whatever

You were beyond scared of getting one. You knew exactly why too, losing your virginity had not been nearly as fun as all your friends made it out to be, sex hurt. When you told your girlfriends this they looked at you a little funny and asked maybe he didn’t do it right, it wasn’t exactly supposed to be painful, not the whole time anyway. So you did a few experiments of your own, cause maybe they were right and the guy just i don’t know did it wrong?

You bought a toy, a not too big but average to smaller sized dildo, online as going in store was too much to handle. And one night when your college roommates were out, you tried using it but it hurt just the same, you even tired just using your fingers but that wasn’t much better. From then on for years, you avoided sex as much as you could. All subsequent boyfriends who managed to persuade you into it just told you it'd be “Much better with me trust me baby” and it never really was. 

When you bring it up to one of your friends again, they point something out that you had been trying to avoid thinking of. “Hey, isn't one of your dads friends a doctor or something? Why haven’t you asked him about it?” oh that guy. Yeah the one you are kinda a little too attracted to who’s not just your fathers friend but his best friend, who makes your brain short circuit each time he calls you sweetheart? That one. Yeah you’d rather not talk about how sex is painful to the older man, who is the closest person to your father. You just might have to though if you ever wanna actually enjoy sex in your life. 

When you see Jack a few days later for your dads weekly dinner night he hosts, you manage to pull him away telling your dad it’s private girly medical related questions, he shuts up shortly after that. 

“What's up kid you okay?” Jack asks, concern evident in his voice. You rarely asked him anything medical and he was a bit worried you’re about to ask him how long is it normal for a woman to go without getting her period. “How…” you squeak out. Oh god here it comes. Before you start again you clear your throat. “How um common is, you know pain during sex…” the word sex leaves your lips in a meek and quiet tone, Jack tries his best not to chuckle as to not embarrass you further, but he’s happy it's not the question he was expecting. “Pretty common kid, at least the first time” he explains calmly, his casual demeanor easing your anxiety only a bit. “And how about every time?”

The idea of you having sex multiple times shouldn't be making Jack's chest ache the way it is, you’re a young beautiful girl after all, he tries telling himself it’s only cause it’s apparently painful and he cares for you. This time he straightens up a bit, “if the guys aren’t being rough, it's less common, it shouldn’t be every time” he watches as your eyes go a little wide and shake your head no in response to the first half of his statement. “Have you had an exam lately kid?” This is a purely professional question so it shouldn’t feel as dirty as it does coming out of his mouth.

“I um normally cancel them” Jack can only sigh out in a bit of frustration. “You should really get them regularly sweetheart” he misses the way your thighs lightly squeeze together at the use of the nickname. “I’m scared s’ all, anything going um inside hurts and doctors offices only make me more nervous” you explain. He smooths a hand over your hair, sympathy lacing his voice. “it’s okay i don’t mean to make you feel bad about it kid i swear” “How-” he stops himself, his eyebrows furrowing as if he was debating something in his head. “What?” you prompt, trying your hardest to not buckle at the knees from the way he’s practically petting your head. Physical touch is a quite rare thing between you too minus a few hugs on birthdays or pats on the back. “How about I give you one?’ oh sweet jesus that sounds wrong. He clears his throat, his face a little flush now at his own words but he doesn’t backtrack. “I’m a doctor, that you know, so it’s less scary” “No appointment needed if that makes you more comfortable” as you are processing his words he continues on. “I could do it at your apartment, where ever you feel most comfortable”

Your throat shouldn't feel as dry as it does, but the idea of Jack examining your pussy makes your head spin and slick settle between your legs a little. Maybe you should just see a regular random doctor, not one you have a wildly inappropriate crush on. You leave him with a small “Thank you, I'll think about it” and run off with the excuse of using the bathroom. You leave before Jack that night without much of any goodbye to him, he tries not to dwell on it, he really hopes he didn’t upset you.

You however dwell for days on Jack’s suggestion. Without the underlying nerves you feel because of being attracted to him, it is a good idea. You’d feel far more comfortable, maybe too comfortable being examined by him rather than a doctor you hardly know. You don’t bring it up to anyone as you’re too embarrassed but you think about it for days. When you get a reminder for the last gyno appointment you were brave enough to make, you cancel it without another thought and text Jack. 

All he does is thumbs up your message but for the next few hours you are anxious as all hell while waiting for him to knock on your door. You had given yourself the time both to calm down but also clean your apartment. Even though he was literally coming over to give you a vaginal exam and wouldn't care what your place looked like, you wanted it to be neat. Even if this was going to be probably the weirdest event in your life to date.

You are startled out of your train of thought by a knock at the door, you glance at the clock — 3pm exactly. Damn older men and their punctuality or was it a doctor thing? Shaking your head you nervously make your way to open the door, greeting Jack with a little awkward wave. He chuckles softly, the sound calming you as you step back from the open door to invite him in. “It’ll be alright, i’ll be gentle kid” his voice runs over your skin leaving behind goosebumps. You don’t know what you’re more nervous over, the expected pain of the actual examination or, the idea of Jack's hands on you, his fingers in you. 

Without wasting much time Jack settled into a semi professional but still comforting balance as he puts down the small bag of stuff he needs on the floor of your living room. You appreciate his effectiveness, as he tells you to sit on your couch facing him. You listen and watch as he sits on top of your coffee table. “This will be a little awkward because we are here and not a hospital, so I don't have a few things sweetheart” he starts to explain. “The no gown won’t be too hard, you have a skirt on so if you could just take off your underwear i can have access without-” he paused a moment as if thinking “leaving you too indisposed” the way he snaps a pair of blue latex gloves on shouldn’t be making as wet as it is, fuck. 

“Can-” you stutter out, your face hot but he seems to pick up on what you’re asking, nodding softly he turns his head away to give you some semblance of privacy. Bunching up your skirt you hook your fingers into the waistband of your slightly soaked panties and pull them down your legs. You kick them under the coffee table so they’re out of sight and tap Jack on the shoulder, he shakes his head softly at your shyness before turning to face you again. 

“Put your feet up either side of me on the table, won’t be the same as stirrups but close enough” tugging at the end of your skirt to cover yourself a bit more you do as he says and place your feet up flat on the low table. He adjusts them slightly, grabbing your foot one at a time and slides them a bit so they are more half off not so far back. “Scooh more to the edge of the couch kid, lean back ‘n tilt your hips up a lil more f’ me” the way you listen so well to Jack has him smiling softly at you and muttering out a small “Atta girl” 

He pressed lightly around on your abdomen through your shirt and skirt, eyes glued to your face gauging your reactions. “No pain or tenderness when I do this, right?” when you shake your head no he stops. “My hand is gonna go under your skirt for a second okay?” your face grows hotter and you nod, your voice has yet to find you again but so far nods are an effective enough communication with him. He reaches down between your legs but only presses around again, this time he is much closer to your pussy but he remains on the outside, pressing over the mound of it and on your pubic bone. “No pain?” Once again your head shakes side to side. His hand pulls away, your eyes follow his movements as he reaches down to grab a small bottle out of his bag.

He holds it but doesn’t do anything with it yet, his eyes find yours again “This next part i have to put my fingers inside, that okay sweetheart?” you gulp softly, nodding yes slowly as your nervousness grows again. “That’s the part that us- usually hurts” you explain in a small voice. It’s Jack's turn to nod now, "Penetration?” you let out a ‘mhm’ in agreeance as he squeezes the clear substance onto his pointer finger. “This is lube to make it easier and I’ll go slow, only one finger” his other hand reaches around your leg to touch the back of your calf, rubbing soothing lines up and down the muscle. “If you’re relaxed it might not be as painful” he explains, waiting on your go ahead before reaching down under your skirt once again. 

Pushing his lube coated index finger through your folds the tip of it finds your entrance, he gauges your face, when you nod again he proceeds by pushing it inside. 

Your sharp intake of air makes him stop once only the first bend of his finger is inside. “Come on, relax f’ me sweetheart” his low honey dipped voice makes your body go a bit lax, he inches his finger forward again and when you show no sign of pain he goes all the way til it's completely inside. “How’s that kid?” he sounds as breathless as you feel but you try to ignore it. “A little pain” you squeak out. “Give it a second, relax and it might go away”

“Don’t know how to relax more” you whine out, the sound going straight down Jack’s spine and up again, he shivers a bit and wills it away before it travels further south. “I’m gonna try something…do you trust me sweetheart?” you’re already nodding again in response before he fully finishes his question. 

Bringing his thumb up he parts the lips of your pussy til it finds your clit. You gasp out and slightly scare him, “That hurt?” “No no m’ sorry surprised me is all” you mumble out, biting your lip to hold in any more noises from getting free, like an accidental moan. Jesus christ why did you think this was a good idea again? If you had to bet you’d say you were soaking his gloved finger, even with the sting you felt from it inside, it felt good at the same time. You never even reached this type of feeling with your own fingers.

His thumb on your clit presses down lightly and starts rubbing in circles, you let out a small little sigh that makes Jack smirk a bit. “There you go honey, come on” “Un-tense your shoulders” your body listens almost instantaneously “Good girl” you can’t help the whimper that comes out at his words, he doesn’t say anything in response. “Feel any better?” he prompts, his eyes remain on your face, no matter how bad he wants to peek under your skirt to watch the way your little bud twitches under his touch. “Mhmm a bit” you answer softly, trying to push away the odd feeling bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Can I put in another finger, we’ll see how that feels?” he whispers, he definitely has enough information that he thinks he knows what’s wrong already but you don’t need to know that. “Yeah” you pant out, shaking your head a little too eagerly, if Jack notices he doesn’t say a word. With ease his middle slips in alongside his pointer, his thumb still circling your clit. “No pain honey?” the motion of your head once again answers his question. “Wanna try something else…can I move my fingers sweetheart?” 

“Please” you plead, head to fuzzy to care how desperate you sound. Slowly pulling his fingers back he watches your face as he pistons them back in, repeating the motion. “That feel good?” “Mhm no pain, fuck! feels really good” you whine out, your hips now bucking up against his fingers. He speeds up, still waiting to see if it hurts or if you stop him. “Jack” you moan out, his cock throbs in response. 

“Yeah kid?” “Need- Mm” you cut yourself off, pinching your lips in a line and tilting your head back. “Nuh-uh come on honey, tell me what ya’ need” he prompts, curling his fingers up to hit a different spot inside you that has you letting out a pornographic noise you didn’t know you were even capable of. “Need-” you huff out, before he stops you “Look at me when you say it, come on kid” “Use your words”

Lifting your head you look into Jack’s eyes, his breath hitches at the sight of your glazed over lust filled eyes, batting your eyelashes you start again. “Need more” you sob. His stomach just about hurts now from how hard he is in his jeans that feels all too tight. “Yeah? What more honey? Another finger or something else?” he asks, consciences be damned he’s not gonna leave you hanging even if your old man would fucking kill him if he ever found out about this. “Somethin’ else please” you whine, not even knowing what more you want. Jack however seems to when he takes his free hand off your calf and lifts your skirt, his head ducking under it. His fingers don’t stop positioning in and out of your slick cunt even if you squeal a bit at his motion. The noise morphes into a moan, your body melting into the couch when his warm tongue pokes out and makes contact with your pussy, licking at your pussy. “Still feel good kid?” he mumbles out, before his thumb leaves your bundle of nerves only to be replaced by his mouth as he sucks at it. 

“Yeah- Yeah feels s’ good” you breathe out, letting go of your skirt, he grabs at your one leg, lifting your foot off the table placing it over his shoulder, prompting you to do the same with your other before his fingers slip out of your pussy. 

You whine at the loss, “Jackkk” making him chuckle softly against you. “Hang on sweetheart” he coos as he uses both hands to grab at your hips, pulling you up and half way off the couch to get you closer to his mouth, lapping at you hard splitting your folds with his pointed tongue before sucking at your clit. “Ah- Ahhh ooh fuck” you wail out, your hands frantic to steady yourself. One finding purchase on his shoulder before sliding down his back under his shirt where your nails scratch at his skin. The other holding on for dear life to the edge of your couch cushion, your legs tighten a bit around his head. 

“Holy shit” you whisper out in breathless disbelief, the odd feeling from before coming back to quickly build in the pit of your stomach. Jack's large hands cupping your waist squeeze at your flesh, as he shakes his head side to side a little, flattening his tongue against you. Your thighs burn a bit at the friction of his stubbly face rubbing against them. He moves back to harshly sucking at your clit, your pussy and his mouth coated in his spit as he practically slurps at your juices.

“Huu- shit” “Wait wait! Jack- mhm feels like m’ gonna pee” you try pushing at his head to stop him, even if you desperately didn’t want his mouth off you. That feeling in your stomach was teetering on the edge. “Ya’ don’t have to pee sweetheart, that’s a orgasm you feel” he grumbles out, the explain making your hand ease up from pushing instead it rakes through his curls “S’ okay cum for me kid” 

“Promse s’ okay” you whine out, staring down at his head between your legs. “Yeah, you can do it” “cum f’ me it’s okay honey” "Promise it’ll feel good, no pain” his reassure is all you need to let your high wash over you, legs shaking on his shoulders, “There we go, fuck” he moans out. Your back arching as you cum on his tongue with a loud wanton moan filling your apartment coupled with his praise, “Atta girl, sweetheart” “Such a good girl f’ me” he laps at your cum. “Taste so fucking sweet, like i knew ya’ would” he mumbles out, that one you think was meant more for himself.  

Managing to reluctantly pull his head from between your soft thighs, Jack used his hold on your hips to place your body back onto the couch. You stare at him wide eyed when you notice his face all wet, covered in you. “Got somethin’ on my face kid?” you nod meekly. He chuckles and pinches at the collar of his shirt to bring it up and wipe at his mouth. “No pain after?” he asks. “No, never done that before” you whisper out, flicking your head down to where your skirt now covered your puffy but satisfied pussy. 

“Just needed an older man huh sweetheart, help ya’ relax a little and the pain melts away” he states, reaching down to rub at your knee. “Fucking little boys” he tsks but your eyes are glued to the large bulge in between his thick thighs. You’d have to be extra relaxed to take that monster on…

CHAPTER ONE — NINE ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ completed ⊹ ࣪ ˖ act one follows the reluctant tension-filled evolution of jack abbot and a quiet, anxious morgue tech. it begins with exhaustion, mutual annoyance, and an unfortunate first impression. it ends ( temporarily ) in confessions, broken rules, and hands brushing too long by the trauma bay sink and a single earth shattering kiss. best read in descending order for understanding!

⟢ cold and predictable ⟢ cold storage ⟢ a cold shoulder

⟢ too cold to touch ⟢ cold cut ⟢ caught in the cold

⟢ cold hands ⟢ left out in the cold ⟢ let in from the cold

CHAPTER TEN — NINETEEN ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ongoing ⊹ ࣪ ˖ act two follows post-confession. you’ve admitted too much. jack’s heard too much. and yet neither of you knows what to do with the silence that follows. you keep pretending. he keeps showing up. the hospital keeps getting hotter. best read in descending order for understanding!

⟢ heat source morgue notes - 001

⟢ heat on contact morgue notes - 002

⟢ after the heat ⟢ heat in your hands

⟢ the sound of heat morgue notes - 003

⟢ held in heat ⟢ heat flash ( coming soon )

⟢ heat bitten ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 004

⟢ heated words ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 005

⟢ heat of the moment ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 006 morgue notes - 007 morgue notes - 008

˚₊‧ 𐙚 THE APPENDIX ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NIGHT SHIFT — MORGUE NOTES ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part one ˚₊‧ 𐙚 part two ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part three ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *pet names from jack ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *pet names for jack ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *catching print ˚₊‧ 𐙚 age vs maturity ( coming soon ) ˚₊‧ 𐙚 ask me ( coming soon )

“Shushhhh” Robby’s lips softly blew air over the baby girl's strawberry blonde hair wisps, her face red and flushed with infant anger. Her big chubby leg rolls rippled as she hiccuped and sobbed, her father sitting over on the couch, prosthesis cast aside while his elbows rested on his knees. His palms dug into his eyes…

A week of this, a week of no sleep and a screaming baby who Jack (embarrassingly) still hadn’t gotten around to naming. Simply left outside of his apartment door with a note from a conference fling from the summer of last year. As if the hair wasn’t enough of a tell tale sign of his paternity, the baby's stubbornness was enough of a confirmation. “She has some lungs on her…” Robby carefully bounced the baby girl in his arms, flinching as she screeched into his ears. 

Eventually the sobs and screams hushed down into small hiccups, a little burp escaping her tiny cupid’s bow as her puffy eyelids sealed shut. A sigh of relief escaped the two men as Robby lowered himself onto the couch, the baby still had that newborn scrunch as she stayed snuggled up on the man’s chest. His large burly hands turned innocent to touch as it rested on the baby’s back. 

“I’m sorry for calling you on your day off brother…” Jack groaned, easing back into the leather couch with a grunt as his residual limb throbbed. 

“It’s alright…” he pressed a kiss to the crown of baby Abbot’s head “You know I love the slugger…” Robby’s hand rubbed up and down her back soothing her deep into sleep with a content little noise.

“Perlah told me to sign up to one of those…mommy and me…support classes…” Jack’s eyes flickered between his little girl and Robby's, never losing the deep look of care. 

“It’s not the worst idea…” Robby’s head leaned back onto the pillow behind him, head tilted towards Jack. “when are you sleeping…?”

A snort escaped Jack, “You’re funny. I’ll sleep when I’m dead”

“Well the way you’re going right now that doesn’t seem all too far away…” Robby scoffed, playfully tugging at Jack’s shirt to gain his attention “Go to bed jack…shower, have a nap…” Robby’s brows furrowed, concern etched into every feature of his face. no… love. “This girl needs her dad…and a name sometime soon.”

“I know” he groaned, standing with his crutches as moving towards the bathroom. 

…..

A day later Jack was in a position he never thought he would be, at least not on his own. Occasionally glancing back in the rearview mirror at the baby girl innocently laid in the carseat completely dead to the world. With the amount of work Jack had done over the last 15 years in that goddamn ER he had enough vacation, PTO and sick days to allow him to stay off and take care of his own “Personal business” as he had described it to Gloria. He pulled into the parking lot of the church, eyes bearing into his baby girls the second the car stopped. 

“Hi little lady…you ready?” her eyes opened, drool collecting on her lips, Jack couldn't help but smile at the sleepy look. “Daddy’s going to embarrass himself…” he slung the baby bag over his shoulder before moving to the trunk to unfold the stroller as his baby girl made little squeaks. “Lets home Daddy can get his stroller to- shit- sorry- fuck- i-” his hands went back over his eyes. “I need to stop cursing in front of you…”

“It’s okay…they can’t understand anything at this age…” Jack turned to see you, stood in a halo of sunlight, a baby carrier strapped over your chest while a baby paws up at your cheeks. “You could uh…use a hand?” you giggled, gently unfolding the stroller with a now practiced ease.

“Sorry I’m just a new dad…” you carefully moved around into his car to unbuckle the car seat, she shushed completely as she moved into your arms staring up at you sleepily. 

“She’s adorable…what's her name…?” you spoke gently as your son pawed over at the baby girl curiously. 

“Uh…” his mind scrambled, struggling to admit he hadn’t named her yet, fuck he’d only had her a week and what if her mom already named her and he did it wrong and- “Josephine” it was the first name that came to mind. “Josie…” it has been his wife's name, he couldnt tell if that was fucked up or not. 

“That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” you carefully placed her down in the stroller with a grin. “I’m assuming you’re also heading to the mommy and me class…kind of a restrictive name now i’m realising it- just- sorry- uh- the dad usually never comes along…” you sighed looking at the tan line around where your wedding room used to sit. 

“Well it’s…it’s just me…” Jack forced a small smile looking down at the baby as the two of you took off to walk across the street to the church. 

“No judgement here…just me and georgie here” you pressed a kiss to George's bucket hat as he happily played in his carrier, occasionally pulling at your top as you huffed. 

“Dad not in the picture?”

“Oh his dad is definitely in something” Jack couldn’t help the snort that escaped him as you released your lip from your teeth to laugh. “God…leaving your post-partum wife for some 19 year old…” you huffed barely being able to believe your son came from someone as vile as your soon-to-be ex husband. “I’m-” you looked over at him, his face stoic and angry “god- i’m sorry thats a lot to put on a stranger.”

“He sounds like an absolute asshole…” Jack opened the door for you to step into the church as you gestured directions to the mommy and me room. “I’m more annoyed at your husband- or ex?”

“That is if he’ll sign the divorce papers…” you groaned as you led him in, not oblivious to the stares of the women around the room. You settled down into the beanbag as Jack stood in front of it with tense eyes. “What's wrong?” you watched as Jack tugged up his pantleg to show his prosthesis. You unstrapped George and placed him on the playmat “watch him” you groaned as you stood, body aching from carrying around a 16 pound 3 month old.

“You don’t have to-” you placed Josie down onto the playmat carefully while placing the stroller aside, putting two arms out to jack to help him down onto the beanbag, creating your own body as a frame for him to sit. 

“You can take it off if that would make you more comfortable?” you hummed as he landed with a grunt. Jack's eyes tracked over you. It would be embarrassing to admit that this was the first human contact he had had outside of the emergency room or SWAT in far too long. He’d refused accommodation for so long he forgot people offered it. He pulled up the pant leg to remove it but left his covering on, not quite ready for that move. 

“I see some new faces today…” the instructor cheered as she bounced around, immediately having to back your eyes from rolling.  “Let's start with you!” she pointed towards you, you spoke your name before shyly introducing Georgie to a cacophony of cooing. 

“I’m…I’m jack abbot” his eyes fixed on you, begging for reassurance before continuing. “This is Josephine…shes about…a month and a half…” he hummed. The woman joked about his marriage status, seeing the same tanned line that was around your own finger. 

Your eyes stayed fixed on the way George investigated Josie, gently pawing at her too big baby clothes which you’d assumed someone had given to Jack in a jam. You grinned as Georgie smiled up at you, something he had been doing more and more lately as Josie began to fuss slightly. You nudged Jack with your elbow before he picked her up and sniffed her diaper. “Yup-” he groaned as his face scrunched “thought so”

You giggled and stood, placing Georgie next to one of his other friends while Jack fitted on his prosthesis back on and got your help to stand before you kneeled to lift Josie while Jack grabbed the bag. “Wow…the two of you really are a team aren’t you?” you flustered at Annie’s words (Annie being one of the other mums) rolling your eyes as you supported Josie’s head, "when's the wedding?”

“Never again.” Both of you spoke in unison, heads snapping to each other with a zap. A zing. 

“Are you good to go to the bathroom or do you need my help?” you questioned jack, a sly smile on his face about how it sounded without context. You handed Josie over to him with his prompting.

“I’ll try not to fall in…” he grinned and strolled off to the bathroom as you sat back down into the beanbag. Immediately having a plushy thrown at you as he left the room-

“What was that for!?” you giggled placing bluey back down on the play mat where the babies messed around. 

“You swooped in on ‘doctor tall, dark and handsome’ before any of us could get a look at him!” 

“Most of you are married okay- also I’m just helping him out his wife just left or something-” you huffed suddenly becoming hyper aware of everyone around you staring into your soul. “Poor thing couldn’t even unfold the stroller-”

“Bet he could fold you-” you launched the plushy back at Annie while some of the women cackled or covered the babies ears. You got lost in the laughter until your eyes caught on one shirtless Jack Abbot peaking his head through the doorway. 

“I’m gonna go check on him…” you stood quickly rushing out the door with a hand over your mouth as you made it into the hall. 

“Stop laughing- I thought girls were the ones that didn't excrete onto you!” Jack whispered as he held Josie in his old t-shirt.

“You didn’t pack back ups?” you giggled as you ushered him back into the bathrooms before you scavenged through the diaper bag. “Oh god Jack…” you sighed seeing how gravely undersupplied he was, your eyes snapped back up to him swearing you could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Put the baby down…” you pointed at the changing mat.

He gently put Josie down, you tried to ignore the probable poop smeared all over him and gave him a hug. You felt the tears wet your shirt as he folded inwards. “Why am I so bad at this…?” his voice was low and scratchy as he nuzzled in. He didn't care that you were strangers, all that he cared about was that a human being was showing him real and intense care. 

“You’re not….you’re not bad….” your hand went to his curls “it’s all new and you’re doing this alone…we all feel shit in the beginning- being a single parent fucking sucks…” you sighed rambling on and on until he soothed and quiet settled over the two of you. 

“Hey um…” he spoke your name softly and you looked down. A whole shirt soaked with breast milk as a long whine escaped you, “i’m sorry i think it’s because I cried-” he pulled toilet paper and wipes desperately trying to clean your shirt as you grinned. 

“It’s fine Jack…I’m going to grab my diaper bag and maybe I have some old spares that fit her…but Georgie has always been a big kid- maybe you can um- call someone to bring you new clothes.” you rushed out doing a quick run into the room and being able to borrow a strawberry shortcake onesie that one of the other babies had grown out of, yet, no spare t-shirts to be seen. 

You moved back to the bathroom with the bag and managed to clean the little girl up, showing Jack to do the same before placing Josie back in the room with the rest of the mums to keep watch so Jack could have a break. You both sat on the floor of the bathroom staring at each other while waiting for one of Jack's friends to come supply clean clothes. 

“I never asked…how come you’re a single parent…? IF you don’t mind me asking…” you sighed, staring at the broken down exhausted man, trying not to distract yourself with his huge freckled pecks. 

“um…Josie is a result of a one night stand and- her mom- she apparently couldn't handle it…and dumped her on me last week….” your eyes blew as wide as saucers.

“A week? A week?” you gasped crawling over the floor to sit by his side, his head weighed down onto your shoulder. 

“I have a feeling we’re going to be involved in each other's lives for a while…” Jack sighed with a small smile on his face, the doorknob rattled and another fucking handsome guy stood waiting in the doorway. “This is um- this is my best friend Robby or Michael…” Jack introduced you using a support bar to stand up. 

“Hi Robby or Michael….” your arms went over your shirt trying to hide the mess you’d made. 

“It’s okay we’re both doctors, nothing we haven't seen before…” Robby handed Jack the extra t-shirt before handing one to you as well. “We’ll leave you be for now so you can change.” Robby's hand patted your shoulder, every part of your body stalling for a few seconds. You nodded as the door shut, tugging off the milk soaked tee and replacing it with an oversized shirt that smelled of spruce and mint. It was a dusty green with ARMY printed over the front.

You stepped out seeing the two men deep in conversation that immediately seized when you stepped out, Jack’s hand stopped moving mid air. “How about we blow this joint…?” you giggled walking back towards the room to pick up the kids, getting Robby’s help to get the kids back into their strollers and carries and out to the cars getting QUITE the looks from the other ladies. 

…..

From that day it was pretty much history, it was a rarity to see the three of you separated from one another outside the hospital, you had created quite the system. You worked from home, so there was never much of a need for childcare, which worked perfectly for Jack as everything in your apartment doubled, baby bottles, bouncers, clothes. You’d take Josie from 6pm to 8am when Jack would pick her up or alternatively, Jack would come over and simply sleep in your apartment's guest room while George slept with you and Josie with Jack. 

Mike was the perfect uncle, to both kids, constantly babysitting when one or the other needed a break. The three of you had sworn this was a specifically and solely platonic deal, the perfect balance maintained over the first 7 months of Josie’s life- until the first night something went a little bit off. 

It was a night where it was just Josie, George and you, which meant dinner and bed seamlessly almost all of the time. You sang to the giggling happy babies, now far more aware and animated than they used to be. Josie had just turned 6 months while George closed in on 10. The spoon over the stove being your microphone as some random dad rock from the spotify playlist you jack and robby had created (one conveniently under the family plan). 

As you spun your hand banged off the pot, boiling water falling fully over your upper body- a painful scream escaping your lips as the babies howled with their own. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” you slipped as you ran towards the bathroom with phone in hand, both babies secured in their highchairs as you crawled into the bathtub and turned on the cool shower water. “SIRI CALL ROBBY!”

The phone rang twice before Robby's voice crackled over the speaker “whats wrong? You never usually call at this time-” your screaming cries cut him off and the sound of his sheets ruffling gave away his haste. “WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE THE BABIES OKAY!?”

“It burns Mikey it all fucking burns!” you sobbed out as Mickey turned on the ignition of his car swerving down streets to the apartment. It felt like hours when he finally broke down the door, paramedics on his tail as he rushed to the babies, checking them over and seeing the state of the kitchen. 

“Oh my god…” he petted back the babies' heads inspecting them for any trace of injury, nothing more than the red puffy face and ginger curls of Josie and the wet cheeks and dark hair and thick hair of George. He carefully moved them from the high chairs into their play pens and ran into the kitchen. “Oh god-” his hands went to his head as the paramedics stripped you of the hot burned clothes, welts and blisters down your front as you went faint. “It’s me- i’m here- i’m here- it’s Robby-”

“What's your relationship to the patient-” a paramedic questioned as robby helped hold you up under the water.

“I’m-” his eyes scanned your blurry ones, searching for a word that fit “- her partner- I’m her partner-” he helped carry you out of the bath and onto a stretcher. He held your cheeks as they moved you into the living room “you got burned really badly okay? So we’re going to take you to the hospital…” his thumbs pet over your red cheeks, his lips connecting to your forehead as you began babbling.

“Are the babies okay? What about the babies- i was supposed to look after them I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry…”

“shhhhh shhhhh shhh” Robby’s lips pressed to the corner of your lips not quite a real kiss, he wouldn't want it to be like this- with you hurt like this. “I’m gonna take them to the hospital alright? You be good with the paramedics-” he had to hold back the gag from the appearance of the burns all over your torso and legs, the legs being the worst where you’d been wearing shorts. His lips pressed to your forehead as you spluttered out more ‘I’m sorrys’ and robby replied with “it’s okay baby”

As soon as you left Robby pressed his phone between his ear and shoulders putting the babies into the car seats which all of you now had fitted into your car. He secured them both in with their now joint baby bag as Jack picked up. “What are you doing up at this time-?”

“Don’t panic-” 

“Okay never say that- telling me not to panic will immediately make me panic-” Jack’s chest immediately tightened hands gripping around the phone until they were white. “Is it the kids- is it honey? - please- please robby-”

“She had an accident-”

“Fuck-” his voice wavered as ellis and lena perked up watching him with a concerned glare “are- what happened are they sending her here?”

“Yeah- yeah- she um-” his hand drew down his face as he turned around the streets the two babies still crying in the background “she spilled a pasta pot- of b-boiling water- down her front- second and third degree burns, third on her legs- mostly- um- it was bad- it was really bad-” Robby’s voice cracked painfully as he sped down the streets with as much restraint as possible. 

Just as he finished the sentence the case was pulled into the ER, Jack dropped his phone, Lena grabbed it as he ran to your gurney, seeing the peeling of your skin and the agony on your face. “I’m here- i’m here Honey i’m here…” jack’s lips pressed to your forehead as you hiccuped, tilting your chin up. “I know it hurts, it does- I know…”

“Nghh-” you whimpered “the babies- my babies-”

“Yes honey our babies are fine- they’re fine-” he kissed the corner of your lips the opposite one to robby, together they would have made a full kiss. “Robby is coming okay?”

“Who- since when do you have children-?” Shen questioned as he rolled you into a bay “who is this Abbot-”

“My partner-” 

“They said the partner found her at the scene with paramedics-”

“That was robby-”

“Then whose the partner you know you will see her regardless-” 

“We are- we are all partners!” Jack snapped “me and robby, robby and her, me and her- all of us okay?!” He was shaking as Robby rushed into the nursing bay with two babies in their carseats. 

“Where- where is she-” Robby placed the babies with Lena and sprinted towards you, his arms went to Jack immediately as Jack held him back, pulling him into a deep hug. He placed a kiss on the other man’s shoulder as he shook violently. 

“Shes-” your sobs broke though as they inspected the injuries.

“Mikeyyy- jackkk-” you whimpered as they moved to pet back the hair on your hairline. “It hurtttsss” your back arched as the doctors tried to hold you down.

“We’re here- we are okay the babies are safe.” Robby kissed a tear off your cheek. Jack’s hand grasping yours, “there's gonna be a sharp scratch okay…?” jacks forehead pressed into yours as they placed the IV much to your dismay. “They’re gonna take away the pain baby…” he pressed his lips to the tip of your nose. 

You’d become accustomed to this kind of affection, it was never a conversation, instead it was a simple rhythm. People often talk about falling in love at first sight, in truth you had considered it maybe happened in the bathroom of the church with Robby, or maybe it was watching Jack fumble with the stroller. But no, it was platonic, at least to a degree in the start, then it gradually relaxed and settled, as if you were falling through clouds gently being ushered down each bump. But here, the men who protected and cared for you, two men who were essentially the fathers of their child. You often joked that in losing one husband you’d overcorrected and provided your son with two dads. 

Now they were more than dads, or friends, they were protectors, comforts. Gradually the doctors filtered out, you got transferred to the burns unit. For the rest of your care but that in no way stopped the two men from seeing you constantly, always bouncing the babies on their hips, sometimes with the nurses or coworkers when you were up to meeting new people. Eventually you were discharged and sent home with a few scars. 

The men each held an arm as you walked into your now apparently shared apartment. Robby and Jack's things strewn around. “We’re gonna need a bigger place…” Robby huffed as he lowered you down onto the couch, playfully pushing Jack over to do the same and kneeling to remove his prosthesis. The babies babbled about in their playpen, you weren't playing much attention instead just whining as robby tried to check your bandages. 

“Stop rob-” you huffed as Jack pressed a long kiss to your jaw, just breathing you in. “wh…what are we?” the men stalled looking up at you as Jack's breath fanned over your cheek. 

“Partners ... p-partners-” Jack's lips reconnected with your jaw, wet and nipping as he went along, eliciting little noises out of you as robby scoffed, finally removing the lining and sitting on your other side. 

“We love you…we love each other…we love the kids…that's all we need” robby hummed, taking advantage of the position of your jaw to gently press a kiss to your lips. A little hum escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. He nipped at your lower lip before moving to switch off with Jack, his hand carefully wrapping around his neck with a grin as Jack weakly groaned into your mouth. Your eyes flickered open remembering that the kids were in fact in the room and went to pull away when “Oh MY GOD!” you squealed as robby chuckled.

“We’re not that good baby-” 

“NO THE KIDS ARE PULLING UP!” you saw the two toddlers with their eyes on the TV both stood up in their play pen. Jack grinned and grabbed his phone taking photos of the two. RObby leaned into your ear with a grin against the shell “maybe we should make one…3rd times the charm-”

A loud knock on the door woke him up — he groaned as his body protested the movement. It was a hot summers day — the air was thick and sticky and Jack had just managed to fall asleep. He hoped whoever had woken him up needed desperate help.

“Hi” you were standing at his door step smiling.

Jack was now wide awake, looking at the beauty in-front of him.

“Sorry did i wake you?” You said, looking at your watch, confused on why he would be asleep at 1pm.

“No, it’s all good.” Jack cleared his throat, quickly realising his voice was still gravely and half-asleep.

“I live next door”

Jack was now fully locked in and interested. You were the voice.

He tried his best not to look at the short summer dress you were wearing. “I’m Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack.” You smiled shyly as you tried your best not to look at his perfectly shaped chest and abs.

Jack stood there listening to you talk about the new air-con you bought today and what tools you were missing. After not so much insisting, you agreed to let Jack help you set it up.

He threw on a tshirt and followed you into your apartment.

“Jude, we have a guest.”

A small child appeared from the bedroom, standing shyly by the doorframe.

“He’s a bit shy” you said to Jack, “sorry if he asks any ques—“

“What happened to your leg?”

“Yup….” You said quietly. “Sorry.”

“Do you have a favourite superhero, Jude?” Jack asked.

“So many.” Jude replied.

“They all have super powers right?”

He nodded.

“Well mine comes from my leg.”

“So you’re like a superhero?”

“Only during the night” Jack winked.

“Coool!” He finally stepped out of his bedroom. “What’s your name?”

You let out a laugh. Jude never spoke with anyone — the fact that he was talking to Jack was a huge milestone.

Jack helped set up the air-con, Jude of course assisting. You left them to it as you made Jack a cold drink and Jude a snack plate.

“Where’s mine?” Jack teased as he looked at the snacks, then back up at you.

Your face flushed instantly at the way he looked at you. “They’re fruit chips with less than 100 calories per pack. It’s like eating air. Would you like some?”

Jack tipped his head back and laughed. He spent lunch with you and Jude, enjoying the cool air that he desperately needed. You put Jude to bed for his afternoon nap, and went back to find Jack fast asleep on the couch.

Few hours had passed, Jude was now wide awake, but confined to his bedroom because Jack was still still asleep.

“Mom, he’s been asleep for a long time.”

“Shhh baby, maybe he’s tired.” You put one finger over your lips.

Jack felt a set of hands on his cheeks, one poking his nose. He brushed it off, but then felt it again. He opened his eyes slowly and jolted as he realised where he was.

Jude was standing in-front of him, holding a few superhero figurines in his hand. “Jack do you want to play?”

“Uhhhh” Jack sat up slowly looking around. It was dark outside already. “Have I been asleep this whole time?”

“A loooong time” Jude said. “Mom said we can’t have dinner until you’re awake.”

“I’m awake.” Jack smiled.

“Mom!” Jude yelled loudly “can we have dinner now?”

You ran out of the bedroom, embarrassed as you saw Jack now wide awake on the couch next to Jude.

He spent the evening at yours, playing with him, listening to all of his stories that made no sense.

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies at how sweet the interaction was.

It became a regular occurrence — bumping into Jack, him coming over, asking you for something, you asking him for something. It was all innocent but purposeful.

One day it was Jack asking for sugar. He promised he’d bring them back but you insisted it would be fine. He indeed bought you another bag of sugar the next day.

Another day, he asked if your hot water was working.

Different days, different questions.

Until one day, you knocked on his door.

“Would you like to have dinner with us? I made too much pasta” you said.

“I would love that” Jack smiled, feeling his stomach flip and do a dance at the way you stood there smiling widely.

Jude non-stop talked to Jack, and the conversation between them flowed. Given that there was at least a 45 year age gap, Jude seemed to know no difference and Jack was incredibly good with him.

Dinners became a regular occurrence at your apartment, but Jack still found any excuse to be knocking on your door.

One day he asked if Jude wanted to go to the park.

“Sure but I”ll need to give you my car seat”

“Don’t bother, I bought one.”

Butterflies swarmed your chest and you bit down on your lips so you don’t grin. “You got a car seat?”

“If that’s… okay. I thought I can help.. with him.”

Another day you heard him pace around the apartment, and just before he knocked on your door, you opened it.

You smirked at him, “need something Jack?”

“Uh…”

“He’s been asking about you. He’s still awake if you want to read his bedtime story?”

“Yes please” Jack shyly said.

“Jacky!!” Jude jumped out of bed, “you’re here!”

“Hey buddy, let’s get you to bed?”

“Are you staying?”

“For bedtime? Of course”

Jack loved that he came over to your apartment. He loved his relationship with Jude, reading him his bedtime stories, listening to him blabber on about nonsense. It helped you too — taken some pressure off your hands.

You and Jack quickly became good friends; the conversation flowed easily. It helped that he was funny, with a side of flirting but it was all too innocent.

Another day, he knocked on your door. You opened the door, smiling widely, covered in sugar and flour because you had been baking.

“Hey Jack, you just missed him” your tone was as always, happy and excited, but you quickly read Jack’s expression and he wasn’t his usual self. “What’s wrong?”

“It was uh… a bad shift.”

“Come here” you took him in for a hug, and Jack didn’t hesitate to pull you in closely. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just… be here, and be you.”

“Yeah i can do that” you whispered against his chest, “of course I can do that”

It became too obvious at work that Jack had someone in his life but he refused to let anyone know anything. You weren’t ’his girl’, just a friend. Or so he convinced himself.

People caught him checking his phone and smiling to himself a few times. They assumed it was a flirtatious text. But in fact it was mainly pictures of Jude reading his bedtime books that Jack had bought him. Sometimes it was pictures of you and Jude, and Jack found himself staring at the picture, wishing for a tiny bit more with you.

When Jack stepped into a quiet room to answer the phone, people assumed it was a girl calling him. But it was Jude asking for Jack after waking up from a nightmare.

Jack found himself thinking of his little best friend when things got really bad at work. He replayed conversations in his mind, and found a small spark of happiness during terrible situations.

He found himself loving a small human more than anything in the world. And it gave him hope that things do get better.

But how was it he knew that he had loved Jude this much?

You walked into the ER triage, carrying Jude, who had a fall at nursery and cut his head open. You picked him up in a panic, and rushed him to PTMC.

“Hi i was wondering I can see Dr Abbot please?” You said quietly to the woman behind reception. “He’s not expecting us but can you tell him it’s Jude please? I called him a few times but he didn’t pick up.”

The moment Jack heard that you were here, he dropped everything and ran over to triage. Jude, who was covered in blood, was crying and instantly reached out to Jack once he saw him.

“Hey buddy” Jack said, voice breaking, as he looked over at you, “what happened!”

“It hurts Jacky” he cried.

He picked him up and you followed them into the paediatrics room. “I’ll make it all better okay?”

Jack, for the first time in his life, didn’t know what to do. He froze, seeing his little best friend’s face covered in blood, his little cries, his blood on you.

Jack’s voice trembled and croaked as he said, “I’ll uh… I’ll get you something for the pain. And I’ll have to get another doctor to help. The nurse here will help okay?”

Jude sniffed back tears as he muttered an okay. He sat in your lap as another doctor now walked in to help stitch him up.

You kept glancing over at Jack who looked like it was his first time seeing blood. At one point, he turned away as the doctor stitched his head and Jude let out a cry. He then immediately asked to be held by Jack.

“I’m gonna start taking offence soon.” You said to Jack as he swapped places with you.

Jack sat Jude in his lap and wrapped his arms around him as he got stitched up. He carefully lifted his hair off his face, and looked away as Jude continued to wince in pain.

You then had two crying children on your hand, but one of them was a fifty year old man. You put one arm on Jack’s shoulder squeezing it tight as he closed his eyes and tried not to look.

“All done!”

“Thanks Dr King” Jack said with a sigh of relief.

She smiled at you and you returned one back.

“Feeling better?” You asked Jude.

He shrugged.

“Shall we get ice cream after this?”

“I’m gonna need it” Jack lets out a long sigh.

“I was talking to Jude but okay” you teased.

“Can Jack come too?”

“I think he’s working buddy”

“Actually I should have left hours ago.” Jack said quietly as he shifted off the bed, carrying Jude in one arm.

By the time you made it over to the ice cream shop, Jude was fast asleep in the back. So you and Jack sat in the car, eating your ice creams, pretending to ignore the tension that seems to intensify whenever you two are left alone without Jude’s interruption.

“You couldn’t do it could you?” You asked Jack.

“Hm?”

“Stitch him up” you tilted your head at Jude.

“God no” Jack scoffed, “it was terrifying seeing him like. His little sad and bloody face, it was awful.”

You smiled to yourself as you sunk back in the seat.

“What’s so funny” Jack asked raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing”

“No go on, tell me.”

“You just described how a parent would feel like.”

Jack never thought of himself as Jude’s parent. But he thought of himself as being in Jude’s life for a long time.

He found himself feeling happier when he was around you two, feeling lighter, like his troubles would wash away the moment he’d step into your apartment.

—

“Can we call Jack?” Jude asked one evening.

“He’s at work baby, why do you want to call him?”

Jude shrugged.

“We can’t keep interrupting him at work. How about I message him and we’ll wait for his call, okay?”

Jude sat in his chair, frowning and lips pouting, arms crossed over his chest. You frowned then smiled to yourself — he could have only picked up this habit from one person. After texting Jack, he was already video calling you a minute later.

“Don’t panic!” You said quickly.

“That’s exactly what you’d tell someone when something goes wrong.”

You turned the phone over to Jude to show him that everything was okay. “He wants to talk to you but he won’t tell me why.”

“Hey buddy” Jack said.

Jude grabbed the phone and put it closely to his face. “Are you coming over for Christmas?”

“Uh…” Jack.

“We’re making a turkey!” You quickly said, “and of course you’re invited, Jack”

“Then yes I’ll be there!” He said excitedly, “we can open presents together?”

Jude smiled “okay! Are you coming later for bedtime?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Why don’t you pick a book and I can try and guess which one you picked?”

You smiled to yourself as he two of them continue taking to each other.

But when Christmas morning came around, Jack texted you early hours of the morning to say he’s staying late at work. Jude on the other hand, refused to open any presents without Jack. He was on protest all morning, and not even a phone call from Jack would get him to change his mind.

Your turkey was not going to waste, and neither was the presents you bought for the both of them. So you packed up the car with whatever you had cooked, put the grumpy little guy in the car and drove over to PTMC.

You walked into the Pitt, with a Santa hat on your head, and on Jude’s.

Jude stood in the middle of the Pitt and yelled, “Jacky!!!!”

Jack was not excited at first until he counted all limbs and fingers, and saw no blood, he then rushed over.

“Merry Christmas Jack” you said. “We have turkey and presents”

“Merry Christmas gorgeous girl” Jack gave you a kiss on the cheek then picked Jude up.

“Can we open presents now?” Jude asked.

“Of course!” Jack led the way to the family room, and you laid out all the presents and the food. You sat next to Jack, without noticing or over thinking it, leaning into him as he wrapped one arm around you. You gently took his hand in yours as you watched Jude rip his presents open.

You and Jack didn’t need to talk a bout your feelings — it was all too obvious.

“Hey buddy, we’re popping outside for a minute” Jack said as he lead you outside the room. Jude didn’t acknowledge any of what anyone was saying — too distracted and too happy.

“Merry Christmas” he said softly as he gently brushed hair out of your face. “Your presents are at home I promise. But for now I have this.” He pulled out a small mistletoe out of his pocket and put it between the two of you.

“Hmmm” you smirked, “how convenient.”

“You know the rules” Jack tilted his head as he teased.

You wrapped both arms around his neck, “I just need to check one thing… have you been doing this patients all day?”

“No….” He shot you a grin , “but I kept an emergency one on me so I can do… this when I see you.”

You giggled as he leaned and kissed you.

“Merry Christmas Jacky”

When Jack saw you for the first time, he thought he was being pranked. You looked completely out of place, with your baby pink scrub and a yellow flower-shaped hairpin. Like, who wears a pink scrub? He thought nobody was allowed to pick a different colour than the dark blue ones everyone has, but apparently, they made an exception for you. You were way too cute in that, and it became your trademark. So all your cute accessories, hairpins with flowers, cute bows and pens of every colour of the rainbow. At the beginning, he thought you were just that. A pretty girl who wanted to play being a doctor. Boy, was he wrong! He was surprised by your initiative and sharp-witted mind. The brightest and prettiest of your year. And the one who smelled the best. Sometimes it was vanilla, other times coconut. Always a food-scented perfume, and Jack always wondered if you tasted just as sweet as you smelled. Of course, he always felt so bad having those dirty thoughts, but he could not help himself. Especially when you were so sweet to everyone. You always had snacks to share with colleagues, a word of comfort for the patients, and you once bought the Venezuelan janitor a cake for her birthday. Jack felt so bad that in all those Years, he never acknowledged all the staff working at the ER, but you did in a couple of months. You were just so sweet, he wanted to keep you in his pocket all the time.

It became clear to everyone (well, everyone but you!) that Jack had a soft spot for the pretty new resident the day a patient was rude to you, and he wasted no time putting that man back in his place. "You did not have to", you said to him in a whisper once you were left alone. "I don't want people to think I can't stand up for myself". It was one of the rare occasions where Jack did not really know what to say. "'M sorry sweetheart, I just could not help myself", he simply shrugged. You looked at him, and Jack finally saw your eyes soften for him "Well, thank you for having my back. I still appreciated it though", and with that, you gave him a very quick hug.

Hugging was another thing in your agenda. Jack lost count of the times he saw you hugging a patient or a nurse to comfort them, or when you put your arms around Emma and Javadi on nights out. He briefly had the time to put his arms on your hips before you left him alone in the room with his heart doing backflips. From that moment on, he left you doing your things without interfering, but he was always ready to jump in, in case you needed him.

A couple of weeks after the hug, another patient was rude to you. No, not rude. He made a sexual remark, and Jack was already fisting in hand when you turn around and clapped back. "Why would I have to sit on your face? Is your nose bigger than your dick?". The whole room felt silent, and nurses were giggling behind their masks as the man looked down embarrassed, clearly not expecting you to defend yourself like that. Jack thinks that's the moment he completely fell for you. "I am proud of you, sweetheart", he said, trying not to grin. You signed "Well, that's the story of my life. People assume they can just do and say whatever they want just because of the way I look". He felt bad immediately, remembering that he did not take you seriously either the first time his eyes landed on your pink scrub. "You are so much more than a pretty face", he said to her, his hands on her shoulders "And, even if I now know you can take care of yourself, I'll always be there if you need me". Tension could be cut with a knife, and maybe something could have happened if it wasn't for another doctor walking in. "Am I interrupting?" she asked looking at you two staring into each other's souls, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

Something changed. It was like you both needed to feel closer to each other, but still in a way that did not violate HR rules. Sitting next to the other during nights out with the rest of the team, bringing him some food prepared by you as you knew he did not eat well (or not at all), and he ever offered to drive you home once when it was too late, and you could not book an Uber. Once he parked in front of your house, you stayed in the car for a couple of hours just talking and laughing. The idea of inviting him to your flat crossed your mind a couple of times, but you were too shy to ask, and he knew he would have found it impossible to resist you once you locked the door.

You were too deep in your lovely-dovey bubble to remember that your colleagues at the hospital had eyes and ears, and people were questioning the nature of your relationship.

That's what shit it the fan. Or, it happened when Robby asked Jack if you two were fucking. He tried to look confused, "Why would you say that?" and offended, "We are colleagues, it would not be appropriate for us", and finished, cherry on top, with "Plus, I would never sleep with her. I am not even attracted to Y/N". Robby listened in silence and nodded to his bullishits "Okay, sorry for assuming things", and the conversation died. So died a piece of you. You did not mean to eavesdrop on their conversation; you just happened to be behind them. Jack made you feel stupid, naive and unwanted. You knew you liked Jack. But you were also aware of your worth, and no man could ever take that away from you. So, you become distant and cold toward him.

"Good eveningg, sweetheart", he happily chirped the following day as if nothing had happened. As if he did not break your heart and humiliate you in front of your boss. You did not say a word and kept focusing on the laptop. "Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, sweet girl" he approached you, putting his hand on your shoulder to turn you around. "I would appreciate more professionalism from you Dr.Abbott" he could see in your eyes you were hurt, but why? "My name is Y/n, not 'sweetheart', or 'kid', or 'baby girl'. I am a doctor. Just like the rest of the staff". He looked confused, but nodded, taking a few steps back, "As you wish Dr. Y/L/N". You had to look back at your laptop as you felt tears coming out "And this will be our last shift together. I will work during the day from tomorrow". Jack raised an eyebrow "What are you talking about swe-Dr. Y/L/N, you love the night shift, we have always worked well together". "I want to work with someone who respects me". "Have I ever disrespected you?" he asked, and in that moment, he connected the dots. Jack already knew the answer and bit his lower lip "Y/N, you know it's not w-" "Save it, Jack", you replied, still unable to look at him "Just leave me alone, or I'll have to report you to HR".

The shift felt like an eternity, but still, time flew away. You never had a moment alone, and he glanced at you every chance he got. Your eyes never met his gaze, and each time his heart sank a bit more. He knew very well he did not deserve a precious little thing like you, but he could not stand the idea that he had ruined everything and left you hurt.

The hospital was not the same without you around. It felt like Jack could not remember the ER before you arrived. Everything lacked colours, he had less patience with people, and he spent more time on the rooftop by himself. You were so good at avoiding him. He did not see you for three weeks before you appeared in front of him. It was 7p.m., when you were just leaving the hospital, while Jack and Robby were just outside. Robby was the first to notice you and chuckled. "You look very elegant Dr.Y/L/N", he complimented. Jack almost snapped his neck from how fast he turned around and his jaw hit the floor. You were wearing a stunning -and quite short- blue dress and a pair of heels that made your legs look long like highways. "Thank you, Robby", you smiled and tried so hard not to look at Jack. But it was impossible. You had not seen him in weeks, and he looked even prettier with his eyes full of desire scanning your figure. Robby could sense you needed some space, so he excused himself and decided to leave you alone. "Going out?" he asked to break the ice. You nodded, "I have a date", and you wished your words hurt him as much as his hurt you. "Well, I hope he does not screw up like I did", Jack hoped that was enough to make you understand that he wanted you. The only other person he ever desired in that way was his late wife, and he knew he would have never felt that way ever again. He burnt all his chances to be happy like he used to. His words stung, and you felt stupid, again. Stupid for not having let him explain. Stupid for jumping to conclusions (even if it was hard not to). Stupid for going on a date with a random dude when the man you loved was right there. A car honking got your attention "Well, if it's not an idiot, he will not screw up". Jack looked down, a bitter smile on his face "Well, I hope he is the one. You look stunning by the way. Call me if you need me". You wanted to say that you did not need his help, you knew what you were doing, and if you felt like it, you might even end up at his place. Instead, you just nodded and walked towards the car.

It was 3a.m. and you kept tossing around in a bed that was not even yours. The guy next to you was snoring, and you looked at him almost in disgust. It was all so wrong, and you regretted any minutes of it. You started to pack your stuff and slowly walked out of his apartment. You tried to book an Uber, but as it was a Friday, all the rides were either booked or too expensive for your credit card. So, there was only another reasonable option left.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he picked up immediately. "I-I, I want to go home. Can you come and pick me up?" you did not realise until then that you were crying. "Did he hurt you? Send me your location, I'll be there soon. Just, stay safe". And so he did. He rushed outside his car and towards you, who were sitting on the stairs, your face in your hands. "What happened, are you hurt?" he was visibly worried. He spent the whole time driving, thinking about the worst possible scenarios. "Can we just go home?"

The drive too your house was silent. He kept looking at you from time to time to check if you were okay. "Can you stay with me?" you whispered once he parked the car. You were scared he was going to say no, and for a second, he thought it was the best thing. But then Jack looked into your eyes and simply unbuckled your seat belt and opened the door for you Jack insisted you showered first. You did as he said, unable to talk back to remind him you can "take care of yourself", even if he had to pick you up at 3 a.m. on the other side of the city. You climbed into bed, and Jack tucked you in. "Don't leave", you basically begged. He sighed, "You know I can't stay". You understood what he meant: "There is a stool you can use to shower. And the bed is big enough for two people without feeling cramped". Jack looked around, still unsure, trying to think of an excuse not to spend the night there. Surprisingly, he did not find any. "Please, Jack. I need you to be here". He was gone the moment you said those words and agreed to stay. Luckily for him, by the time he was out of the shower, you were already asleep. Yet, he decided to sleep on the sofa.

You woke up in your bed, and a plate of pancakes was by your nightstand. You jumped out of bed, scared that Jack had left already In a second, all your bedsheets were scattered on the floor as you rushed outside the room to check on him, hoping he had not just left. Luckily enough, you found him in your kitchen, humming to himself as he was making breakfast. Of course, he was. Jack was old-fashioned in every way. "Good morning, sweetheart", he greeted you with a smile "How did you sleep?" For a moment, you pretended this was just another typical morning in your life with Jack. Him making breakfast and bringing it to bed as you get ready to go to work. WORK. Your eyes widened when you looked at the clock. "Don't worry. I already took care of that. Said you were sick today" Jack read your mind. "What?" you exclaimed, irritated, "Don't you think people are going to ask questions on why you are the one calling to inform them I am sick? He shrugged and smiled at you, "You know, when a girl asks me to pick her up at night from a bad date, I offer full service, and I also call in sick the next day". The memories of last night resurrected, "I did not even thanked you", you admitted more to yourself than to him. "All I care about is your safety", he said, giving you a glass of orange juice "But you need to tell me what happened, that's the least you could do". You would have rather stick pins in your eyeballs than tell him how your bad date went. But still, you sat down at your kitchen table, him on the opposite side, and told him everything. From the lack of compliments when he first saw you, to splitting the bill and finally how you got back to his place.

Jack was looking at you with an expression you could describe as amused. "Dear God, sweetheart. You have such bad taste in men," he said shocking his head. "Yeah, I think so", you said looking at him, a small smile appearing on your face. He laughed with you, knowing exactly what you were referring to. It was the first decent conversation you had had in weeks, and both missed that. "I guess I just wanted to piss you off", you finally admitted,"I am not sure it worked". Jack opened his arms to welcome you, and you tried not to rush between them "I was just worried once I saw your call", he said holding you close. "I am sorry", you whispered, your voice cracking, showing how honest you were, " I thought you did not want me". Jack chuckled, "Oh, sweetheart", he made sure his eye met yours, "If only the walls of my house could talk".

You looked down, embarrassed. The conversation was heading to a risky road, and you wanted to play your cards right "Yesterday, all I could think of was you. Actually, ever since I joined the ER, I spent my time thinking about… You". He raised an eyebrow and tried not to smirk, as it was quite impossible: "Say more". All the little confidence you built up disappeared under his hungry gaze, his thumbs shaping circles on your hips. You were exactly where he wanted you to be. "You know what I mean", you said, hiding your face in his neck. He pushed you so you could face him again. There was no way out for you. "I want you to tell me". God, he looked so amused. His eyes moved from yours to your lips, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, just to tease. You did not faint, only thanks to his grip on your hips. "I just wish it was your bed and not his", you confessed in a whisper. "Atta girl", he whispered back, and he finally gave in. None of you knew how many times you had imagined kissing the other. He kept you so close to his body, almost afraid you would disappear as your hands wandered on his thick biceps, to his strong shoulders, to his silver curls. Soft like you had always thought. That was just enough to have him moaning in the kiss, especially when you slightly pull his hair. His reaction made you smirk; it truly took you so little to have him moaning in your mouth? Jack did not let you taste victory so easily; he was still older than you, with more experience and more cards up his sleeve to make your legs shake and turn your cheeks red. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked a few inches from your face. It was impossible not to blush again. The power he had over you was something you had never experienced before, and you felt like a virgin again. "Could have been better", you simply said, biting your lip, trying not to say what was really on your mind. But Jack was too cocky to let it slide and grinned again, "That's why you called me in almost tears, uhm? You wished it was me and he even left you unsatisfied?" he was basically mocking you at this point, and it just made you more aroused "You know it would have never happened with me, right?" And it was just the beginning of a long list of profanities.

He never shut up, as he took off your shirt and started kissing your clavicles, then the exposed skin of your chest till your bra. "He had all this to himself and still did not know what to do to you". It was the most intoxicating experience you ever had, his hands were everywhere and so his lips, caressing, kissing and licking every inch of your exposed skin. You were trying to keep up as much as you could, your inexperience showing up. Jack, however, did not mind that you did not know what to do with your hands or the fact that you could not reply to all his provocations. He was loving how responsive you were to his touch and to his words. "I am going to take good care of you, sweetheart. Will you let me, right?", You nodded, and his hands reached your panties "Need to hear you say it".

The feeling of your undies sliding down your legs made you come back to reality "Please, Jack, I want you to take care of me". His jeans were now too tight around him, but all he could focus on was you. In no time, your bra reached your other clothes on the floor, and he devoured your skin. Your head started spinning when his thumb found your most sensitive area, and you almost choked on your moan. "Shhh, relax, sweetheart", he hushed "I need you to be prepared for me". You clung to his arms not to lose your balance as he started to circle your clit. His eyes were on your face the entire time, studying every reaction you had to memorise what you liked and what made you lose your breath. "Jack!" you screamed as he put a finger inside of you without warning you. He was trying so hard not to smile at how sensitive you were to him, filling his ego. "You are doing amazing. I wonder if I can even fit in there. You are struggling with my fingers only," Jack mocked you again as his middle finger entered you. It felt like there was no more oxygen in the room as you were literally gasping for air, his dirty words just adding fuel to the fire inside your stomach. "I'll make it fit", you blurted out, and he just laughed at how desperate you were. His pace sped up, and you were almost embarrassed at how quickly he made you reach your high and the loud moan that escaped your lips. Jack let you collapse into his arms, your forehead on his shoulder as he caressed your hair and whispered how good you were to him. The moment you recovered to your orgasm, was also the time you realised you were completely naked in front of him, still fully clothed sitting on your stool.

Instantly, you covered your chest with your arms, all your blood going straight to your cheeks. "Don't shy away, you look gorgeous", he said "M still not done with you", and with that, he carried you back to your bedroom. You kneeled on top of your bed as Jack stood in front of you and wasted no time in taking off his signature black shirt. He was too beautiful to be true. More handsome than all the guys closer to you in age you've ever been with (who you could also count on the fingers of one hand). It was now your time to take care of him, appreciating his body at your own pace. Jack was loving all the attention from you, as he could not really remember the last time he was so intimate with someone. You reminded him at least a dozen times how handsome he was, with his broad back and strong arms. He tried to climb on the bed when his leg hurt, with a painful expression on his face. "Take it off, Jack", you said lovingly, "I want you to be okay". In other circumstances, he would have refused, pushing through the pain, but this time, he decided to be vulnerable and took his prosthetic off. Moving from the kitchen to the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted. All the filthy things Jack used to whisper were replaced by praises coming from both of you. Hands gently caressing the other, and slow, sensual kisses. "Before we continue this, I want you to know that none of the things you heard was true" he looked into your eyes to be sure he really meant those words, that he really cared for you. "I know", you smiled at him, "and I want this, I want you". Jack wasted no time, and he climbed on top of you, your hands drawing imaginary lines on his back. "Can't believe how many times I imagined this, sweetheart", he confessed in between kisses, "You are so much more beautiful than what I expected". All these praises were going to your head, you were not used to being cherished that much during sex, and you could definitely get used to it. "Jack, please", you became impatient, "you are taking too long". Your words made him chuckle; you were such a view to him. Naked under him, begging to do something.

He prepared you again with his fingers; your back arched immediately at the contact, and he hummed happily. When he thought you were ready for him, he replaced his fingers with himself, filling you up slowly. "Let me know if it hurts you", he worried when your expression changed. He was not joking about fitting in, but you were too desperate, and the feeling was both painful but enjoyable. Your legs crossed around his hips to signal him to go deeper until you felt him in your stomach. "Oh fuck", was all she could think of "M ready, Jack". He started slow and steady, giving you the time to adapt to his shape. Kissing your neck and collarbones and filling you with more praises. You were desperately searching for his lips, but he did not want to miss your soft moans. Gosh, he would listen to you forever if he could. No way you were leaving that bed anytime soon. The feeling was too good to be true. You could not believe all those years you just settled for mediocre experiences, while this is what you could have gotten. All your friends always bragged about their adventures, making you believe there was something wrong with you, that you were a "damaged good", and that was the maximum you could ever experience in bed. But Jack proved you wrong. It was shameful the way you were screaming; it was very likely that the boy you spent the previous night with could hear you too, from the other side of the city.

You tried to praise Jack too, even though your sounds were reassuring him enough that he was doing an excellent job. But there were things he needed to hear, too. "Wanted you since the first time I saw you" "Can't believe I ever doubted you" "You are the best I have ever had" Until all you could say was his name, louder and louder, and he pushed you to your limit, an edge you never reached before. Jack followed you immediately after. He rolled next to you, your bodies still pressed to each other and sticky with each other's sweat. The Doctor was still a bit unsure; he hadn't been in that situation for a while, and your lack of reaction did not help. Was it all a mistake? He thought he had to say something. Jack looked up to you, still amazed by how pretty you looked and unsure how he pulled such a gorgeous creature. Without a word, you turned around and grabbed your phone from the nightstand next to you. "What are you doing?" he asked, confused. Was it all over yet? "Calling in sick, you are not going to the ER tonight". Jack sat on the bed, looking even more doubtful "What?" "You know" you began with a smirk, "When a boy gives me the best sex of my life, I offer full service, and I also call in sick the next day. We are not done, old man". Jack tried so hard not to smile and pulled you for a kiss.

The hospital could survive one day without them.

I imagine after some mind-splitting sex—the kind that has you bent over just about every surface of the apartment in some failed tour of the place, ending with you riding him on your bed while he buries his face between your tits, mumbling about how he likes the color you painted the walls—while you’re fucked out asleep, and after a careful cleaning and peppered kisses while he told you just how good of a girl you were for him, Jack doesn’t go snooping as much as he just takes in your place, a place that is filled to the brim with you in ways he’s never seen before.

He walks around like he’s in a museum, hands behind his back in a precautionary way so he doesn’t even have a chance of knocking something over, leaning forward to inspect framed pictures and little trinkets. And then he gets to your vanity and sees the shape it's in. Compared to all the big names and expensive products you constantly indulge in (thanks to him) and your insistence on staying trendy, your makeup and skincare are surprisingly well-used. A lot of it is old or running out, barely any setting powder left in the container, your foundation cap smudged with excess, your lipstick only usable cause of the brush you apply it with.

So there he is, taking pictures of all your skincare products to catalog and spritzing your perfumes to smell them out of pure curiosity and not because he may or may not get butterflies when you pass him by in the emergency room and that floral smell soothes over the antiseptic fog. Maybe he'd fumble a little while snooping around your jewelry box, thinking your delicate flower earrings are the cutest things ever (he'll ask you to wear them next shift and get all proud of himself when you get compliments on them cause yes, Jack Abbot does know how to dress his girl).

And maybe it becomes his new obsession—hobby—just a way to pass time when you don't share shifts and he’s left moping around without being able to call you. He’ll spend hours at the mall and every makeup store trying to find all the labels that match the pictures, stare at them for too long and decide they’re not good enough for you, then corner the poor workers to get their opinions on what the best of the best is. The man is dedicated, and as soon as the idea of taking care of you came to mind, he decided to go all in.

He’s the type to love watching you get ready for your shift, how meticulous your routine is, and how you always manage to finish with barely enough time to get to work without Dana rolling her eyes at you. He’s 100% the type to practically force you to put a face mask on him so he doesn’t feel left out, his hair pulled back with a pink headband—the look suits him surprisingly well—he’d even go as far as wrapping himself in a bathrobe to match you while watching Bridgerton and waiting for the mask to set. And of course he’s there, a hand braced on the back of the vanity chair you’re sitting at, listening as you tell him why you use these products and not the ones he researched and was recommended.

“It’s got nothing to do with how fancy the label is or what’s in it,” you have to explain to a painfully sorry-looking Jack, who’s trying very hard to understand why you’d prefer Bare Minerals (still pricy) over something like Chanel or Lancome (even more pricy), which he found in about 90% of the beauty magazines he now reads while waiting for his coffee in the evening.

He doesn’t get it—the whole loyalty to a brand or the search for what doesn’t make your skin absolutely throw a tantrum—but he doesn’t argue. And it's really sweet how he replaces your old and probably expired setting powder with a new one two days later. And then takes that generic lipstick you can't part from so he can get it shade-matched at Ulta.

Jack is incredibly good at the silent love game. Gift-giving fills him with too much satisfaction for it to be normal, while caring for others is basically the foundation of his being. And you… Well, who can say no to gifts from a devastatingly attractive older man who likes to spend shared days off fucking you on the kitchen counter, telling you to ignore the water bottle you spilled when you sprawled out for him so he could dig his tongue into your pussy like a starving, desperate animal? He has a way with that mouth of his to make you a babbling mess of accepting whatever he gives, even if it’s agreeing to dinner reservations or moving in with him…

She begins to apologize only to be reassured by Pope that he's just crying because he can't believe she's here with him right now. She's here and she's not going anywhere. He's overwhelmed by the realization that she's really here with him. He can't believe she wants to be here with him.

It hits her that he's not accustomed to people sticking around even after sex.

It inspires her to be just as clingy with him. She knows he needs reassurance that she's not going anywhere after sex. Even if she has to get up and go to the bathroom, Pope is following her not wanting her out of his sight.

It's a little embarrassing at first, peeing in front of him, but she quickly realizes the closeness is soothing for him. She'll give anything to soothe him.

Overtime Pope begins to grow more at ease in the afterglow becoming reassured that Reader isn't going to disappear. She snuggles up against him, and he feels a true sense of calm he's never felt in his life.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Pope loves Reader's hands, more-so how her hands caress his body and how they feel in his when they make love. Pope is a hand-holder. Her hands are always soft and always touch him with a sense of reverence he's certain he's undeserving of. He likes her hands when they're paint stained. He likes them when she's applied vanilla scented lotion to them. He likes to admire her fingernails; the chipped never matching polish or the sparkly glitter. It's uniquely her.

Her stomach is a fave of his as well after they have kids. He likes the hint of pudge she can't shake post-baby, and he loves the stretch marks, signs she gave him the family he never thought he'd have.

Her breasts are also a huge favorite of his. They're soft and warm and he likes to rest his head against them. He likes pressing his head against her left breast so he can listen to her heartbeat.

Reader loves Pope's chest. He's broad chested and she feels secure resting her head against his chest. Much like Pope she enjoys listening to his heartbeat.

She also is rather fond of his backside. Pope's got a nice butt and she is only human okay...She admires his thick thighs and his firm backside. His abs are quite lovely as well. The man follows a fitness routine, and it shows. She's only admiring all his hard work.

On a more romantic note, she is fond of his eyes. They're a lovely shade of hazel and she likes how he stares at her with those pretty eyes...she knows some people find his staring problem to be disturbing, but she's always equated his staring at her as a sense of safety. She feels safe knowing he's watching her.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pope has a thing for cumming in Reader...he's overwhelmed by the fact that Reader asks him to do it. She trusts him to find release inside of her. It's something no one else has ever given him. She trusts him more than anyone has ever trusted him and it's both terrifying and so comforting.

He's rather partial to cumming anywhere on her body to be honest. He's been known to jerk off and let go on her stomach and her ass before. She might have found the act somewhat degrading with any other man, but with Pope it feel different. She has a feeling it's due to the fact that Andrew Pope Cody has a tendency to look at her like she's the most stunning woman on the planet. So, how could she feel he would want to cum against her skin as an act of disrespect...not when he looks at her like that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Pope really really really likes sex when Reader is pregnant. He is anxious of course, at first. Reader almost thinks that he might not want her in her current state...but she' s so wrong and when she admits her fears to him, he so proves to her just how wrong she is.

There's something deeply satisfying for Pope making love to Reader with her belly so round with his child. He already firmly believes she's the most stunning creature on earth, but pregnant Reader is ethereally pretty.

He likes how sensitive she is while she's pregnant. She cums so damn fast and he loves making her reach her peak more than once.

She is insecure about her changing body, but Pope is fast to show her that he's crazy for her.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pope's experience has been pretty closely linked to trauma. Given what we've seen about the implications of what Smurf did to him...not to mention the fact that Smurf has paid for sex workers for Pope.

His sexual experiences haven't exactly been "normal".

He's accustomed to sex being linked to manipulation and a sense of roughness, never love.

Reader changes that for him. She's soothing and loving with him. She shows him how to move gently and how to take his time. She makes him feel cherished and secure.

Reader has had a few boyfriends. She's not the most experienced girl on the planet but she's not naive to sex.

Sex with Pope feels different than it has with any previous partner. She isn't accustomed to being the dominate one in the bedroom, but she takes the role with a sense of love understanding the responsibility of it.

She quickly realizes that Pope carries a lot of traumas when it comes to anything sexual. He's not accustomed to any gentle treatment without manipulation.

She feels sick when she realizes the source of his trauma, and vows to take care of him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary is a favorite for both Pope and Reader. They know it might be a bit of a boring answer, but they like the closeness.

Pope likes holding Reader's hands above her head his hands clasped with hers. Reader likes wrapping her legs around his hips encouraging him to keep moving against her. It feels secure and loving.

They've tried the lotus position a few times and find it enjoyable. Pope adores the closeness of that position and the eye contact it invites.

Reader likes to ride out Pope. Cowgirl is always fun. She likes how Pope stares up at her in that position his hands at her hips his fingertips digging into her delicate skin.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pretty serious. Pope is an intense guy, and that personality trait carries over into the bedroom.

Reader seems to understand the need for seriousness their first few times making love. She understands how much trust Pope is placing in her and she takes that trust seriously.

She does manage to pull him out of his head later on in their relationship pressing kisses to the tip of his nose and his cheek and giggling when his touch accidentally brushes against a ticklish spot.

With time Pope manages to begin associating sex with a sense of light playfulness. It starts to feel fun. It's not an emotion he's accustomed to attaching to sex; joy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Pope doesn't place any expectations on Reader's nether regions. She could go full bush or fully waxed, and Pope would be just as entranced by her pussy.

She tends to go for something in between; caring for waxing her bikini line and keeping things tidy otherwise.

Pope keeps things tidy as well. It's not necessarily a jungle down there, but there is hair. He does his best to keep it neat without going overboard.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is incredibly important to both Reader and Pope both. Reader makes it her mission to show Pope that sex can be romantic and is a way to make them both feel loved.

She makes a point of trying everyhting she can think of to make Pope associate intimacy with love and comfort and not pain or distress.

She knows she's his first partner who actually cares to make love to him. She knows what happened to him growing up long before he says the words to her...she connects the dots and suspects the truth.

When Pope admits his past encounters have occasionally been paid for by his mother, Reader is stunned and disturbed. She makes it clear she isn't disgusted with Pope....more just in shock at the depravity of Smurf to even consider such a thing.

Reader goes above and beyond to make things romantic for her bodyfriend knowing what she knows about his past.

She's all soft touches, gentle kisses, and reassuring words. She reminds him to go slow and take his time. She tells him that she's not going anywhere and they have time to enjoy exploring one another.

It's soft and adoring and it makes Pope's heart ache with love for Reader.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pope will admit he's struggled with jerking off...especially after his time in Folsom.

Reader awakens something in him that he's long ago convinced himself isn't possible.

He finds his hand sliding down his boxers on late nights he can't sleep after he meets Reader. She's the main feature of every dirty dream he has after he meets her, long before he's even said more than a few words to her.

Reader won't lie, she's maybe thinking about Pope in her self pleasure long before they're a couple.

Mutual masturbation is something that they try after they become a couple and Pope can admit that he does love it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Pope Cody has a breeding kink...especially after Reader and he have kids. He knows why...it's due to the fact that everyone has always treated him like he's unstable and strange...everyone but Reader. She loves him despite his eccentricities. She never tells him that he's too intense or too unhinged. She wants him just the way he is.

So, the idea of her wanting him evolves into the thought of her wanting him enough to have his babies. He can't help but to think that her having his babies would make everyone who has ever called him strange or crazy shut the hell up. Her being pregnant with his child is a sign to the world that Reader loves crazy weird Pope Cody.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

For a guy who has a reputation for being so unhinged, Pope is actually pretty shy about intimacy with Reader.

He tends to want to keep it to their bedroom and behind a closed and locked door.

He's protective of Reader and would probably go apeshit if anyone saw her in such a vulnerable moment.

Once they escape Oceanside and get a place of their own they fully enjoy making love in every room of their new home.

After having kids that kind of becomes a little more difficult. They do enjoy a bathtub session though late at night when the kids are fast asleep.

When they are still dating and living in Oceanside there was a time or two where they got down and dirty in the backseat of a car. That was the most risky thing they were willing to do.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pope is obsessed with Reader. There's not a moment where he's sure he doesn't want her fully and completely.

There are certain things that get him really hot and bothered. Reader deep in concentration in front of an easel, paint smeared across her skin.

Reader in one of Pope's t shirts making coffee in the morning or folding laundry on the sofa.

Reader sitting back on the sofa with Pope nestled under his arm watching a nature documentary asking him for his thoughts clearly as invested as him in the show.

Reader at the beach in one of those bikinis she loves; asking Pope to spread sunscreen on her back and insisting she spread it on his skin reminding him he's a redhead and he's gonna burn like a lobster if she doesn't make sure he's throughly suncreened.

Reader likes watching her boyfriend skateboard...she knows its an odd thing to get hot and bothered over....but he just loves skateboarding so much. He looks so carefree in those moments and it makes her heart ache with adoration.

Reader enjoys seeing her boyfriend workout...he's powerful on a punching bag and when he lifts weights. It's hot.

Once they become parents she really feels herself getting turned on seeing Pope be a dad. He's a good dad; loving and so sweet. He makes her want to have a million babies with him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Choking for obvious disturbing reasons...

Pope can't hurt Reader even in the act of rough sex. He knows that Smurf nutured violence in him. She used him as a weapon. He can't let violence seep into his sex life with Reader. He would want to die if he ever hurt her.

Pope can't do a mommy kink...his mommy issues and past make that act feel traumatic.

Reader won't harm Pope. She's had a few friends talk about boyfriends who like to be slapped or choked and Reader can't imagine herself ever doing anything of the sort to Pope. She only wants to treat him with softness.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pope is a munch. He lives to eat his girl out. He's a dedicated eater. The man could move in down there. He will spend far too long down there even after his jaw aches and Reader is beyond overstimulated. He loves to please her. He loves staring up at her between her parted thighs her legs resting over his shoulders, her fingers digging into his curls. She looks like a goddess in those moments.

Reader loves to return the favor even if Pope tries to insist he doesn't expect her to feel the need to do so. She loves pleasing him as much as he loves to please her.

She is reassuring that she very much enjoys blowing him and wants him to feel good and let go.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Reader encourages Pope to move at a sensual pace. She reminds him that they don't have to rush. They can take their time and they have all the time in the world. She reassures him that nothing has to exist outside of their bedroom.

Pope's past encounters have been all fast and rough. There was no love involved.

He doesn't like to go fast with Reader. He enjoys the slow sweet pace. It feels healing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pope isn't fond of quickies. He wants to take his time with Reader. He doesn't enjoy feeling rushed.

When they become parents of cousre, they are sometimes left without a choice but to make it quick. There's kids who will wake from a nap or knock on the door and interrupt the moment. Sometimes they have to sneak off to the laundry room and lock the door behind them while the kids are napping. It's not a favorite but sometimes it's all they can squeeze in.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Pope's entire life prior to Reader felt like one big long risk. He's cautious with Reader. He doesn't ever want to scare her away.

He lets her make the move towards riskier moves. She always asks for his consent and talks it over with him. She would never want to push him towards anything that made him feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

They tend to experiment with new positions. Pope is at least willing to try that out. Reader shows him it can be fun and silly and feel so light and playful. It's just another way intimacy proves to be healing for Pope.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pope is ashamed to admit that when Reader and he first start sleeping together that he tends to cum a little too quick. He is also ashamed to admit that he's struggled at times to get erect.

He blames it on being in Folsom...and his past.

Reader is so sweet and reassuring. She helps him get it up and keep it up. She's quick to reassure him when he finishes too soon reminding him that they can work on it.

His lasting power does improve with time and he manages to get out of his head and get ready for her without letting the past cloud his desire.

He manages to build up the stamina to go multiple times much to Reader's delight. He makes her feel so wanted, far more than any man has ever managed to.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Reader owns a couple; one of those little suction toys for her clit and a vibrating wand.

When Pope accidentally discovers them they're both a little mortified. Reader is the one who casually offers to let him watch her use them...quick to add on that if he's not into it or it's too much she'll back off.

Pope is quick to reassure her it's not too much...which leads to the mutual masturbation part of their sexual relationship.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Pope teases without really realizing he's doing so; intense stares and lingering touches. He doesn't seem to understand that when she's in a certain mood the gazes in her direction and the soft touches to her side do soemthing to her.

Reader tries not to tease him too much. She knows how anxious and jumpy he can be with certain acts of affection. It takes him far too long to stop flinching when she shows him affection.

Her teasing tends to lean more towards sweet smiles and whispered requests that he "take care of her" the second they get home.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pope's pretty quiet their first few times; whimpers, low grunts, and soft whispered words.

With time he breaks out of his shell enough to be more vocal with Reader's encouragement.

Reader is not shy about being vocal. The woman can moan and talk dirty with the best of them. She is quite vocal about telling Pope just what she likes and encouraging him.

With time he manages to be just as vocal as her and his grunts grow in volume as do his words of praise for her.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Reader has talked Pope into letting her paint him nude. It's something he's so shy about he claiming that he's not worth that. Reader is quick to reassure him that she thinks he's so worth that.

Of course, they don't get too far into the painting before Pope is pressing his lips against hers and she winds up just as nude as him and interestingly enough covered in paint. It's messy and they are both relieved they were smart enough to put a tarp down on the floor.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Pope is above average. He's about average length but he's thick enough that its a stretch for Reader. He is nervous about hurting her their first time but she's very persistent and reassuring. It's a stretch but they manage to figure it out.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Reader adores her boyfriend and she wants him so badly she almost wants to cry at times. She just likes making him feel loved and worthy.

Pope is in awe of Reader and it takes a while to become convinced that she actually really wants him and isn't going to wake up one day and change her mind.

They have an equal sex drive and yearn for the other.

Once Reader becomes the mother to his children then that sense of desire for her becomes all the more apparent.

Pope Cody worships the ground Reader walks on and somehow she's decided he's worth not only her time but her love.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pope used to not really sleep much....that's part of how he met Reader after all, she waiting tables and a 24 hour diner and Pope coming into that diner on another sleepless night.

Pope sometimes still struggles to sleep. He tends to want to stay up beside a sleeping Reader almost feeling the need to watch over her.

There has been once or twice though where Pope manages to feel secure enough to fall asleep particularly after making love.

After leaving Oceanside Pope finds that he rests a little easier. He holds a nude Reader against his frame she dozing off first. He finds that his eyes grow surprisingly heavy and his breathing begins to even out by her side.

He feels himself sink off to sleep a sense of comfort washing over him.

Today was an absolute mess. One of the most hectic mornings to date, in fact.

Your 5 year olds, the twins, refused to let you dress them in matching outfits but also vetoed different ones. After you begged on your hands and knees for them to just put some clothing on, they landed on the same shirt but different colored bottoms.

Then your middle child, the 3 year old, who was usually quiet and sleepy in the mornings, decided to splash your husband with so much water in the tub that he had to change. Twice. Screaming from bath times' start to finish.

Thankfully, they have daycare five days a week, and because it's a weekday, you got to ship the crazy trio off to school. Getting to spend the second half of your unbelievably early morning with your one year old.

Pope shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt and jeans. He's already dropped the car keys in their dedicated tray by the time he presses a soft kiss to your temple. Before you can formally greet each other, his gaze snags onto the mess his son is making, whose chubby little cheeks are coated in mushy carrots and peas, onesie stained so aggressively you can barely see the yellow lions on it.

“Food is ‘sposed to go in your mouth, grumpy,” Pope takes a thick thumb and carefully wipes off a big glob of mush from your sons button nose.

'Grumpy' is the nickname one of the twins gave their new baby brother when he came out of the womb having the exact same twisted scowl as their daddy.

You nudge your shoulder into Popes side with a small huff, “He’s trying his best.” You then turn your attention back to the angel in the high chair, "Aren’t you sweet boy? Yes you are! Yes you-"

Your baby talk effectively dies in your throat when you feel bile replacing it suddenly. Your stomach lurches at the same time you do, slapping a palm over your mouth, dropping the tiny spoon you were mid airplaning and diving for the sink.

Once you’re done vomiting up the half cup of coffee and the single blueberry that fell off your middle child's plate that you’ve eaten since 5 am, you sag against the sink.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Pope steps behind you to grip your forearms, keeping you upright, immediately concerned and wanting to fix the problem.

You lean back against his body and breathe for a second. Letting his strong chest and warmth flood your senses enough to quell the uneasiness in your belly.

"No, I don't think so," You answer truthfully. "I've just been super nauseous the past few…"

You trail off as the familiar puzzle pieces fall into place as they have done many times before since you've been married to Pope Cody.

You slowly turn around to face him, your features morph into a wide eyed, horrified gape.

"Oh my god..." You breathe and thats all you can manage.

Pope's hazel eyes literally light up, but his face stays in its usual tight expression. You can tell it's because he doesn't want to speak to soon.

You had never believed your husband to be a superstitious man, but before you had even had kids, you once you thought you were pregnant, and he got so excited that he bought you a big ass SUV so you could- in his own words- 'drive all his kids around when he's not there to'.

You hadn't been pregnant, though. You found Pope crying in the shower after you told him it was a false positive. You made him and yourself feel better by having a whole lot of shower sex that did irreparable damage to your water bill that month. But the two of didn't even end up caring, because three weeks later, a real positive showed up on a pregnancy test.

Grumpy babbles from his high chair and you realize you and Pope are still just staring at each other wordlessly. After another beat, he blinks and his jaw works just once, “Go take one right now.”

You know what he's referring to. One of the many pregnancy tests you have lying around the house due to the literal sports team you have been popping out.

Going to the bathroom, finding a test and taking it is all a blur. It all becomes clear again when you shuffle back into the kitchen.

"Oh my god!" You shriek in disbelief and utter exhaustion when you flash him the test with two lines so dark you feel another wave of nausea threaten to spill over.

"How could you do this to me again!”

A smile finally breaks onto Pope's face. A big goofy one that shows off the crooked teeth and crinkling eyes that you love so much that got you into this mess in the first place.

This particular smile he's sporting is one that you’ve only seen a few times with him. The first was when you said you would go out with him, the second was when you told him you loved him back, and then it appeared every single time you found out you were pregnant.

You knew what day this pregnancy came from. It was the last time you had sex, which was three weeks ago. A quickie in the laundry room during everyones nap time.

You squint at him. Throwing up an accusing finger and taking a step back when he reaches for you.

“I told you you should’ve worn a condom!” You practically hiss.

Not that you really care your pregnant again.

You’re truly always excited to have kids with Pope. Obviously... because you have so many. But right now, it’s barely 8 am and you’re pretty sure that your throw up further clogged the garbage disposal that one of the twins shoved blocks down this morning.

Pope blinks at you, scrunching his handsome face up as if he genuinely doesn't understand the notion, “You’re my wife. ‘m not using a fucking condom.”

"Andrew!" You gasp as he finally closes in on you. "Grumpy is right there!”

You let him tightly wrap his arms around you. Because you're tired, nauseous and now a type a nervous that you haven't felt in over a year. His hold is the only thing that keeps you sane in this moment.

He presses his face into your neck, “ ’S fine.”

Your hands encircle his tree trunk waist, grip probably too tight and exposing your worry, but Pope doesn't say anything.

You glance to your youngest son who is your husbands pocket sized version, then whisper into Pope's chest, "No cursing. He’s old enough to hear words and repeat them.”

Pope presses his body further into yours as if trying to meld the two of you together. Your cheeks heat as you feel the hardness of him that's now standing at full attention against you. The heavy weight of his bulge brings pressure on the outside of your belly and pools warmth inside of it.

Pope's breath tickles your neck, “You think he’s old enough to look after himself while mommy and daddy go cuddle?”

Cuddle.

The word the two of you started using when the twins started catching onto to when their parents started kissing and pawing at each other in the kitchen and then abruptly called for everyone’s bed time at 7:30 pm.

You pull back and swat at his shoulder, “Andrew!” feigning incredulity even though you have to discreetly squeeze your thighs together.

“Cmon, I’ll be quick,” he says through the kisses he starts leaving on your neck.

You snort, “Romantic.” You manage to steel your mind just enough to push Pope off and the thought of getting to mount him as you cross the kitchen to your baby boy. “You better not’ve been serious about leaving our one year old unattended, or mommy will never cuddle with you ever again.”

Despite your threat, you see Pope bite his lip when you call yourself mommy.

He slowly looks you up and down. Even with your hair slightly wet from your first shower in days, baby food accompanying the throw up on your face, and one of his giant t-shirts hanging off your shoulder, the heat still simmers in his eyes. Needy and hot. It makes your face grow warm and you have to turn away from him.

After a beat of him silent behind you, you hear him grunt dramatically.

He mutters, “Fine. I guess can wait until Friday.”

Which is when you’ll drop the kids off at your parents house. It’s your designated date night (even though you never even leave the bedroom). But you’ve missed almost a whole months worth because one of the twins having a fever one night and then there was a toddler ballet recital the next and all that other wonderful parenting crap. So you’re both… pent up, to say the least.

His footsteps sulk out of the kitchen and stalk upstairs behind you, huffing and puffing as he goes.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as all the heated anticipation leaves your body. You glance at the calendar covered in parent teacher conference sand sports events that hangs on the fridge.

Okay, it's Monday. You can wait four days. Right??

Your focus lands on Grumpy, you then realize that Andrew had finished feeding him while you were upstairs peeing on a stick. The familiar steady ease of Pope being your rock in this marriage has some of the anxiety about being pregnant again fade away.

"Da," Grumpy chirps.

You pick him up and nuzzle his nose with yours, “I know. Daddy is so dramatic, isn’t he?”

Your one year old giggles as if he agrees with you.

About a half an hour later, Pope is upstairs changing Grumpy as you empty the dishwasher. Your husband held onto his scowl he passed onto your youngest the whole time, throwing a fit that he can't have sex with his wife after finding out she's pregnant with his kid.

You had rolled your eyes and given him a quick kiss on the cheek after you brushed your teeth, then came downstairs to tidy up the mess that your children left in the living room and kitchen this morning.

Your brow furrows as an unexpected knock comes from the font door, and that furrow deepens when your neighbor, who you ask to babysit sometimes when no one else is around, is on the other side of it.

"Oh, Hi Bertha," You can't hide the confusion in your tone. "Can I help you?"

She nods once, big framed silver glasses that match her hair slide down her long nose, "I'm here for baby Cody."

You open your mouth to tell her you have no idea what she's talking about, but are interrupted by Pope appearing from behind you. He has Grumpy and a diaper bag in hand.

"Thanks," He says curtly as he hands off your baby boy. "The family matter isn't too serious, so we should we only be two-” then his gaze flicks to yours and his mouth quirks sideways to hold back his smirk and he corrects himself, “-maybe three hours.”

Your jaw drops. Not entirely believing that your husband lied about a family emergency just so he can get some alone time with you. But before you can say anything, Pope plants a kiss to Grumpy's cheek, mutters a goodbye to Bertha, and slams the door.

After a single blink of gawking at him, you throw your hands up.

You absentmindedly take a few steps backwards as you shriek, “Oh my god!" You continue to wave your hands around until your opposite him, the coffee table sitting in between you. "You’re unbelievable, Andrew!”

Your husband simply shrugs, “Decided I couldn’t wait.”

You scoff, the delirium of being a mother of four and the apprehension coming from the prospect of a fifth already starting a tiring mental battle in your mind.

“I am not having sex with you! It’s barely 9am and you just-" pregnancy brain kicks into overdrive and frustration bubbles up as you fight to string a sentence together- "You just carted off our youngest son to our neighbor!”

Pope scoffs in response, as if you would ever actually deny him. Annoyance prickles up your spine, adding to your already formed aggravation.

This man has the nerve to get you pregnant again and be all smug about it?

When he tries to round the coffee table to reach you, you step away, crossing your arms and basically glaring at him.

Pope raises a brow. He takes another step forward, you take another step back. After a second of confusion, a mischievous glint darkens his eyes.

He licks his lips, “Hmmm you haven’t played hard to get in a long while sweetheart.”

Your breath catches.

This is... not where you were expecting this to go.

You manage to fake an eye roll, trying to act as if his words didn't make your stomach tighten, “I’m not playing hard to get. It’s not happening.”

The words don’t fall as stern as you’d like them to, because you feel a dull throbbing sensation starting to build up in between your legs.

Damn your husband and his sexy face, voice and body.

A sly smile overtakes his face as the two of you start to slowly circle the coffee table. Pope's voice morphs into a taunt that send goosebumps across the back of your neck. “Wanna make me work for it? Okay honey, I’ll work for it. Don't gotta worry 'bout that.”

Nervous laughter bubbles out of you as you try to fend off the flush of arousal that he’s probably already spotting from a mile away.

A tense game of cat and mouse ensues as you round a corner and he rounds the opposite one. Over and over and over.

“You don’t need to work for anything. We’re not having sex.” You get even more irritated when your voice waivers embarrassingly on the last three words. Your husband tracks the sound and hunches over slightly, as if he is literally trying to snatch you up you like a hunter catches an animal.

You don't really want to think about why it sends a rush of dampness to the boxers- his boxers- that you're wearing.

You have to stay strong. Follow through with your scolding. Why can't you ever deny him? Probably because he has the biggest-

Pope dawns a casual look. Nonchalant almost. But his eyes stay blazed as they take in your skittish steps and uneven breathes.

A shrug accompanies his next wide stalk around the corner of the wooden table, “Alright. Stop walkin' away from me then.”

You feel your body betray you, growing all hot and fuzzy in wicked anticipation as you try to steady your voice, “I will. Once you stop following me.”

His movements falter for a second, thinking about it. He looks at you, then the remaining space between you, and opens his mouth.

“Nah.”

He lunges for you.

Reacting instinctively, you yelp and jump sideways out of his reach that grazes your waist. You land parallel to him across the table once again.

He groans as if this is the sexiest foreplay he could ever ask for, “Fuck sweetheart. You want me to chase you?”

How did you end up here? Weren't you just throwing up in the sink??

Damn these pregnancy and postpartum hormones that make Pope Cody even more irresistible.

While you are very flustered by the ridiculousness of the whole scenario, you are also, very turned on.

You've completely forgotten why you said no to sex in the first place at this point. The only notion that rings clear in your mind is that you really, really want him to chase you.

“N-no.” A lie.

Your hesitation has him chuckle darkly, “My day just keeps gettin’ better.” It’s spoken quiet, meant for his inner thoughts but slips through the cracks in the heat of the moment.

Pope slowly eyes you up like you’re his prey and then he cocks his chin up once. A vague gesture to the rest of the house that sits behind you.

His already deep voice drops an impossible amount of octaves as he rasps, “Better get movin’ sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen. Heart dropping all the way into the basement where only Pope goes because theres crickets down there.

You turn and bolt through the living room before he can make his next move.

A disbelieving gasp-shriek sounds from you as you run as fast as you can through the first floor of the house he bought you.

The exhilarating rush you get at the though of him chasing you has your heartbeat thump in your ears and somewhere else you don't need to dignify with naming. You haven't looked back once as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

Your racing mind has half a thought that you've gained some distance, but then you hear Pope's heavy footsteps thud behind you in the hallway.

Then up the stairs.

Then into your bedroom.

You squeal like a school girl when he finally gets his hands on you.

Pope- gently because he would never actually hurt you- throws you onto the bed, easily pinning you under him within seconds.

He has one large hand holding both of your own over your head. The rest of his body is pressed on top of you, faces inches apart. You feel your hearts rapidly beat against each other as you're chest to chest.

“You can never outrun me,” His rough whisper ghosts your lips, making you realize you haven't kissed all morning.

You close the gap and place featherlight kiss to his mouth. Your voice is delicate despite what you just did and the position he now has you in, “I never want to.”

All the buzz starts to settle in your body. Melting into a safe and glowy feeling that engulfs you and your soulmate.

He stares at you for a second when you pull back. The heat in his gaze melts into something different. Something softer.

He exhales through his nose, gulping audibly as he mumbles what he always does when he finds out you're pregnant.

“Thanks for givin' me another one.”

You smirk at him, wrapping your legs around his thick waist tightly, “Could be two again.”

You giggle at the pleasure coated groan that sounds from him at the thought.

Pope presses his face into your neck, pressing his hips into you. When you feel the large bulge that has made it's way back into his jeans, you know just how much he liked that thought.

He places hot kisses up your neck until you’re squirming beneath him. He says lowly into through kisses, “I love you so much.”

You whisper back, “I love you too, Andrew.”

“So much," he continues. "Too much. I wish there was a way I could show you how much.” His breath is warm on your skin, the affection only you see from him sends your heart fluttering.

Pope means it sweetly. A true testament to romance.

But there’s still some adrenaline coursing through you from the chase, so you can’t help but tease, “You could give me an orgasm for each kid?”

He exhales a sharp laugh against your collarbone then drops his hand, releasing both of yours. Your fingers automatically shoot up into his auburn curls with their newfound freedom.

His lips twitch upwards when he pulls back to meet your eyes. He softly presses his lips to yours, murmuring, “Sounds like a good start.”

“Start?” you raise a brow at him.

Pope grinds his hips firmly into yours, drawing a soft moan from you. His tone gets serious. Determined.

"Honey, I bought us over two hours of alone time. I plan on giving you three times the amount of our kids.”

Wanting to make pancakes for you and sammy, one of your last mornings alone together your on your tip toes reaching for the pancake mix box, measuring cups, one of your husbands old police t shirts lifting on your round tummy softly as you reach.

You start mixing in a big bowl, checking around for your phone when it slips out of your hand and onto the kitchen floor, the powder and water mixture that’s not fully blended making an awful mess. You sigh harshly and feel the tears welling in your eyes already.

You can hear sammy padding down the hall, “Baby?” You’re standing there, pancake mix all over your feet as you stand and look at it, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Oh honey,” he comes up behind you and rubs your back softly, kissing the side of your face.

“It’s okay, we can get it cleaned up i can run to the store and grab some more mix-“ his voice is soft and you know he means well, but you can’t help the sob that escapes your lips, hands moving to wipe your tears. He gives you a sad smile and moves to grab some paper towels to start cleaning.

“I just wanted to make” hiccup “a-a nice breakfast for us before the baby” you whine through tears, looking at him from his kneeling position on the floor. He’s smiling up at you like the saint he is, and nods “well we can grab some breakfast” you nod and run your fingers through his curls before he kisses your thigh and stands up, throwing the mess in the trash.

Sammy gets dressed as you sit on the couch with a box of tissues, kissing your forehead and grabbing the keys before heading out.

When he returns from waffle house; the nearest breakfast spot that sells those fluffy pancakes you love, he brings it to you on the couch, going into the kitchen and getting you a glass of orange juice before handing it to you and sitting next to you on the couch and digging in to his own meal.

You thank him softly and began eating, just watching him from the corner of your eye as he watches tv, his face still a little swollen with sleep, cheeks big with eggs and bacon while he chews, pajama pants folded beneath him as he sits on your couch.

You feel that familiar burn in your eyes again and set your fork down, frustrated with yourself for crying again this morning. He looks over and instantly furrows his eyebrows. “Honey?” he asks quietly, placing his hand on your thigh worriedly.