back against his. He settles back in his chair and picks up the book he was reading. Instead of opening though he just vaguely hits himself straight in the face with it a few times. He doesnât even know why. He just has the impulse. Itâs not hard, it doesnât do anything. Itâs just tapping, just something to ground him maybe. He rests it on his face, closes his eyes and leans his forehead into the cover just to feel the resistance when he pushes the back against him a bit. Maybe he tries to pretend itâs your forehead and the way you lean into each other with your foreheads together sometimes.Â
âShould I be jealous of the book Peter?â Your voice is barely audible with how cracked and dry your throat is.Â
It takes a second for the book to drop out of Jackâs hands and hit the floor. âHoly fucking shit,â he breathes. âYouâre awake.âÂ
Heâs frozen for a minute, shaking hard as adrenaline pours into his system and he feels every emotion he can think of at once.Â
âFuck me,â he huffs. âReally? All I had to do was threaten to read that stupid book to get you to wake up?â
You give him a pained smile and small laugh. It sends him into action.Â
âWhat can I say? I really hate that book. Couldnât have you torture both of us. I think Iâm doing that enough to the both of us right now.â You lick your lips and try to swallow. âWater?â You whisper at him.Â
He brings you a cup quickly, holds the straw for you. âSips,â he says softly. âLittle sips right now, okay?â You do as he says, eventually nodding for him to take it away. âPain? Are you in pain?â He looks on your bed and finds the remote. âHere.â He puts it in your hand, your thumb on top of the red button. âIf you need a booster of morphine press the button.âÂ
Youâre immediately pressing it over and over. âWhat happened?â You groan slightly. âMy chest, Jack. Itâs so bad. It hurts to breathe, like a weightâs on it.â Your words are a little slurred as the boost of morphine hits. It takes him back to the way you slurred in the trauma room and he has to fight not to go right back there in his mind. You need him.Â
âI know.â He strokes your hair. âI know, Iâm so sorry.â He looks over at one of your IV pumps. âI can ask them about upping your dose now that youâre awake, okay?â
You nod, blink at him. Your hand drops the button and finds one of his and gives it a little squeeze. âWhat happened?â
He searches your eyes with his, lets them flit about your face. His lip trembles. It breaks your heart. Whatever it was destroyed him.Â
He sits back in his chair, moves it as close to you as he can get it. You reach up to cup his face with your hand and he leans into it immediately, puts both of his hands over yours. âYou went septic. Threw a clot. It was bad. It was really bad. You coded. They had to crack your chest to get you back. So thatâs why your chest hurts so bad. Youâve been in a coma for five days. Iâm so sorry,â he whispers, âIâm so sorry I didnât-â
âHey, hey,â you whisper back to him. âDonât do that. Donât apologize. None of this is your fault. You didnât do anything, didnât cause this.âÂ
âNo,â he sniffles, âI know, but I just⌠IâŚâ Tears start to stream down his face as he looks at you helplessly and shrugs. âI couldnâtâŚâ
âJack.â The way you say his name shatters him and he folds, buries his head in your lap, wary of hurting you, and sobs as he keeps squeezing your hand. âItâs okay,â you whisper, run your free hand through his hair. You both know its a lie. Nothing is okay right now.Â
But youâre awake.Â
He doesnât cry for long, too conscious of how exhausted you must be, how he doesnât want this to be how he spends the time he just got back with you. Not right now anyway. There will be time for tears and emotions and processing later.Â
He rubs his face in your lap a bit to wipe his eyes and then lifts his head before resting it on its side against your legs. âIâm just so happy youâre awake.âÂ
âMe too.â You give him a sleepy smile. âWas always going to wake up, couldnât leave you here alone could I?â
He gives a little half laugh, half sob. âGood. Because I donât know what Iâd do without you.â You want to tell him heâd figure it out but you donât.Â
âYou gonna give me a kiss now Jack Abbot? I know I havenât brushed-â
Heâs moving the second you say kiss. He feels bad it didnât occur to him immediately but he was just so overwhelmed with you being awake. His lips against yours cut you off. Itâs not just one kiss, itâs two and three and you lose count.Â
Soft ones, small, just long enough. They say more than he could figure out how to say with his words right now. Each one is perfect in its simplicity.
âYou should rest,â he murmurs against your lips. You hum at him in response, eyes already fluttering closed. âYou know I love you right? More than anything. More than I deserve.âÂ
You open your eyes back up and look at him. âCourse I know that,â you murmur. âYou know I love you right?â
He smiles at you. Itâs a little watery, a little trembly. âCourse I know that.âÂ
You swallow hard, just from all the meds and fighting the exhaustion. âGet in bed.â Your tone doesnât leave much room to argue but he does anyway.Â
âNo. Itâs not safe. I could hurt you. You need to heal a bit more.â He squeezes your hand. âBut believe me, I want to, more than anything.â
âYou wonât hurt me. Didnât last time.â You look at him with big sleepy eyes that kill him. âHeal better with you in bed with me.â He bites his lip, torn, so scared of causing you any pain and so desperate to give you what you want. To give himself what he wants. âYouâre the one that said oxytocin helps healingâŚâ Your eyes flutter closed again.Â
He has to laugh through some tears. âGod, you really do listen and learn donât you?â
You hum at him. âSomeone has to be your best student. And it better always be me Dr. Abbot.âÂ
He laughs at that. Itâs so you, such a you thing to say. For the first time in days he really laughs even with as short as it is. For the first time in days he feels hope. Hope that everything is going to be okay and youâre going to go home together and unpack and set up your place and paint and just be together. Â
âYouâre my best everything,â he murmurs as he gently shifts you and all your wires and climbs carefully into bed next to you. He needs it. And you need it. And so he lets you both have it. He lets himself hold you as best he can while keeping you in a neutral position that wonât hurt you. Your head falls to rest on his shoulder and you sigh softly as you fall asleep. Jack kisses the top of your head, lets his lips linger.Â
âSleep well.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âDoll, I am not a dancer. I promise you. Nobody wants to see it.âÂ
âI donât believe you,â you pout at him. âAnd Iâve seen those hips in action Peter. I know how much control you have over them. How you can isolate all the little muscles in them.â
âNone of the muscles in your hips are particularly little-â
âYouâre not changing the subject,â you cut him off. âItâs a wedding. Weâre going to have to dance. At least to the slow songs.âÂ
âAre you sure you really want to take me?â He doesnât even really mean to ask it, it just comes out.Â
You look up at him and pause, drop his comforter that you were pulling back to get into his bed. âI⌠Is it too soon? Too serious too soon? I guess going to a wedding together is kind ofâŚâ you trail off looking for the word. âI donât know a thing.â
âNo!â Heâs quick to reassure you. He leans up and pulls the comforter back for you. âGet in bed.âÂ
You do as he says. âItâs not too soon, and I want to go with you, trust me. Even under threat of dancing. I just wanted to make sure you donât feel like you have to take me. I know a lot of your friends will be there and if youâre not ready to make those introductions, thatâs okay,â he explains as he pulls you to him, arms wrapping around you but loose enough so that you can see each other.Â
âI donât feel like I have to take you. I want to. I want people to meet you. I want to show you off.â One of your hands slips into the back of his hair and plays with it, ruffles the curls and scratches at his scalp on and off as you look at each other.Â
âShow me off?â He smirks at you. âYou wanna show me off?â
âMy intelligent, thoughtful, hot as all fuck doctor of a boyfriend? Yeah. I wanna show you off.â You grab at the old shirt heâs wearing to sleep in and give it and him a look of mock offense at it being on but pull him to you by it anyway. âWanna see you in a partial suit. Nice slim fit pants, collared shirt, a tie, one or two buttons open at the reception and the tie shoved in your pocket to use on me later.âÂ
Jack sucks in a sharp breath of air and you just give him a little raise of your eyebrow, start to roll onto your back. Heâs on top of you and kissing you and has his hands roaming all over you the second your head hits the pillow.Â
He always pauses for a moment and makes eye contact with you before letting himself collapse on top of you after heâs done fucking you like this. The intimacy of that quick moment always makes your heart metaphorically skip a beat. This time is no exception.Â
Jack snuggles into your chest, kissing at the top of your breasts as he does before he settles. You run your hands through his hair, are always running them through his hair or up and down his back or both. He loves it.Â
âHey Jack?â Heâll never get used to hearing his name come off your tongue.
He makes a little hum of acknowledgment, still blissed out and coming down.Â
âWeâre dancing at the wedding.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days blur together.Â
Your Pitt family rallies around both of you.Â
You start seeing a therapist and it helps, you improve some, mentally. Jack finally makes an appointment with his therapist and it helps him.Â
Everyone helps distract you, but itâs not just sitting in your room with you. One night Samira, Javadi, McKay, Mel and Heather show up in your room with painting supplies, easels, foldable stools, and a woman youâve never met before.Â
Paint and sip, they explain. Youâre doing a paint and sip right here in your room, minus the sipping, unfortunately, because of your meds. Itâs so sweet and thoughtful it makes you teary. Jack will never admit it but it may or may not have made him a little teary as he gave you a kiss and walked out to be with Robby for a bit as you guys did your painting.Â
There are more things. There are a lot more things that they all do for you, and for Jack. Robby forces Jack to leave the hospital, just to go home, get more things for you, pick up food you like, small things. The first time is rough for both of you. But it gets better.
Of course, the most special though, the one that helps your mental health the most, is what Jack does for you.Â
One night a good two and a half weeks into your hospital stay, Jack goes out to pick up dinner and Dana, Samira and Heather show up in your room again, but this time they have clothes for you. Nice clothes. A nice dress, the one you were going to wear to the wedding. Nice shoes. Make-up. Perfume.Â
The Pitt is having a little get together on the roof and you should come, they explain. You worry that Jack is not going to be happy with you out of your room and on the roof, that itâll scare him and you donât want to scare him any more than you already have. They convince you that itâs okay, that Robby called Jack already and told him and so he knows to meet you up there. Youâre confused by it all but donât feel youâre in a position to really question anything and also very excited about the prospect of getting to be out on the roof in fresh air and city noise.Â
The girls help you get dressed and your makeup and hair done nicely. Dana sprays some perfume on you. It makes you smile.Â
âWhat?â She asks, but itâs a little too knowing.Â
âI wore this perfume on Jack and Iâs first date.âÂ
She hums. âWell isnât that special? Youâll have to see if he remembers.âÂ
Heather and Samira disappear, say theyâll meet you up there, theyâre going to go change. Dana brings you up, opens the roof door and tells you to go, sheâs gotta go change. You look at her confused and shaking your head and now you know something is up. But sheâs off before you can question her.
You turn around and walk out onto the roof a little, around a little corner and thereâs Jack.Â
Thereâs Jack standing next to a dinner table with a white linen tablecloth with candles on it, fairy lights strung up on the guard rail. Thereâs Jack holding a bouquet of daffodils for you and looking at you like youâre a vision. Thereâs Jack standing in front of you in nice slim fit pants, a collared shirt with two buttons undone.Â
You look shocked because you are so far fucking beyond shocked you didnât even know it was possible. He did this for you.Â
âWe didnât get to go to the wedding,â he calls to you as he walks over while you walk to him. âYou look gorgeous.â
Youâre speechless. Beyond. Youâre thoughtless, struggling to process this, all this work that he did for you.
âI promise to give you a raincheck on the tie,â he smirks as he reaches you, leans in and kisses you. He pulls back, brows furrowed like heâs confused and it makes you laugh a little because how the hell is he the confused one now. âYou smell like our first date.â
âIâŚJack, this is⌠Yeah, itâs the same perfume. Dana brought it.â You pause, think back on your conversations with Dana. She dragged it out of you so casually one day you thought nothing of it. You shake your head and laugh a little. âShe asked me about it one day and I didnât even think about it.
âSheâs pretty good, isnât she?â Jack laughs. You nod.Â
âJack, Iâm,â you look around, hold onto his forearms to ground you. Youâre teary. Of course. âYou did all this? For me?â
âWell I certainly had many co-conspirators who helped me get it all set up, but yeah. It was my idea. You needed it. I needed it. We needed it. A date night. And this was the only place we could get in.â He hands you the daffodils, grabs your hand and leads you over to the table where you stop.
âIâŚâ You look around again. âItâs safe? For me?â You look back at him and he knows from the look in your eye that youâre not asking because youâre worried about yourself. Youâre asking because youâre worried about him, worried about putting him through more trauma and more pain if something were to happen to you up here.Â
âYes.â He helps you into the chair. âYouâre probably the safest diner in all of Pittsburgh tonight. Youâve got a physicianâs supervision.â He smirks at you. His eyes flick to the ground on the side. His go-bag. Heâs prepared, just in case. That brings you back to reality, brings you back to yourself, makes you smile and give a soft laugh.Â
He sits down opposite you, starts to take a drink of water. âHave I ever told you how hot I find it that youâre a doctor?â
Jack chokes, starts coughing and it makes you giggle.
âWhat?â You draw the word out with a bit of that shit-eating grin he loves. âWhat did you expect me to say?âÂ
âI donât fucking know but not that! You were so speechless a minute ago!â Heâs laughing a bit now, looking at you like youâre one of the seven wonders of the world.Â
âItâs just the truth!â you say through a laugh. He reveals dinner to you. Your favorite dish from your favorite place. You thank him for this, all of it, you keep saying it because youâre so blown away.Â
You eat dinner. You eat all of yours for the first time in two weeks and it makes Jack so incredibly happy and relieved. After youâre done with dinner you sit for a bit, chat a little before Jack stands up and holds out his hand to you. You raise an eyebrow at him.Â
He takes his phone out and thirty seconds later your guy's song, soft and slow, starts playing from a speaker he had hidden under the table. He offers you his hand again.Â
âOh Jack.â You pull the words out a little bit as you start to cry.
Through tears you take it and let him pull you close into a dancing hold. âI hope theyâre good tears,â Jack murmurs as he holds you close.
âTheyâre the best,â you sniffle. âI love you so much.â
Jack kisses your temple at the side of your eyebrow. âI love you more.â
The song plays on a loop. Jack dances with you until you admit youâre tired and need to rest. Itâs not even really dancing more than just swaying together, him holding you close, murmured conversation. But itâs everything. Heâs everything.Â
Youâre there for weeks. Weeks that are beautifully uneventful, the only exception being when you hit some milestones in your recovery.Â
And then one day is eventful again because a word starts being used. The word youâve both been desperate to hear.Â
Home.Â
Youâre desperate to get out of the hospital and home. Jack is just as desperate to get you there. He never wants to let you out of it again, but thatâs a conversation for a later day. Heâs dreading when you have to go back to work, back to that courthouse. Rationally he knows with the increased security since the shooting itâs probably one of the safest places for you to be but his emotional brain doesnât give a single fuck about that.Â
You laugh about it with Jack one day, how youâre going to go home to your apartment thatâs still in boxes with furniture pushed to the center of rooms so you could paint. âItâs okay, we can wait to paint or I can make Robby help. And then you can just boss me around and tell me where to put things as I unpack while you rest on the couch.â
He gives you a very pointed look.Â
âI think Iâll be okay to help you unpack. At least some things and at least for a while. If I get tired Iâll rest and I wonât go lifting a box of books, okay?â You give him a reassuring smile.Â
âNo.âÂ
You let out a deep sigh. âJack, weâve talked about this. You canât treat me like Iâm glass forever. Especially once weâre home.âÂ
âWhy not? And itâs not even treating you like glass, itâs making sure you take it easy and recover.â His face is set, but not quite as hard as it has been when youâve had this conversation in the past.Â
âI will take it easy. And I will recover. And you will be there to make sure I do both of those things. But being active, to an extent, I know, is important. Robby has said it. Dana. Heather, Mel, Santos, Shen, Parker, Perlah, Princess, Shamsi, Whitaker, Garcia, Javadi, Mohan, Mateo, everyone who has ever stepped in this room. Even you told me that, back when I didnât want to get out of bed.â You run your hands over his chest, try to be soothing. You donât want to upset him. âI know you have been through a lot with this. I know I have been. I know we have a lot to process and work through together and individually. I donât want to argue. And I know that if our positions were reversed I would be the exact same way towards you, and that if anything you have it worse because youâre a doctor and so you know way too much about the things that could go wrong. But Iâm okay. I will be okay. You tell me everyday how Iâm getting stronger.â
Jack settles his hands on your hips, rests his forehead against yours. âI know. I just⌠struggle. Because you were better and then you werenât. And I am terrified thatâs going to happen again even though I know the chances at this point are so low.â His hands squeeze your hips. âI think maybe seeing you out of here will help. Seeing you at home. Itâll make it more real. That youâre really okay.â He pulls his head from yours. âIâm sorry.âÂ
âHey,â you cup his face with both of your hands. âI donât want you to be sorry, Jack. Not for caring so much, for loving so much. Because thatâs what this is and I know it. Itâs not micromanaging or not trusting me or wanting to control me. I know that. I promise. I know this is motivated by fear and by love. Weâre going to get through this together, okay?â
He nods because he knows itâs true.Â
And then thereâs another eventful day, with a phrase youâve both been itching to hear.Â
Discharge instructions.Â
They let Robby give you them even though heâs not technically your doctor. He gives them to you even though he doesnât need to because you have Jack whoâs going to be all over you and enforce stricter ones. But you still appreciate hearing them so that you have some idea of whatâs okay and what isnât and what appointments you have scheduled for follow ups and the meds theyâre sending you home with.Â
You ask about sex.Â
Jack almost drops the bottle heâs packing away for you. âWhy, please tell me why on earth,â he draws the word out, âyouâre thinking about sex? And not recovering.â
You look at him, hold a finger up and then riffle through the bag next to you on the bed. You take out the small stand mirror Dana had brought you so that you could do your makeup that one night. You open it and hand it to Jack. âTake a look in the mirror Dr. Abbot.â
Youâre so nonchalant with how you say it, like itâs obvious and just a fact and nothing you should really have to be explaining.Â
âOh my god,â he mutters.Â
Robby ends up totally snorting his laugh because he tried to stifle it for Jack for a minute but itâs too good, itâs too funny. Robby smiles at you as he pulls it together, thinks how good you are for Jack. How youâre what he needed.
âYou could have just asked me, you know! Iâm a doctor! I know you know that, you tell me how hot it is all the time! We didnât have to fucking drag Michael into this,â he huffs. But all of you know itâs not serious. Heâs not really mad. Heâs just worried and scared and wants to protect you and doesnât want anything to happen to you and more than anything he doesnât want to hurt you. But thereâs the subtlest tinge to his voice that reflects his lust, his want, his desire to have you like that again.Â
âYes, but I donât trust you to give me a straight answer right now,â he goes to interrupt you but you shake your head and continue, speaking over him, and Jack pouts. Truly pouts. âAnd you know thatâs valid and you would have given me the most conservative answer possible. And itâs Robby,â you shrug, âheâs a doctor and your best friend and obviously knows weâre having sex, or were before all of this. Plus he saw my tits when he coded me, I think we lost some boundaries when that happened.â
âTheyâre very nice b-â
Jack shoots him a glare, one that would have Robby dead on the floor if looks could kill.
Robby stops talking and clears his throat. âRight, well, uh,â Robby hugs his tablet to him and rocks back and forth a bit. âI mean as soon as youâre ready and feel up to it.â You look over at Jack and flash a pleased smile, raise your eyebrows. âBut nothing too rough or overly strenuous. Keep it soft, slow. You know real love-making-â
âIâm going to fucking quit if you keep talking.â Jack interrupts Robby who wears the biggest self-satisfied shit eating grin.Â
You snort a laugh because the whole situation is so fucking absurd. âThank you, Robby.â Â
âOf course.â He opens his arms and you hug. âDonât take this the wrong way but I am really fucking glad I wonât see either of you tomorrow.âÂ
The three of you share a laugh. âReady?â Jack asks you. Itâs funny how in the moment youâve been dying for youâre suddenly terrified and unsure. The hospital is safe. There are doctors and medications.Â
You remind yourself that thereâs a doctor and medications at home too and the thought lets you smile at Jack and nod.
He flicks his chin to the wheelchair. âOh you cannot be serious. That is so unnecessary.â
âHospital policy.â Jack shrugs.Â
âHospital policy or Jack policy?â
âThat one actually is hospital policy.â Robby confirms.Â
Jack gives you a triumphant smirk and you roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. He does it back.Â
And then he wheels you out.
Being home is strange. Itâs a whole new normal to get used to again. There are lots of emotions. Youâre all over the place, somehow more emotional labile the first two days at home than you ever were in the hospital.Â
Despite his own emotions Jack is your rock through it and things start to get better. He paints with Robbyâs help. You talk him into letting you paint. You direct Jack and Robby on where furniture should go, with Jackâs input of course. You and Jack unpack boxes together.Â
Six or seven days after you came home youâre down to just two boxes left. All books. You and Jack are unpacking them together, him bending to get them out of the box and you alphabetizing as you put them on the shelves.Â
Jack picks up a book. The book. The one that started it all. The one âMove in with me?â is written in. He stares down at it.Â
Earlier today heâd unpacked the box where heâd hidden the ring. The ring box is in his pocket, pants loose enough to hide it.Â
âPeter?â You hold a hand out behind you to get the next book from him but Jack doesnât put one in your hand or say anything. âJack?â you repeat as you turn around to him staring at the book. He has a weird look that you canât really place. Your brows furrow in concern. âAre you okay?â
He sets the book back in the box and looks up at you for a second. And then heâs sliding down to one knee and your eyes widen. âJack,â you whisper, already teary.Â
âWeâre going on the France trip,â he starts. âItâs all planned. You should be well enough to travel by then and we can adjust to take it easier if we need.â Your mouth drops open a little. âI had this all planned too. Proposing. I was going to take you to the Louvre, propose in front of the inverted pyramids, have a photographer. I had planned to tell you about the trip the night of the day you got shot. And then the entire time you were in the hospital I wanted to ask but I didnât want it to feel like I was asking because you were in the hospital and things were scary.âÂ
You bring a trembling hand to your mouth. âBut I canât wait anymore. I canât wait for Paris. You know this has nothing to do with what happened. I had planned this before what happened. I knew I wanted to marry you within a month. That time you met me outside of the hospital after I coded that vet at the very end of my shift. We had spoken on the phone for less than a minute, I didnât tell you about it or say anything was wrong and yet you just showed up. In your work clothes. When I asked why you were there you said you could hear it in my voice, that I needed someone, needed to not be alone and so you took the day off, and itâs funny because up until you said it I had been telling myself that I needed to be alone. But you were right. When I started to argue you just put a hand to my chest and kissed me, told me that it was already done, youâd already let your boss know, grabbed my hand and started walking to my place. And thatâs when I realized you knew me better than I knew myself and that you werenât afraid to just do things for me, that you werenât going to make me ask, ever, for anything, when you knew I wouldnât be able to. You werenât going to make me struggle, force me to either open up or not get what I need from you. Thatâs when I knew I wanted to marry you.â He pauses and swallows, trying to clear the tears that line his eyes from his voice. âThereâs so much I wanted to say in this moment, so much you deserve to hearâ he laughs a little, the sound wet with tears, âbut everything has fallen out of my mind. I promise though that, if youâll let me, Iâll spend the rest of our lives making sure you hear them and know how important and necessary you are to me, how much I love you.âÂ
Tears stream down your face. They have been for a while now. Your mouth and chin tremble under your hand.Â
Jack gets the box from his pocket and opens it.
The way Jack says your name is etched into your memory. Then. âWill you marry me?â
You move your hand from your mouth, give him a look and move your shoulders in a way that says he didnât even have to ask.Â
âYes.âÂ
Itâs not exactly whispered, your voice is just so choked with tears it makes it sound like it. Jackâs face breaks out into the biggest teary smile and yours matches. Shaking hands get the ring on your finger and then Jack is standing up, arms going straight to hold your face and he kisses you like he never has before. Itâs indescribable. Itâs perfect.Â
You hug him tightly for a minute before you both pull away. âIs it okay? The ring?â
âOh,â you sniffle, try and wipe at your eyes with your hands. âYouâre going to laugh,â your voice gets a little more high pitched as another wave of emotion hits you. âThe tears, thereâs too many, I havenât been able to see it.â You cover your mouth with your hand.Â
And Jack, Jack starts laughing. Because itâs so you, from being too teary to see it to the way you got even more emotional when you told him. You laugh-cry with him.Â
The entirety of the proposal is perfect.Â
As is what follows once youâve seen the ring, almost screamed about it and how perfect it is, and gushed about it for several minutes to him.Â
Jack takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. Your shared bedroom. He lays you down on soft sheets. Itâs your first time after what happened.Â
He takes his time with you. Kisses every inch of you, every scar, new and old, lingers on the new ones. He worships you. Takes you apart and puts you back together again. Lets you do the same to him.Â
The groan of relief that comes from his chest when he finally pushes inside of you is unholy. He holds you tight to him. He adjusts so that heâs on top of you, arms under your shoulders with his elbows supporting him, holding your face in his hands. Itâs all panting and breathy and sloppy kisses and uncontrollable groans and moans and warm sweaty skin and eye contact and Jack slowly losing it and groaning nonstop as he fucks you and chases your hips harder and harder, moving you both up the bed a bit as he tries to get deeper and closer to you.Â
You take a bath after to clean the sweat off of you both and just to feel each other. He pours in so much epsom salts to help you heal that you tease him youâre going to float in the water. Itâs so warm and his touch is so relaxing that you actually fall asleep leaning back against him for a few minutes. He lets you sleep. Tries to commit the moment to memory.Â
You decide to have a housewarming party. You invite everyone from the Pitt, time it so that the night shifters can drop by for a little bit before their shift starts if they want. You invite some of your friends too.Â
You use it to announce your engagement. Every time someone knocks you and Jack go get them and you hold your left hand up. Everyone is happy for you. Some cry which makes you get teary. Jack hears you discussing the ring with Dana, Samira, McKay, and Javadi, you holding your hand out and all of them looking closely at it. He canât hear the conversation but he catches, âhe custom designed it,â and âitâs so perfect, just like him.â
He stands alone for a minute watching you and the party. He smiles as you walk up to him, arms automatically opening for you to step into. âAnd how is my beautiful fiancĂŠe doing?â You giggle at the word. FianceĂŠ. It makes it so real. âTired?â Heâs checking in on you and you know heâd have all of these people out in a literal minute if you said you were tired and needed to rest.Â
âNo, Iâm okay, I promise.â You lean up and give him a kiss. âHowâs my handsome fiancĂŠ?âÂ
âIâm pretty perfect, Doll.â He gives your hip a squeeze. âThank you.â
âFor what?â You cock your head at him a little and he melts even more for you somehow.Â
âFor everything.â Jack kisses you. âFor saying yes.â Another kiss. âFor waking up.â Another kiss. âAnd for telling me that book wasnât worth it.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wanted both without having to destroy Jack because he deserves everything so here we are. I hope it was okay! Please let me know your thoughts and comments!! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox and requests are open (see masterlist for more)! Thank you for reading all of this, I know it was long!
Part 3 is up!
And let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! Wedding, more before reader is shot, just little domestic moments between the two? I'm hoping to do a follow up to Perfumer and maybe a few more shorter things, maybe some Robby? Who knows, certainly not I.
You had me actually fucking sobbing when I thought reader died.
And then I was laugh crying in about 5 minutes.
This could legitimately be the epilogue to a bestselling novel itâs that fucking good.
Your talent is amazing. You have watered my crops and hydrated my skin. I hope both sides of your pillow are always cold and ibuprofen always gets rid of your headaches.
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warnings: 18+ minors DNI, implied smut, discussion of sex
âBabyâŚâ
You donât look up from your book as you hum, âHm?â
âYouâre being mean,â he pouts from the end of the couch.
You purse your lips. âIf I am, you deserve it.â
His head lulls backwards pathetically, âI donât deserve this. No one deserves this.â
You ignore him, scanning over the words littering the page with little thought.
He takes your lack of response as an invitation to climb up the couch a bit, just close enough that he can nibble kisses at your neck.
âCome on, Iâll make it up to you,â he promises.
You roll your eyes, flipping to the next page in your book as his hands feel up your waist. Heâs apologized a few times already, but youâre not ready to let it go. Heâd bailed last minute on your date nights one too many times and youâve had enough. So if no sex is the only thing that seems to get his attention, no sex it is. Youâre not mad, not really, but if you can give him a taste of the neglect youâve been feeling, wellâŚ
He continues despite the lack of acknowledgement, pestering on. âThis is deprivation of nourishment.â
All in all, heâs really not putting up his best argument. He could be doing better work, much better work, and youâre certainly not going to let him off so easily.
âI donât care.â You move the book youâre not really reading up higher, removing him from your line of sight.
Sensing the challenge, he takes the book from your hands, tossing it blindly out of reach. It lands with an unflattering thump on the hardwood. You gawk at him, but he doesnât notice, too busy minding his own motivating force.
He pulls you further down the couch, so heâs face level with your stomach. The top of his hair tickles you as he kisses below your navel, hands holding you in place firmly by your waist.
âBaby,â he murmurs against your skin, dragging his lips over. âPlease, please let me eat you out.â
You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at the wall.
He rests his chin gently over your stomach, peering up at you with puppy dog eyes. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of eye contact.
This pushes him to borderline pouting, huffing, âCome on, youâre not having any fun like this either.â
Yeah, but itâs more torturous for him than it is for you.
His lips edge at the seam of your underwear, and his fingers hook under the elastic as he looks up at you expectantly.
You take a deep breath upon the sight, steeling yourself.
âNo.â
He lets out an honest to God groan and drops his forehead against your stomach, whining.
You push him off of you, though he does most of the work of shifting his weight for you. You stand up from the couch and retrieve your book from its place on the floor, flipping through it to refind your page as you move for the bedroom door.
âYouâre gonna leave me like this?â he calls out at you, watching you leave.
You shrug, âTake care of it yourself.â
âMyself?â He gapes, like heâs shocked at the audacity of the suggestion.
He stands up quickly, scrambling after you into your room.
He watches as you plop down onto the bed, pretending like youâve got the concentration to keep on reading.
He pouts in the doorway, both surprised and annoyed with your commitment to making him suffer.
At this point he can take care of you better than he can take care of himself, and God knows he prefers to. So itâs bordering on inconceivable that you could have gotten so mad at him as to take away his privileges to do his very favorite thing in the world.
So he snatches your book straight from your hands againâjust as youâd found the right page, tooâand holds it up high.
âDick Grayson!â
You swat at him and try to grab it back, but heâs too quick and too tall.
You kneel on the bed, reaching up in a fruitless effort before you drop your arm at your side, glaring.
He raises his chin, silently imploring you.
âTalk to me.â
You roll your eyes, âI am talking to you. Iâm not sleeping with youââ
He shakes his head, âNo, youâre still mad.â
âAnd you think this is whatâs gonna help?â
He throws his head back. âYouâre killing me,â he whines.
âGood.â
âWhatâs the plan here? Neither of us get to come ever again?â
You all but throw your head back, âI think itâs pretty fucking bold of you to assume that I rely exclusively on you to come.â
He levels you with a look.
âYou do though.â
You gape at him. He says it with such self-assurance, so matter-of-fact that itâs not even a joke. And you know what? Yeah, heâs right you do, but you are nowhere near ready to give him the satisfaction.
So, you did something that you knew would piss him off.
âIââ you pause. âFine.â
You dip your hand underneath your waistband, prepared to prove your fucking point.
âDonâtââ he bats your hand away. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â He gawks at you, keeping an arm between your hand and your body. âThatâs my job.â
You push his arm, with minimal real effort. âItâs my body!â
âYou really donât want me to touch you? Really?â
He levels you with that look he knows you canât rebound from, giving you no room to squirm away.
Your chin lowers out of pure habit and your mouth shuts. He takes the opportunity to drop the book on the bed, scooping up both your wrists in one go. He pulls them up above your head and holds you against the bedroom wall.
âWhat can I do?â he asks lowly, face only inches from yours.
You glare at him, not trying to escape his hold.
âYou can fuck off.â
âIâm serious,â he says with a roll of his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows as to say, âyeah, I am too, buddy.â
âIâll do whatever you want. Just let me have my girl.â
You tug your hands out of his grasp, and he lets you without complaint.
You huff, looking at him.
âYou have to take me out on a date tomâa real dateâtomorrow night, the whole night, flowers and everything.â
Heâs nodding along with your words eagerly, terms he couldnât be happier to agree to.
âEven if some vigilante shit comes upââ
âOf course, of course.â
ââŚand do what you said before,â you say, quieter.
âWhat did I say before?â he asks, like he truly canât remember.
âDick,â you warn.
He smiles, perfectly content to let you off easy.
He leans forward, kissing you deeply but with an air of sweetness.
âIâm sorry I missed our date, pretty girl. Iâm so sorry.â
Your shoulders noticeably relax and you take a deep breath, nodding.
âYeah,â he says as he kneels down on the ground. He grins up at you as he hooks your leg over his shoulder. âIâll take care of my baby, of course I will.â
âď¸ iâm worried the sun will go out soon if you donât start reblogging fics âď¸
warnings: readerâs wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed to hard
You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.
You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like theyâre in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.
Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.
âHey,â Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. âWeâre doing alright for ourselves,â she said smugly.Â
âYeah,â youâd nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did.Â
âOkay listen, I think the flagââ what flag? ââis by the fountain so, I think because thereâs three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.â
âWeâre on teams?â you asked, no longer completely sure you know what youâre playing.Â
âWe are now!â she smiled, starting to run. âIâll bait!â
She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, âDonât trust Cass,â before scurrying away.
Rather than sit around and wait there forâŚsomething?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.
What you didnât see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear.Â
What you also didnât see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. Youâd mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.
Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.
âAre you okay?â she signs.
âYeah, yeah, Iâm good.âÂ
The response was instinctual and you didnât actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it.Â
You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. Theyâre savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern.Â
âYou good?â Tim asked, approaching languidly.
âThat looked like it hurt,â Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.
Dick shook his head, âNo, sheâs okay.â He turned to you, prodding, âYouâre okay.â
âYeah, Iâm, umâŚâ you winced, looking at your wrist. âIt hurts a little.â
Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. âIt might be sprained.â
Dick paled.Â
âNo.â
Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, âWe can get it wrapped upstairs.â
âNo.â
You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanieâs face, begging to break. Â
âOoooh. Heâs gonna kill you.â
Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.
âYou know I didnât mean to grab you that hard right? IââÂ
Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dickâs now-third explanation/apology for the incident.Â
âI know, Dick,â you say, trying to appease him.Â
âIâm sorry,â he tells you genuinely, but you can tell thereâs more there that he isnât verbalizing.
You nod, âI know, Dick. Itâs okay. It was just an accident.â
Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that sheâs all done.Â
You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.
He takes a deep breath, âWhat ifâŚwhat if you avoid him until it heals?â
âDick.â
He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes,Â
He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.
âAre you going to tell him?â he asks, looking like heâs bracing for bad news.
You shake your head sympathetically, âNo. I canât guarantee you that he wonât find out, but I wonât tell him.â
Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. âOkay. Okay.â He stands, âI need to go.â
You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically.Â
Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.
âIâll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.â
Tim barks out, âAbsolutely not.â He looks at his brother, still laughing. âNo fucking way.â
Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. âFive.â
A deadpan from Tim.Â
âYou donât have five thousand dollars.â
Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. âDude, please! Heâll kill me!â
Tim scoffs, âHeâd kill me!â
Dick huffs, âNo, itâs different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?âÂ
âWell then it sounds like you fucked up,â Tim sneers.
âOh my God.â
He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?
He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.
The latter sits up with a tense brow, âMaster Dick?â
The former turns around in his seat, âWhatâs the matter?â
Dick struggles for a second before confessing, âI accidentally sprained someone's wrist.âÂ
Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. âAlrightâŚyouâll have to take responsibility for their patrol dutiesââ
Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, âSaid person doesnât have any patrol duties to be affected...â
Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.
âI canât help you.â
Dickâs panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.
Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, âYou donât think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?â
âIâI donât know!â Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. âI donât know what to do!â
Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, âDick, when you make a mistakeâŚyou have to submit to the consequences, you know that.â
Dick gapes, âThis is not a normal consequence!â
Meanwhile, youâve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jasonâs childhood bedroom.Â
Youâre admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you.Â
âSweetheart?â Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.
âHey, Jay,â you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.
He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you.Â
Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back.Â
You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. âHowâs the bike?â
âBetter than it was this morning,â he sighs. âWhereâve you been?â
He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you.Â
You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. âUh, we were outside, playingâŚat least three separate games at once.â
The second youâre in proximity, your hands join like itâs second nature.Â
He nods, all too familiar with the familyâs unique methods of gamefair.
âDid thââ He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. âWhat happened?â
You glance down, shrugging. âOverexerted myself playing tag.â
He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.
He turns your hand over gently, asking, âIs it sprained?â
You nod, relaxed. âYeah. Cass said itâs mild.â
âDoes it still hurt?â
âNo,â you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. âBarely hurt then.â
He nods, but he doesnât look satisfied with the conversation.
Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt.Â
âYou, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?â he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following.Â
âYeah,â you say gaily. âAlfred said heâs making his âspecial spaghettiâ, apparently itâs a household favorite?â
He wavers, halfway to between decisions. âYeahâŚâ
He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. âCan I see it?â
You nod, happy to ease his mind.Â
You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.
You both see it at the same timeâthe hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.
Youâre both quiet for a secondâhim putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.
He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.
âFucking idiotââ
You try for his hand but heâs out of reach before you can grab it.
âIâll be right back,â he grumbles behind him.
âJasonââ you sigh, âAt least help me wrap it back up first.â
He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.
You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. âIt was just an accident,â you tell him.Â
He scoffs, âIt better have been.â
You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. âJason. Iâm not made of glass, you canât expect other people to act like it.â
âI donât. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he canât do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.â
You sigh, âJust donât do anything harsh. Please. I think heâs worried youâre gonna punch him.â
âHe should be,â he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly.Â
You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, âYouâre not going to. Right?â
He doesnât answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, âRight?â
His eyes roll, âYeah, fine.â
You smile, holding his face. âI love you.â
He huffs as though heâs inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. âI love you.â
He looks you in the eye, face serious. âYou promise me it doesnât hurt?â
âI promise,â you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.
âDick!â
The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.
He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes.Â
âWhere is he?â
Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding.Â
Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.
He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. âStephanie?â
âI donât know,â she says honestly. âBut let me know when you find him, I wanna seeââ
But Jasonâs moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.
He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.
Thereâs a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what theyâre seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail.Â
âReally? Really?â Jason shouts.Â
âIt was an accident! It was a fuckingââÂ
He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.
âAre you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherfââ
Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.
Dick takes a breath, âDude, itâs fine now, itâs not that big of aââ
Jason recoils, ââItâs not a big dealâ? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!â
He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him.Â
Dick throws his hands up in front of him, âWait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?â
Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. âYou canât call a truce if youâre the only one who did anything wrong.â
âIâŚâ It doesnât take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option.Â
âPlease?â Dick asks, nothing short of imploring.Â
Jason relentsâslightlyâupon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as heâd been planning to.Â
âI told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hardââÂ
Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. âI know, I knowââ
âClearly you fucking donât!â Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. âYou sprained her wrist. Youâve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?â
Dick grimaces, âI do! I do, I just screwed up, Iâm sorry!â
âDonâtââ Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, âDid you apologize to her?â
 âYeah, of course I did!â
For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body.Â
The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.
It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, âIdiot,â before pushing him once more.Â
âJason.â
Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption.Â
You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.
He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.
âI didnât hit him.â
âď¸ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch âď¸
A/N: sorry I disappeared yâall, I got a new job and I have like no free time. Iâm hoping that once I get used to it Iâll have more time to write. In the mean time enjoy this short blurb.
Jason Todd x gn!Reader
Content warnings: Jason Todd is utterly in love with you, reader is described as having brown eyes (I feel thatâs kinda obvious), reader is described as only wearing Jasonâs shirt, Oral (reader receiving) but it remains vague, oral scenes are more for the intimacy than the smut, Jason Todd is SO cheesy while flirting.
ââââ
Jason Todd loves the way your eyes look. He loves how they can change so drastically depending on the time of day. He loves how they catch the light and reflect it back so beautifully.
-
He loves when he slides into bed as the first rays of sunlight stream through the window, and while he hates waking you, he canât help but feel warm as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead at the sight of your sleepy yet loving expression when you stir. As he settles down and pulls the blankets up to cover you both he canât help but admire how your eyes light up with a warm honey tone as they catch the red and oranges rays of the sunrise. Jason leans in and kisses your lips. He loves you more than words can express.
-
He loves when he wakes up to an empty bed, prompting him to go searching for you, only for his nose to be met with the smell of a cooking breakfast and his eyes to be blessed with the sight of you in the kitchen, clad only in one of his T-shirts. He watches from afar, leaning against the wall as he becomes entranced in the way the hem of his shirt dances deliciously across the tops of your thighs. When you begin to place food on plates he approaches you from behind, his hands circling around your waist to hold you close as he places his head on your shoulder.
âThought you were just gonna stand there forever.â You quip as you gently bump your heads together, he returns the gesture affectionately.
âHow could I stay put when the food looks so good.â He hums lowly, pressing his mouth against the skin of your neck, causing a bone-deep shiver to rack your chest. Jason chuckles at the sensation.
âThe foodâs gonna get cold.â You warn half-heartedly, pushing the food out of the way just as Jason spins you and places you on the counter before eagerly dropping to his knees.
âI want desert first.â Jason teases, snickering as you pretend to gag at his cheesy comment. The mood shifts quickly however as the sight of Jason playing with the hem of his shirt as he kisses the inside of your thighs sends a shiver down your spine and prompts you to let out a deep sigh. Jason loves the way your pupils darken with lust as you watch him, loves the way he can see you let go as he breaks you down before he builds you right back up.
-
He loves how you cuddle against him during aftercare. He loves how the colors of the movie you had insisted on watching dance across your eyes. He loves the captivated look on your face, how you lean further into him when a dramatic scene happens, and how he can feel you tense up when you get nervous.
He doesnât know how long heâs been gazing at you for, but his trance is broken when you look up at him with a playful quirk in your brow.
âAre you even watching the movie?â You tease, stretching your neck to place a chaste kiss to a dark bruise on his collar bone.
He releases a deep sigh at the feeling of your lips against his skin and lets his head hit the back of the couch with a âthunk!â, prompting a strange sense of pride of when it succeeds in pulling a soft laugh from you. âWhy would I watch a movie when youâre right here?â Jason coos, letting his eyes dance over the highlights of your face as you roll your eyes at his cheesy attempting at flirting. Jason remains completely undeterred from his antics however as you nuzzle back into his side, rewinding the movie slightly so you can catch up on what he had distracted you from.
-
Jason loves how you look against him as you sleep, cuddled into his side. How you drool on his shoulder and slightly tighten your grasp on him when he moves. He loves watching how the shadows dance across your face, running up slopes and sliding down hills, chased by his fingers as he traces the lines of your skin, committing them to memory.
He stops his movements and tenses as he feels you stir slightly, before relaxing as you move slightly to hide your face where his neck meets his shoulder. Despite his best efforts Jason canât help but let out a soft laugh as he feels you mummer some sleepy nonsense into the skin there.
He tilts his head to rest it against yours as he releases a deep sigh at the feeling of you curled up next to him. He knows that if he wants you to be able to sleep tonight heâll have to wake you up soon, but for now he is more than content to lie here with the love of his life and guard them while they rest their eyes.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!
Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.
Word count: ~2k
(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)
You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.
You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.
Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.
No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.
You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.
Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.
But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.
Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.
You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.
And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?
That's a future you problem, thankfully.
You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantryâthanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foodsâthen backtrack.
Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.
You won't drink it tonight, obviously.
Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.
The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.
"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."
A gun.
A gun is pressed to your head.
Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.
Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.
You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.
The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.
"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"
The robber scoffs. "Obviously."
"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."
"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?
Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.
Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.
"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.
The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.
The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.
Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.
Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.
The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.
The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.
You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.
Despite everything, you're impressed.
The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.
"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.
"Can you look at me?"
You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.
"Are you okay?"
You blink. That... does not compute.
The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?
The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.
"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.
Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.
He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.
"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.
"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"
"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."
"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"
You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...
"You need to go to the hospital."
"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."
"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."
"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."
The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"
Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"
"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."
It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."
"No?"
Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.
"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."
"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"
"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.
"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."
"I'm literally right there." You point.
He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"
"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."
"I'm reformed," he grumbles.
"Well, good for you."
You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.
"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.
"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.
Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.
Your poor neighbors.
You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.
You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.
It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.
Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)
Word count: 2.3k
Ow.
You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.
But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.
And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.
So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.
Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yetâlast night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.
But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so youâre almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.
In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. Youâre a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.
You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.
âOh, no,â says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. Sheâs staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurantâs entranceway. âDonât you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.â
âWhat time is it?â your head jerks up. âWeâre about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?â
âYeah,â she says, pointing to the screen. âThe hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.â
You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. âThe kitchenâs stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.â The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.
âI canât tell what heâs saying.â Charlotte squints at the screen. âHeâs, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?â
Youâre out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one manâs halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. Youâve been here long enough that the managers wonât fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.
Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.
Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's his face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.
Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.
"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"
Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."
"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."
You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.
He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."
Ashley's face goes blank.
"I told you I would be home late."
âNo,â he corrects. âYou texted me that you were being held up.â
âYeah, at work.â
âAnd then you disappeared.â Jasonâs jaw clenched. âDid you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?â
âOh, shit,â your hand flies up to cover your mouth. âMy phone died, I donât know when. You couldnât check my location and see I was here?â
He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.
âHey, Y/N.â Itâs your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jasonâs appearance. âWhatâs going on up here?â
âHey, Steve,â you say. âSorry, this is my boyfriend JasonâJay, this is my manager, Steveââ
Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steveâs hand.
âMy phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.â
âAs soon as your tables leave and your sectionâs clean, youâre good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.â
âItâll be at least another hour,â you say apologetically to Jason.
âOkay.â His eyes keep boring into you like heâs trying to send you a telepathic message. Heâs mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. Youâre a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and itâs fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. âIs it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?â
âOf course!â Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."
"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."
Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.
As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"
"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."
You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchupâhe's been waiting almost five whole minutesâand check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"
"What?"
"Thanks, you too!"
You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).
By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and youâre out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jasonâs up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.
He doesnât say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you arenât looking. You wonât fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.
He drove your car to pick you up, and even though heâs obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driverâs seat.
The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, âWhyâd you pick up a shift without telling me?â
"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."
Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."
"I'm sorryâ"
"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was offâ"
"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."
Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."
You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."
"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"
"Mad? I'm not madâyou're mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"
"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."
"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."
"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"
"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.
"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."
"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"
You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bedâ"
Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partnerâ"
"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.
"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."
"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"
"I can still give you one," you offer.
"Maybe later."
He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.
You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.
Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.
You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.
"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.
"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"
"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."
"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"
"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"
"You're the injured one. What do you want?"
"I want whatever you want."
You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."
"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."
"Chinese?"
"You got it."
Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.
Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"
You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."
"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"
"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."
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aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood
part one
warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault
It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You donât know if thatâs your fault or his.
âHowâs it goinâ down there?â You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.
He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. âI am up here for a reason,â he says factually.
You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You donât like that one.
He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. âWhy are all the lights off?â
âForgot to turn âem on,â you tell him simply.
He frowns at you, confusion evident.
You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks itâs odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge.Â
Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.
When you return, heâs leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.
You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go.Â
He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. âYouâre drunk.â
You shake your head, âIâm not sober.â
âThatâsâyeah.â He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.
He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesnât seem youâd left him much room. If he minds, it doesnât show. âWhatâd you do?â
âI jusâ went out with my friend,â you tell him, closing your eyes. âShe moves pretty fast..â
It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. âYou good?â
âI feel great,â you keen. âI feelâŚswooshy.â
He gives you a bemused look. âDizzy?â
You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, âNo, not even dizzy, justâŚswoosh.â You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.
âMhm.â
You pucker your lips to the side. âYou come here a lot,â you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.
âYouâre in my neighborhood,â he shrugs.Â
Your head tilts, âYou live here?â
He pauses before correcting himself, âMy territory.â
You hum, âStill. There has to be other people around here you know. âSpecially if youâre passing out on balconies on the reg.â
He frowns, âI try not to make a habit out of it.â
You continue on, âWhy do you always go to my apartment? Thereâsââ
âI donât always come to your apartmentââ
You deadpan, âYouâre here like three nights a week. And I donât even help you that much anymore, youâve used up my whole first aid kit.â
You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. âThat thing wasnât exactly impressive to start with..â
âDid enough for you, didnât it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,â you say with a nod.
That has him going absolutely rigid, âWhat?â
âIâve heard youâre an asshole.â
âWhat?â
You nod, âLike, people that run into you. They say youâre kind of a dick. You help âem ân everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.â
âOkay...â
âBut youâre nice to me. Sort of,â you squint. âI think you like me.â
He hasnât felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. âIâwell Iâm not here because youâre a world-class medic.â
You scoff, âThereâs no world-class medics..â But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. âWeâre friends arenât we? I think weâre friends.âÂ
He shakes his head, staring up blankly. âSure, weâre friends.â
âWeâre friends and you like me,â you reiterate.
He really wishes youâd stop saying that. âOkay.â
âI like you too. Even though youâre kinda sketchy.â
He doesnât know what to say to that.
You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. âJâŚJames, Jack, JohnâŚâ
He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. âIâm not going to tell you.â
You ignore him, âJake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, JesseâŚâ
Youâre about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens.Â
âJuuhhhâŚâ you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.
He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before.Â
His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. âYouâre pretty.â
What?
âWhat?â
âWhat?â He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasnât expecting them to climb out of his mouth.
You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. âIâmâŚpretty?â
He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position heâs going to take here. âIâwellâŚyeah.â
You blink once, relaxing. âI thinkâŚI think youâre pretty too.â
âWhat?â
âWe canât do this again.â
He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.
You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. âI mean, I know I havenât seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so IâŚmaybe I shouldnât be saying this.â You reset with a shallow breath, âI donât know what your whole face looks like.â
âThat was,â he blinks, eyebrows raised. âFascinating.â
âThanks,â you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.
He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didnât mean to say it but he definitely meant it: youâre really fucking pretty.
Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. Itâs when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.
And he doesnât do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isnât doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and heâs pretty confident later heâll curse himself for lying like this for so long.Â
But as he lays, he doesnât find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. Heâs usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.
He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didnât know any better, heâd call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.
He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesnât make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.
Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.
Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.
So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.
You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.
You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.
âOh, shit,â you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. âHood?âÂ
Thereâs no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. âJ? J!â
His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this.Â
He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. âHey..â
You sit back on your heels with a sigh, âWhat the fuck?â
He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. âWhat is that?â
âHuh?â He throws back a tired glance, âOh. They're..curtains.â
âExplain.â
He looks at you blankly, âYou donât have any curtains.â
You blink. âExplain.â
âItâs dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.â For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, heâs not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion.Â
You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.
You set it back down, blinking. âThanks.â
He only gives a half-hearted shrug.
You look back at him, âHow bad is theâŚ?â You gesture to the side of your head.
He feels at the blood again, âItâs mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.â
You nod, âIâll, uhâIâll clean it up.â
He looks at you, shaking his head. âYou donât need to. Your kitâs almost empty anyways.â
âI restocked it,â you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while youâre gone.
You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. âHere, sit on the couch,â you tell him, nodding him up.Â
He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldnât have minded either wayâif only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.
As much as you are completely in his space, youâre having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works.Â
You huff, sitting back. âI canât..â
He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep heâs breathing and how heâs seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. Youâre sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly youâre kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.
An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and heâs about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.
You go back to dabbing at the blood and itâs clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. âYou should move.â
âBut then where would you go?â
He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.
You continue to wipe away at the blood until you canât see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you donât move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt.Â
His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesnât stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.
Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though thereâs an increasing resolve on both of your parts, though the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.
The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.
A long beat passes before heâs tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You arenât given the time to process the shift as heâs moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.
âSorryâIâmâŚâ his shoulders drop, âSorry.âÂ
He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until heâs gone completely.
You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.
What the fuck?
Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits.Â
Youâre not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldnât possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since heâs the only one who did anything. All in all, itâs a little disappointing.
There had been tension there and it wasnât shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.
Maybe you canât read him as well as you think because youâd expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldnât kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesnât make sense.
Itâs a little more than embarrassing to admit that youâve been purposefully staying home in the hope that heâll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.
Youâd asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily.Â
The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.
âHey gorgeous,â she smiles at you, waving you in.
You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey.Â
Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. âYou been cool?â
You nod, âYeah, justâyou knowâŚâ She doesnât. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something youâve kept to yourself, though you donât know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least.Â
You take a deep breath, âYouâve been busy. Jessie call out again?â
She laughs dryly, âOh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.â She sighs, âIâm almost done anyway.â
You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. âYou need help?â
âNo, thereâsââ she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. âOh, shit. Duck.â
âWhaââ she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.
You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.
ââChrist, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time Iâm gonna kill her.â
You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.
A second man mutters something you canât make out.
The first voice continues, âGo around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.âÂ
Another voice, âThe crates? Theyâre not here..â
Thereâs a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, âWhat the fuck do you mean theyâre not here? She needs them now.â
âWellâŚthe first shipments will be in later this week. The next batchâll take until the end of the month, probably.â
A sigh, âDumbassâŚâ
The first voice huffs, âThe end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and youâve got it coming in at the end of the month?âÂ
âIâllâŚIâll see what I can do to get it sooner.â
âYeah, you do that,â he grumbles. âMotherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.â
One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.
âWhat the fuck?â
You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like heâs trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesnât match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.
Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, âYouâre not supposed to be here still, Chloe.â
She shifts her weight, âI was justâŚfinishing inventoryâŚâ
The bossmanâs eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. âOh and you brought a friend. Great.âÂ
âMr. Murray, we were just abââ
Heâs quick to cut her off with a hand, âChloe. Stop talking.â
Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.
âGet up.â
Sheâs pushing herself off the ground instantly while youâre still on the floor catching up with what the hellâs going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.
You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. Thatâs to say, youâre feeling a little exposed.
You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.
âHow old are you, honey?â Even without the blatant ogling, thatâs never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.
Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing.Â
âHey, donât be rude. I asked you a question.â He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes.Â
Somehow, you feel like thereâs no answer here that would help you.Â
The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, âWe donât have time for this.â
Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. âI think we got plenty of time.â
âI disagree.â
All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.
The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isnât in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didnât make a peep whenever he came in.
Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago.Â
âHood..â the bossman says measuredly. âWhat are you doing here?â
He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. âJust thought Iâd check up on you, Murray. Make sure youâre not causing trouble in light of our agreement.â He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.
He waves that off easily, âThis is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.â
Hood takes a piqued breath. âYou picked a bad time to lie to me,â he says flatly.
Murray shakes his head, âLook, weâre just cleaning up a mess. No harm.â
âReally?â
âThis clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girlâChloe, get out. Sheâs fine, sheâs not talking.â
Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.
He continues, âWe only need to kill one of them.â He says it like this is an ideal compromise. Youâre feeling differently.
Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. âIâm thinking itâs implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.â He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murrayâs head.
Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. âHey, an alliance is an alliance!â
Hood wavers his head to the side, âAlliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybeâŚâ
The short man pipes up, âOkay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.â
âThatâs the spirit,â Hood quips, lowering his gun.
The older one shakes his head, âWe donât have anything on her, sheâll talk.â
The short man demurs, âWe donât know thatââ
âShe saw too much, we canât have her walking around with that information,â Murray says, moving towards you.Â
Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, âNobodyâs killing anybody.â
Murray scoffs, âYou were gonna kill me!â
Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, âAnd I still might!â
Boldly, Murray steps up to him.
But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. âLet's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight youâre winning?â
The look on Murrayâs face tells you itâs not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.
It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesnât look happy about it.Â
Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him.Â
Murray splutters, watching you go. âYou canâtâI-I know people.â
âI am people,â Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.
Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.
His stride doesnât even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, itâs silent between you.
After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. âThat uh, that seems like something heâs gonna be mad about.â
He huffs, âYeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess itâs a personal choice.â
You frown at his tone, âWhatâs your problem?â
That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. âWhy the hell are you out here?â
His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. âWhy are you out here? You have a concussion.â
âI donât have a concussion,â he grumbles. âAnd I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isnât your best move right now.â
You try to stop and face him but he doesnât let you, keeping you moving along with him. âThatâs what weâre doing? Really?âÂ
Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. Heâs proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so youâre really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He wonât acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that thereâs no way he doesnât have. Especially if heâs acting like this.Â
He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. âDid they say anything about a drug shipment?â
This is what weâre talking about? Sure. Fine. At least youâre talking.Â
You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. âI donât know.â
He tries again, âWhat about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?â
âIâŚI donât know.â You werenât exactly taking notes behind the bar counter.Â
His head drops down heavily, âOkay, I think Iâm seeing a trend for how this conversationâs gonna go...â
You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks itâs you whoâs handling this discussion poorly. âYou cannot be serious right now.â
He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, âJustâwhyâd they let Chloe go?â
You blink a few times, âI mean, she has a drug problemâŚâ You guess that might be where sheâs getting them fromâŚ
He nods solemnly, âOkay.â
You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope heâll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room.Â
âAre youââ you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air.Â
A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, âReally?â
One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like itâs no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.
Count âem up, thatâs one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.
You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it.Â
So when you walk out from the bathroom, youâre a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water.Â
Maybe itâs his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.
He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.
He doesnât look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence.Â
âYou got any bandages left?â he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder.Â
You stare at him incredulously.Â
After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. âWhat?â
âAre you kidding me?â
âIââ he squints, eyes flickering across your face. âNo?â
You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.
He stares back, eyes wide. âI donât know what you want me to say...â
You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. âYou know what, I think I know what your problem is.â
He gives a laugh with little life to it. âI only have one?â
You bite down on your lip, âYou only have one Iâm ready to kill you over.â
He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, âWhat is it?â
You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. âThat youâre an idiot,â you mutter. You start to walk away before turning around again after a few steps. âWhere the hell have you been?â
He blinks, âUh, thereâs just been a lot ofââ
âBullshit.â
Heâs about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, âYeah.â He takes a deep breath, sitting back. âIâŚwasnât prepared for this conversation,â he says carefully.
You scoff with a nod, âYeah, neither was I, but itâs happening. I mâwhat did you think was going to happen here? Iâyou kissed me, you kissed me!â
âNo Iââ he huffs, âI shouldnât have done that, okay?â
âWhat the fuck does that mean?â
He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. âWhat do you want me to say?â
You shrug without genuinity, âAnything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.â
He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. âI know, I know, Iâm sorry!â
âIâm not asking you to be sorry, Iâm asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!â
He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. Itâs quiet for long enough that you start to think heâll accept the silence as his cue to leave. Youâre not sure if you want him to or not.
You take a deep breath, eyes closed. âI need you to start being straight with me. Now.â
He doesnât look up, taking his time to find his words. âI am sorry,â he tells you. âIâŚIâm not good at this. Iâm not good with words so I shouldnât have fucking done it.â
Honestly you werenât expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so youâre not prepared to weigh out whether or not itâs a good one.
âI like you...a lot. And I didnât knowâI donât knowâwhat to do about it so I kissed you and I didnât think it through, andâŚI guess I panicked.â
Thatâs more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesnât take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. âI wouldâve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.â
He nods to himself. âJusâ depends..â he says quietly.
And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. Youâve run out of angry words to spit and heâs run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like youâre done.
The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldnât find a name for it. Itâs got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollowâŚmaybe just softer.Â
He cuts through your thoughts before you can, âAre you mad that I kissed you?â
You shake your head, âNo. Iâm mad about what happened after.â Youâre just mad about what happened after. Shouldâve said just.
He thinks about that for a moment.Â
âI can be honest with you,â he tells you. The way he says it, itâs somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.
You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him.Â
He goes on, âI trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.â
You blink a few times, processing. âIâŚI donât know anything about you.â
He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.
It doesnât though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.
It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if heâs crazy for doing it.
He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.
You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.
Youâre not revealed to much more of his face than youâd already seen before, but entirely in view like this, heâs a sight. You try not to stare but thereâs little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternativeâŚ
All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.
He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. âMy name is JâŚâ he says with assurance. âTodd,â he tacks on.
You donât mean to, really, but youâre sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind.Â
JâŚToddâŚJâŚJayâŚToddâŚJasonâŚToddâŚ
Your mouth hangs open, âYouâre Jason Todd. Youâre deââ Well a couple things are starting to add up. âHow are youâŚhow are you notââ
He waves that away, tiredly. âIt's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.â
Autopsy scar. Fuck.Â
âI mean, IâllâŚâ he hesitates, âIâll tell you if you want me to.â
He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. Youâre quick to shake your head, âItâs okay.â
He nods, likely relieved.
You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. Youâd half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.
You close your eyes before asking, âWhoâs Nocturna?â
âSheâs just this woman thatâs been causing trouble for us.â
You donât say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. âSheâs more annoying than anything.â
You open your eyes, looking over. âYeah?â
He shrugs, âJust trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.â
You give a laugh thatâs barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..
Thereâs the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.
He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. âI have to go...â He says reluctantly.
You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. âGo where?â
He pauses before telling you, âA cemetery.â
You nod vacantly, âOh. Just for fun, orâŚ?â
He gives a dry laugh, âJust meeting an associate. Theyâre a bit dramatic, so.â
âYeah, Iâd say.â
âIâll come backâIâm going to come back,â he mutters against your hairline.
You donât respond, but you both know heâs good for his promise.
He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it.Â
He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. âHere,â he says, looking you in the eye. âIf you need anything. Anything.â
You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like heâs thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.
You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.
[Say his name, P2]
AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait!
CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour or Tims part.
Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.
Then you happened.
Ever since heâs been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out youâd spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesnât know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.
But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.
Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.
Turning up at your house? Way too much.
Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. Heâd overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasnât scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldnât pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.
Thatâs how heâs ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldnât recognise him before he was ready.
âSo have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when youâre⌠you know?â He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. Youâd had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.
âWhat like âDaddyâ? Yeah, my ex was into that.â
âNo.â Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning youâd confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. Heâd bet youâre all flustered. âLike, another actual manâs name?â
âNo, hon. Thatâs weird.â
âWhoâs the guy? Whose name?â
âYou donât know him.â You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. âBut he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.â
âThatâs really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?â
He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but itâs so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word âyeahâ dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.
The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friendâs clue into the situation. If it werenât for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, youâd think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.
Heâs staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering âI have to piss!â As you abruptly leave the table.
I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that youâd called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.  Â
The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually youâd be annoyed but tonight youâre grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadnât been followed.
âSo, is he your boyfriend?â Where the fuck had he come from? You hadnât seen him approach at all.
âHeâsâŚâ Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, youâve never had that conversation, you donât even know who he is under the mask. You donât have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadnât even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, thereâs a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. âWhy?â
Youâre much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didnât really know Tim, and heâs really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than heâd intended, but he canât bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. Itâs like heâs trying to seduce you on hard mode.
âJust tryinâ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?â He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts youâd heard him on, but still familiar. Itâs hard to focus on, however, because heâs standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features youâve been fantasising about up close.
âThis place doesnât have a dance floor.â
âWe could go to another place.â
âOh no buddy, Iâm not going to any secondary locations.â He canât help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. âDonât think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that Iâm gonna fall all over you.â
âBuddy? You can call me Tim.â The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but heâs chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. âOr if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guyâs name is.â
âIs this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so youâll go away when itâs over?â
âOuch.â You have a point, heâs never behaved like this before. Heâs always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. Heâs being a jerk, but youâre chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies youâre more into it than youâd admit. âAm I not what you expected?â
He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasnât already comfortable around you, heâd be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.
âYouâre why people say you should never meet your heroes.â
âOkay, fine.â Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. âCan I just ask you one more thing, and then Iâll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.â
Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. Itâs not an uncommon tick for people to have, but itâs certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, meaningful eye contact. Youâre still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.
It doesnât stop him from asking, however. âWhat clued this guy into your crush on me?â
âPictures.â You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy youâve been emanating since heâd followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.
âPictures of what?â
He tries to pry but you give him nothing.
âOf you.â
âWhat kind of pictures.â
The answers here donât matter to him anyway, he already knows. Heâs just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.
âJust, pictures.â
âHow ambiguous.â Hereâs his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. âDid you practice kissing on them?â
âWhat? No.â Your tense shoulders say otherwise. âWhy would you even ask that?â
âI donât know.â Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but itâs washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. âThought Iâd offer you the real thing to compare.â
Your response isnât what heâs expected, but it is what heâs hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he canât stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.
He neednât bother, however, because it doesnât take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment heâs been waiting for.
His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.
Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. Itâs his turn to be nervous. Youâre looking at him with something fierce and canny.
âExcuse me.â A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. âAre you waiting?â
âOh, yeah.â Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. Heâs even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.
âWhat are you doing?â
âComparing with the real thing.â You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how youâd looked when youâd first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.
He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. Youâve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. Thereâll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globeâs home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.
âYouâve changed your tune.â He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. Heâs wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, heâs had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole youâd give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.
Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.
âSo, Red.â Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. Heâs not sure what gave him away, but he doesnât have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. Heâs not sure if he wishes heâd never done this at all, or if heâd done it sooner. âWhat name should I use tonight?â
Yâall I had something super hot in the works for you this morning and then I woke up and TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED IT RAHHHH
This is my 13th reason I swear to god
No but actually Iâm gonna keep pushing through and working on it I just needed to ramble cause wtf tumblr I try to give my audience a gift of a very nice (at least in my mind) smut piece and then you fucking eat it?? Rude!
Thinking about clit slapping again, per 2.5 asks, yaâll make some great observations. Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy.
Bruce
Thinking about Bruce who loves to tease you with a straight face. Who tells you to âbe patientâ, whoâs helping you build on your self-restraint by touching every inch of you with those big, thick hands except the one place you keep begging him for.
Bruce who keeps you on edge until itâs unbearable, until on a whim you decide if heâs not going to do anything about it, you will.
Bruce who grumbles in your ear, low and restrained; âWhat did I tell you?â
Bruce who opens your slick folds, in a controlled, slow motion which only serves to make you needier until he comes down on your sensitive clit with his other hand. The obscene smack that rings through his chambers is almost drowned out by your anguish, desperate cry.
Dick
Dick with his long, dexterous fingers who loves to explore every crevice of your body. Who would do anything to keep hearing you make those pretty noises for him.
Dick who knows the key to keeping you sex dazed is working your clit until itâs dark and swollen and youâre incapable of following a thought. So he rubs and grinds against it, swirls his tongue around it, and laps until his jaw is soaked in his own saliva and your juices.
And then one day, with no forethought, Dick flicks it with the back of his middle finger and the resulting sob was so delicious he had to eat up more.
âYouâre so perfect, baby.â Dick purrs between sloppy kisses and strikes of growing intensity. âDo it again, baby. Come on, just for me pretty girl.â
Jason
And Jason, who is big and tough, and rough around the edges but would do anything you want to hear you praise him.
âYou like that, sweetheart?â He asks you over and over again, basking and melting just a little bit more every time you reply with âFuck, yes Jason! Feels so good baby.â
âWho? Who makes you feel good?â He begs for more. âYou Jason, you!â
So when you ask Jason to try slapping your clit, he doesnât hesitate. He slaps it once, savouring the way your body tremors under the force of his brawny hand. Twice, and he canât believe how lucky he is to have found someone so beautiful and shameless as you. Three times, with no end in sight.
Tim
Tim read about it in an cosmopolitan article and canât wait for the chance to experiment with you, and he knows if he plays his cards just right youâll always cave.
âSpread your legs.â He murmurs in a voice thatâs assertive but so soft. The tips of his long hair tickle your soft skin as he kisses his way down your torso. Timâs warm, calloused hands guiding your thighs apart as he slinks between them. âThatâs it hon, just like that.â
He intends to warm you up, to rub your pretty little clit beneath his thumb until youâre pleading for more, to spell T-I-M on it with his tongue over and over but; âIâve barely touched you and youâre this wet already?â
Before you can answer Tim used two fingers to spread your slick folds apart and delivers a sharp slap right where youâre most sensitive, blue eyes unblinking, soaking in your reaction.
Despite knowing from the way your back arches and your eyes roll back, Tim asks; âDid you like that baby, do you want more?â
Roy
Your body is like target practice to Roy, which is to say; he never misses.
Roy has every inch of you ingrained in his mind. Teasing, and touching, and getting you off is as easy to him as firing his bow, its muscle memory.
Not once does Roy need to break away from your needy, heated kisses as he undresses you. Thereâs not a thought in his head other than how hot you look when youâre dishevelled and riled up as he unhooks your bra or curls his fingers on your core.
Roy brags that he could find your clit, one-handed and blindfolded, and sometimes he likes to put that into practice. He tells you to âLay back, Princess.â Then he closes his eyes, makes a show of spinning around or pretending to sniff you out and then he spanks your clit with the kind of powerful precision only he could possess.
Timothy Drake / Red Robin
- Watching the sunset -Fluff
- Escalation - Spicy
- Impromptu Date Night - Spicy
- Pet names - Fluff
- The early bird - Spicy
- Benefits of marriage - Fluff
Dick Grayson / Nightwing
- General HC's - Miscellaneous
- Thinking of Arkhamverse Dick - Spicy
- Pet names - Fluff
Jason Todd / Red Hood
- Sometimes it's an inconvenience other times - Spicy
- General Hc's - Miscellaneous
- Pet names - Fluff
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YES except itâs a super fancy expensive version cause of course it is. He probably had a phase (before his whole baby stalker thing I think) where he wanted to be an archeologist like his parents SO bad! And so they got him one of these and then he probably did what you did and threw it in a bag đ
He COULDâVE taken his time but he decided he didnât want to solely cause he didnât have to. And his parents werenât around to see him do it, if they were they would have a heart attack and chew Tim out. But no they were gone so he threw it in a bag and smashed it to get it out and then he cleaned up the bones a bit and just reveled in the praise he got when his parents got home. They donât need to know how he got it out.