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Jack Abbott x Reader: Jack forgets his keys and asks you to drop them off during a busy shift. Dana breaks several hospital rules in order for you to cover for a very special patient….
(OR Jack forgets his keys, and when you go to deliver them, Dana asks you to babysit Baby Jane Doe)
Romance, Husband and Wife Abbott, broody Jack and Reader, mentions of being unable to have kids, flirty, sarcasm, fluff
You cleared away the dishes from dinner despite Jack’s insistence on doing it. You quickly shut down his argument with the fact that if he kept pestering you over cleaning up instead of him doing it, then he was going to make himself late for his night shift (and would subsequently have to deal with a pissed off Robby and Dana).
Jack gave in, grabbed his coat, rucksack, lunch bag which you had packed with snacks and leftovers for his break, gave you a long lingering kiss, and went out the front door.
The man had only been gone about half an hour before his name showed up on your phone.
Forgot my keys, work is chaos, don’t have time to come back home, can you drop them off please baby - J
Sure enough, you turned around from your seat on the couch and saw up on the dining table Jack’s keys. Sighing and shaking your head, you got up, retrieved the keys and replied back.
You’re making breakfast tomorrow morning to apologize x
--
You parked up a block or so away from the hospital and made your way over to the entrance to the A&E. Before even stepping foot inside the building, you could hear the noise and busy commotion coming from within.
The waiting room was jam-packed with people, and you did your best to not step on any toes as you sheepishly made your way over to the reception, trying to avoid scathing glares from waiting patients who -to them- you were seemingly cutting ahead.
“Hey hon, looking for Jack?” Lupe said from her chair beyond the plate of glass as you got close and waved a ‘hey Lupe’ at her.
“Yeah, idiot forgot his keys.” You answered, rolling your eyes at the ordeal. “Would you give them to him?”
“Oh sure thing hon, just-“
“Lupe, in here, I need you! Chart system has gone wacko and I need someone to watch over our little guest in the visitor’s room.” Dana suddenly exclaimed as she swung around the doorway behind Lupe, waving for her to follow.
“Dana I can’t, we’re swamped out here tonight!” Lupe protested, gesturing to the masses sitting, standing and hunched, all complaining in the waiting room beyond the reception desk.
“Just ten minutes, please, I got Robby on a knife edge, hand over to night shift has been stalled because of the charting fuck up, McKay is baby-sitting Santos and Mohan, and I can’t find Ellis or Diaz anywhere.” Dana huffed as she finally came back up for air.
“I can’t, I’m still waiting for cover so I can go on my break that should have happened thirty minutes ago.” Lupe said as she motioned as politely as she could for you to move to the side to get at the patient waiting behind you.
“Oh, sorry” You meekly smiled at the old man glowering at you for standing in his way.
“Jesus Christ I’m gonna pass out and it’s only eight thirty.” Dana remarked as she rolled her eyes and looked around behind her for a free body.
“Jack wasn’t kidding when he said it was chaos in here.” You nodded as you took in the bustling atmosphere of the waiting room. “Listen, I know you guys are swamped here, but can someone just take Jack’s keys and I’ll get outta your hair?”
Dana looked at you, then did a double take, eyeing Jack’s keys, then you.
“Actually…that’s perfect.” Dana said, looking right at you, as if a lightbulb had just switched on in her head.
“What?” You asked, looking from Dana to an equally confused Lupe who was juggling the old man’s paperwork.
“You’re perfect hon. Oh dear god you are perfect! Hot damn! Wait there!” Dana suddenly exclaimed with a loud singular clap before she sprinted back out of the reception office.
You and Lupe exchanged looks, but before either of you could question what had just happened, Dana practically burst through the double doors to the waiting room and made a b-line for you.
“Come on come on, I need you my little angel.” Dana quickly said as she grabbed your hand and practically hauled you through the double doors.
“D-Dana what are you doing?” You frowned as Dana continued to lead you through the busy ER.
Immediately you were hit with the familiar smell that came off Jack after shifts; the sterile, clean hospital smell that he always insisted on showering off before getting close to you, and one that you recognised when doing his laundry. There was also the slightly not so pleasant, yet faint, coppery smell of blood and body in the air, attributed to several patients laying out on beds with particularly grizzly injuries.
Don’t look
Don’t look
Don’t look
“D-Dana I…Dana I can’t be in here.” You said, averting your eyes to look down at Dana’s trainers as she continued to lead you through the chaos of patients being moved around, doctors shouting and using language that was lost on you, machines beeping and patients groaning and crying out in discomfort.
Don’t look you’ll puke
Don’t look you’ll puke
Don’t look you’ll puke
“For the next ten minutes you are.” Dana corrected over her shoulder to you as she marched you through the ER.
Christ Jack how the hell do you do this? You thought as you attempted to keep up with Dana, eagerly pulling at you to follow her.
“I need you to do something important for me.” Dana said, ignoring your paling demeanour. “I’ll cut to the chase; we got an unattended baby in the visitor’s room that needs just ten minutes of supervision. Just ten, then one of the junior doctors will take over once I get the charting system straightened out.”
“A baby?” You winced. “Dana no, no – I’ve already broken maybe ten rules just by coming in here! I’m not a doctor or staff! I can’t be left alone with a baby! I just stopped by to give Jack his keys!” You exclaimed frantically.
“And you can give them to him! I’ll go tell him you’re here, and whilst you wait, you can keep an eye on Baby Jane Doe.” Dana reasoned as she pushed you towards the visitor’s room.
“Baby Jane who?” You frowned in confusion.
“Baby Jane Doe; got no parents or guardians, left unattended – Jane Doe.” Dana briefly clarified. “Look, we’re jammed in here, Robby is on the war path, I got staff trying to figure out a charting system that’s crappin it’s pants right now. I got day staff who are chomping at my hand to be relieved so night shift can take over.” Dana halted and rubbed her forehead in exhaustion.
“I need all hands-on deck, and whilst I’m usually not in the habit of trusting non-medical staff, particularly with this sort of thing - I know you and I know you will be fine for ten little minutes whilst I quickly iron out this god forsaken chart system.”
You and Dana exchanged looks, and immediately you felt your resolve give way to her stressed demeanour. With a heavy sigh, you shook your head. “Fine. Ten minutes.” You gave in and allowed Dana to smile thankfully at you. “But if you get fired for this, you only have yourself to blame.” You muttered, earning you a tired chuckle from Dana.
“Thank you honey, I’ll buy you a round next time we all go out.” Dana exhaled deeply in relief before she reached for the door handle to the visitor’s room.
It was dim inside, not entirely dark, but just enough to not disturb the little bundle in the corner of the room. As Dana went over to look into the little cot, you shrugged off your jacket and draped it over one of the vacant chairs.
“Sound asleep.” Dana whispered, trying to reassure you.
“Let’s hope she stays that way.” You mumbled pessimistically, but smiled at Dana nonetheless. This wasn’t her fault, not really, and to be honest if Dana truly needed help, you would be more than happy to give it.
“M’sorry for asking this of you, but my hands are tied.” Dana apologized. “When I see Jack, I’ll tell him to swing in.” Dana said as she walked back over to you.
“And tell him he’s lucky to have me.” You grumbled quietly.
“We’re all lucky to have you.” Dana said with a smirk. “Ten minutes. There’s formula on the countertop.” She gestured beside the cot with a wink before ducking out of the room, a brief influx of noise from the busy outside ER filled the room before it went back into silence.
You turned your attention back to the little cot, and slowly approached, curious to peer inside and take a look at all the fuss.
A tiny, sleepy, pink face peered out from the blankets, swaddled up tight inside, the baby’s small rosy lips parted as she snoozed soundly. Your features softened at the sight of her, a complete polar opposite of calm serenity compared to the manic chaos that lay only a few feet outside the visitor’s room.
Several moments passed by, relatively undisturbed as you paced slowly around the room, mindful to keep your steps light and slow. Eventually you settled into the vacant armchair adjacent to the cot, and rested for a moment or two.
That was until you heard a small grumble of discomfort coming from the cot. You got up from your chair and saw the baby’s face beginning to turn and screw up with unease. At the sound of her first whine, you instinctively reached down into the cot to retrieve the baby.
“Hey…hey little lady.” You whispered as you carefully scooped up the unhappy little one. “It’s alright, it’s all okay.” You hummed as you adjusted the baby in your arms to properly cradle her.
You didn’t have much in the way of experience with children, other than the odd cousin, nieces and nephews, but you knew what would work best to bring some sort of relief to the upset bundle in your arms. The baby squeaked out her crocodile tears, and you continued to coo and rub at her little back, patting at her.
“Shhh…shhh…it’s okay…I’m here.” You whispered, bouncing a little at the knees to lull the baby back down into a sense of comfort from her disturbed sleep. “Just ten minutes…and you’ll be in good hands again.” You muttered as you looked over the little human curling up into you.
Ten minutes
Just ten minutes
--
(thirty minutes later)
“That should be fixed.” Mel said with a chipper tone with Jack looming over her shoulder.
“Thank christ for that.” Jack grumbled with relief. “Alright everybody listen up, charting system is back online and ironed out! Make sure you have all your patients and keep em organised. Day shift can finally hand over, thank you for your patience. If I have to do this again, I will quit on the spot.” he threatened and sighed as his focus turned to the computer in front of him.
“Hey, did Dana get someone to watch over the baby in the visitor’s room?” Mohan asked curiously as she retrieved her charts from the desk. “There’s still nothing up on the board…surely Dana wouldn’t have left a baby unattended?”
Jack frowned and turned to look up at the charting board which was now back in order, where sure enough there was the room number and patient name, but no attending. A small wick of panic began inside of Jack, and he exchanged a brief look between Mohan to where Dana was now helping Robby and Ellis with another patient.
“Dana!” Jack shouted over. “Any attending for Baby Jane Doe?” he asked with his hands out to the sides in a questioning manner.
Immediately, he saw a look of realisation dawning on Dana, as if she had forgotten something and was now figuring it out. Jack didn’t wait for Dana to explain what from across the room, instead he quickly left the desk area and marched over to the visitor’s room, whereupon entering he took two steps before he froze. His eyes widened, head turned a fraction as he saw you, sitting with the baby.
“Close the door.” You quietly hissed, frowning at the sudden intrusion.
Jack did as told, and carefully closed over the door to the room before slowly approaching you. The baby was on the cusp of sleeping, her tiny eyes lulling closed every once in a while.
“I didn’t know you worked here.” Jack whispered as he lifted a seat over to sit down in front of you. “You take up a part time shift in the maternity ward without tellin me?” He smirked wryly.
“I expect my wage by the end of the day.” You replied with a quirked brow. “Dana roped me into this. She also promised it would only be ten minutes…that was over half an hour ago.”
“Oh baby…oh sweetheart, I am so sorry.” Jack shook his head, planting his hands on either-side of your knees and bowing his head a little in shame “I didn’t mean for you to get tossed into all this. Next time I’ll duct tape my stupid keys to my chin” Jack added, earning him a bitter chuckle from you which made him smile through the embarrassment.
“S’not so bad. Rather be in here with this one than out there.” You said, nodding towards the door and the chaos out-with it. “I dunno how you manage it, I nearly puked and passed out when Dana hauled me in.” You shook your head in disbelief.
“You get used to it” Jack shrugged. He couldn’t help but feel his heart squeeze at the way your kept your eyes trained on the baby, how delicately you fixed her blankets and little sleep cap.
“Seems you’ve made a friend.” Jack mused as he looked down at the baby, his rough index finger softly ghosting across the little girl’s chin.
That was when you caught it. That particular expression Jack only used for puppies and nieces and nephews. You knew it all too well, and how dangerous it was.
“Don’t.” You quietly yet firmly stated.
“What?” Jack said, looking up at you innocently.
“You’re getting broody.” You warned.
“No I’m not.” Jack argued. “I do not get broody.”
“Yes you do, and yes you are. I know you are, because I can already feel myself getting broody and it’s only been half an hour with her in my arms.” You reasoned. “I dread to think how you feel, you’re a softy when it comes to kids. New borns especially.” You remarked with a quirked brow.
“Am not.” Jack said, his husky voice rousing the baby a little, freezing both yourself and Jack as you waited for her to settle again. “I am not.” Jack said, light and practically wordless as not to upset the baby in your arms.
You sighed and kept a watchful gaze over the little one, your thumb briefly brushing against her tiny forehead and sparse hairs. Jack hated to admit it, but you were right; it was hard for him to not love the idea of you and him with a baby, and the current scenario was only fuelling the matter further. How gentle and tenderly you looked, how his imagination ran away with the image of you loving a baby together and raising it together.
“Where will she go?” You asked, breaking Jack’s train of thought.
“Well, usually after she gets a few urine and blood tests done, and everything comes back in the clear, she’ll be taken in by a foster care program organized by the hospital .” Jack explained, reaching to tuck the baby up a little more into her pink blanket.
“And then what?” You asked. “You guys…just let her go?” You sighed, poorly trying to hide your sad tone.
“Pretty much. Once all the tests are done, we’re no longer required.” Jack nodded, his tender hazel eyes moving from the baby up to you.
“Oh.” You simply said, though Jack could already tell it was weighing heavy on your heart.
“Hey, she’ll be fine.” Jack reassured, his hands reaching out to the sides of your legs and patting you gently. “She’s young, cute, she’ll be snapped up and looked after.”
“Yeah…yeah she will.” You nodded, fending off the stinging feeling of tears as they threatened to gather.
Jack bit his lower lip, contemplating the thought in his head and sighing deeply.
“She is…also available for kinship adoption. Doctors and nurses are eligible.” Jack threw out, his heart picking up a little as he looked from the baby and at you. “We could-“
“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I appreciate what you’re doing Jack, but no. M’just…just emotional. Babys do that…puppies too.” You added, much to Jack’s amusement. “Besides…at our age…taking on a newborn?.” You chuckled bitterly. “Unwise.”
“You make us sound wrinkly and senile.” Jack huffed a smile at you.
“You know what I mean” You shook your head and looked back down at the baby. “She needs a young couple, solid and ready, not two fortysomethings taking her in on a whim just because they got misty eyed.”
Jack looked at you and the way your face remained soft with a hint of a smile, all the while watching over the little girl. He looked past your features and to your temple where only a few months ago you had announced the first few gray hairs beginning to crop up at the roots of your scalp. It was a hard truth, but it stood regardless that you and Jack had found one another at an age where certain things just weren’t viable anymore, children namely. That ship had sailed, and both of you were simply content in being aunt and uncle to your family members.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a kick ass Mom.” Jack shrugged.
“You’d be a nightmare as a Dad.” You quirked a brow.
“I beg your pardon?” Jack said with mock offence.
“And as a girl Dad? Forget it, you’d have her locked away until she was forty.” You pressed with a smirk.
“More like fifty.” Jack shrugged, unable to hide his grin as you lightly chuckled at his antics.
Jack continued to look you over. “Hey, look at me.” He said.
You did so, admiring Jack as he angled himself to lean forward over the baby and kiss you, his hand cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb from side to side against your skin.
“I love you.” You said, peppering your mouth with little kisses. “I’d be lost without you. Besides, we wouldn’t have time to look after a baby with how much you spend saving my ass.”
“At the very least you’d be without your keys.” You playfully whispered, kissing Jack once more, as you managed to fish out his keys from your jean pocket and hand them over to him.
“Completely and utterly lost.” Jack agreed with a smirk as he took the keys. “Lemme find someone to take over so you can finally get out of this place.” He said as he turned around and walked to the door.
“Take your time. I’m in no rush over here.” You said as you looked back down at the baby.
Quite the picture…Jack took in the scene before him one last time.
"Now who's super broody." Jack muttered playfully as he opened the door.
"Remember you're making breakfast." You said snidely, trying to maintain a quiet enough tone to not disturb the baby.
"I'll see you in the morning." Jack nodded, kissed at you and closed over the door to not let any further noise in as he set out to look for someone to take over babysitting duties for you.
18+ NSFW Titus Danforth x Reader: It's your wedding night (or rather the ritual to join yourself and Titus in front of the council) and Titus cannot wait to consummate the marriage, especially after getting a taste of your blood…
Nasty Smut, blood play, wound licking, daggers, injury, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, demon worship, cursing, Titus being an utter brute, rough sex, reader is just as bad as Titus (let me know if I've missed anything!)
(also full disclosure I wrote this on the road so apologies for any spelling/grammatical errors!)
Nominee, Satani, Lucifer, Excelsis
Bestow your blessing upon these.
In the name of Satan, Lucifer, Baliel, Leviathan
The Lawyer's voice echoed throughout the chamber to the family councils surrounding yourself and Titus as you both stood opposite one another. The joining of your house and Titus’ was almost assured the moment he witnessed your strength and rage during your first hunt alongside him and the others, successfully claiming countless victims and relishing in their demise.
Titus adored you, he would sacrifice many for you with a simple flick of a finger should you desire it.
You had always admired Titus, for his brutality and ruthless cunning, but also his wit and dry humour, of which he would use upon anyone, the council members or otherwise. Titus answered to no one, he was a force of nature, brutal and unstoppable.
"I now ask the betrothed to take up blades, and sacrifice their blood as payment in the name of our Lord and Saviour, Satan." The Lawyer announced, raising both hands out to either side of himself as he looked to you and Titus.
Each blade was a family heirloom, given only once, and exchanged once. The handle of Titus' mirrored his infamous medieval style war hammer and mace, a fist enclosed around a spike. The blade was dark, sculpted from obsidian and gleamed in the flickering light from the wall torches and fires hung upon the chamber walls.
Yours brandished the head of a horse, sculpted from silver and inlayed with gold filigree. You remember your Mother handing it down to you when you came of age, and how your father had brandished it to her on their wedding day.
You looked to Titus, and tried to contain your excitement as you observed the wry grin fighting to pull at the corner of his mouth. He was desperate for you, warring within himself as to follow the line of tradition and procedure, or rip the burgundy wedding dress from your body and consummate the marriage in front of the council then and there.
"Now, we ask for your payment." The Lawyer said, beckoning for the pair of you.
Titus kept his eye on you as you both side stepped towards the plinth whereupon a bronze bowl lay, ready to receive your blood. Standing at opposite sides and facing one another, and raised your hands, palms facing upwards.
The razor sharp blades of the daggers lay against the open palm of either right hand.
"Together." Titus said, gruff and husky as he smirked at you.
"Forever." You smiled, your heart fluttering madly for your beloved brute.
Swiftly, you both nodded and slipped the dagger against each others palms, releasing a sharp inhale from you both as blood seeped from your wounds. As expected, you immediately clasped your bleeding hands together, and allowed the blood to mix and drip down collectively into the bronze bowl.
You winced at the stinging sensation of your wound rubbing against Titus', but were comforted when you felt his fingers squeezing into your hand, as if to reassure you he was pleased and proud of your commitment to him, to your marriage.
Mine. You’re mine.
Forever.
"With your bloodlines interwoven, I instruct both parties to write their names within the book." The Lawyer said, producing the large, dusty book from behind himself, then two strips of black linen to wrap up your hands.
Titus allowed you to take the pen and dip it into the bowl first to write out your full name in blood upon the yellowed paper. Then, with his free hand, he took the pen from you and did the same, writing his name opposite yours.
"You may now exchange your blades." The Lawyer instructed, bringing his hands slowly together gesturiatively
Carefully, you handed one another your family's daggers, Titus' significantly heavier than yours it seemed.
"I now pronounce you, before the councilmen and families of our Saviour, man and wife." The Lawyer declared and looked to Titus, who managed to break his hungry and mirthful expression from you. "You may now kiss your bride."
Without hesitation, Titus stepped closer, his freshly bandaged hand still tightly grasping yours, his spare reaching up for your jawline, and kissed you. As he claimed your mouth, the council members and families along with the Lawyer merrily cheered.
Hail Satan
Hail Satan
Hail Satan
----
The ceremony concluded, though it didn't matter if it had done so officially or not. Titus was leaving with you now to be alone and enjoy the wedding night, not even waiting to see everyone off the property.
Let Ursula deal with those morons. Titus thought dismissively as he hauled you through the estate from the chambers beneath the property, upwards into the body of his family house and upstairs towards your bedroom.
As soon as the door to the door closed over, Titus was upon you, pushing himself into you and kissing you with fevering hunger.
"Stand there, let me look at you." Titus instructed as he moved your shoulders to the side before stepping back a little to look you over like a sculpture scrutinising his latest work.
Look at you
A vision in wine red.
And absolutely mine.
Titus waved away the notion of traditional black lace and satin for your wedding dress. Reds and burgundies adorned your body, it was Titus' favourite shade against your beautiful skin tone. He stepped closer to you, circling you as his eyes shamelessly raked over your form, savouring how delicious you looked in your wedding dress.
"You won't walk until next week, you understand that, right?" Titus grumbled into the crook of your neck, enjoying the way your soft laugh rumbled up from within you and against his mouth as it continued to explore your neck and shoulders.
"You look very handsome yourself." You said as your eyes roamed over Titus' wedding apparel. "I'm torn as whether I want you to fuck me with clothes on or not." You salaciously grinned at Titus as he took your hand and kissed your finger tips, his eyes briefly admiring the family signet ring now adorning your left hand.
"You can have me either way, but one things for sure-" Titus said as he licked across your bloody stained fingers. "You're getting out of that dress."
Titus' hand reached out and gripped the back of your wedding dress before twisting and tugging it asunder, ripping the zipper in the back and freeing your chest and soft stomach to him. The dress itself pooled a little, and with Titus' help, he roughly pushed it off your body.
"No underwear?" Titus smiled proudly as he looked over your familiar nude figure. Countless times he had seen you, naked as the day you were born and spoiled your flesh a hundred times over. But it never lessened the impact he felt in seeing your natural form.
"Would slow us down." You answered coyly, feeding off Titus' grin as he stepped into you, kicking the dress to the side with his polished wedding shoes.
He took your face in both hands again and kissed you, hungrily claiming your mouth and nipping at your lips with his sharp, crooked teeth. You moaned unashamedly against Titus as he continued to kiss you, his head turning to deepen it and press his tongue into your mouth to seek out your own.
Titus walked you both in the direction of the bed, delighting in the way your hands clawed and gripped at his waistcoat, either for stability or to remove it, he wasn't sure, but he appreciated your strength on him.
"Titus...I need you." You pulled back with a gasp, your head tilting backwards as your husband sunk his lips and teeth into the sensitive flesh upon your throat.
"Say it, say what you want." Titus grunted against your collarbones as his hands squeezed and pulled at the abundant curves of your hips, digging his fingers in so deep you were certain he'd leave marks again.
"I want you to fuck me. I don't care how, I don't care if you keep your clothes on, or lose them...but I need you...I need you Titus...please." You panted and gasped as Titus bore his teeth a little deeper into the crook of your neck and shoulder, a wet chomping sound coming from Titus' mouth as he held you with his teeth.
"Take what's yours." Titus said as he brought his face back up to yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as he smoothed his hands upwards and across your soft breasts. "Take it all, show me how badly you want me to fuck you."
You grabbed Titus by the back of the head and pulled him into another frenzied kiss, all the while slipping your hands to his waistcoat to undo his buttons. As soon as he was free, you tossed the waistcoat to the side, and curled your fingers around the collar of his shirt.
"Show me." Titus repeated against your mouth, his hands reaching up to cup your elbows before holding the back of your biceps.
You gripped Titus' collar, and sharply pulled at either side, sending buttons flying across the room in different directions. Titus felt his cock twitch and press against the front of his slacks when your biceps tightened under the skin, a reminder that beneath your sweet and soft exterior, you were just as powerful as he. That your body was trained to kill, and had done so many times before as he had witnessed hunt after hunt.
Titus grinned from ear to ear as you both kept eye contact whilst pushing the ruined shirt off his body and down his thick arms. He enjoyed the game you both played when making love, as if daring one another to look away first, neither one to falter. Evenly matched in the bedroom, at least...for the most part.
"So perfect." You whispered as you finally broke eye contact and looked over Titus' naked torso and arms, your nails scratching upon his raised traps and rounded shoulders, sampling his thin little scars and marks from his own hunting injuries.
"You're not done." Titus criticised, his voice raspy with need.
"I'm taking my time." You argued, raising a brow at him.
"Hurry up." He said, snatching at your hand and bringing it to the front of his pants.
You let out a shameless moan as did Titus when you squeezed his erection through his pressed wedding slacks. Whilst you fumbled and undid his belt, button and fly - you kissed, mouth to mouth, to chin, to jawline, anywhere you could find Titus you kissed and nipped.
Titus' eyes looked down to where your hands were busy rubbing him through his boxers, noting the wrapped bandage around the hand he had wounded in your palm. A symbol of your union, his claim to you.
"Gimme your hand." Titus huffed as you squeezed him just right, forcing a tick from his jaw.
He had already seized your wrist and had brought it up to scrutinize the black bindings. He unknotted the wrap, and allowed the fabric to flutter down to the floor, revealing your bloody wound. Parts of it were already dried over with congealed blood, yet other sections looked fresh with deep ruby beads welling up from where Titus had pulled the fabric as it stuck to the wound itself.
"Titus." You smiled knowingly, recognising the familiar glint in your husband's eye.
"Let me have my pleasures." Titus gruffed as he leaned in close to inhale your palm, smelling the faint metallic and warm scent of your wound.
Just as you pulled Titus' cock from his boxers, he licked a long lingering stripe across your palm.
"Oh...Titus." You moaned and hissed, a mixture of arousal and sharp stinging in the hand mixing together deliciously.
Titus held your hand to his mouth as he continued to lick and sample your blood, cleaning your skin of the mess whilst enjoying the fresh warmth of the wound. Your blood turned Titus on something awful, particularly in small doses; a love bite, a tiny scratch here and there. He had sampled it after hunts where you had sustained injuries, nicks and cuts after hunts. It was akin to certain snake venoms, less always meant more.
"You won't last like this." You teased, amused at how drunk Titus seemed to be, what with your hand cupped around his hungry mouth and your other tightly wrapped and stroking at his thick cock, already feeling your hand grow warm and slick with his precum.
Titus glowered over your hand, his hazel eyes glinting in the warm light of the bedroom. Suddenly, he took his mouth off your palm and pushed carefully at your soft stomach so that you fell backwards onto the bed in a heap.
"Pick a position, I don't care which." Titus said as he began pushing his boxers and slacks down the length of his legs, his cock swaying and twitching now that he could see your entire anatomy upon the bed.
"Such a romantic." You playfully criticised him.
"Maybe I should fill that mouth first?" Titus reasoned, quirking a dangerous brow your way.
Titus crawled onto the bed, pausing as you reached to push on his shoulder and turn you both over so that he lay flat on his back, his cock erect and pointing up to the bed's canopy. Titus allowed you to swing your right leg over him and effectively straddle his thighs, his cock resting against your stomach. Whilst you looked down at him, you noticed your blood decorating the corners of Titus' mouth.
"I want your hand." You said, nodding down at Titus' palm which you had cut open.
"Thought it was my dick you wanted?." Titus grinned when you smacked his shoulder. You chuckled deep within your chest and shook your head. Titus adored the way your hair, messy and free from your bridal hairpins, fell around your face and shoulders.
"Hand. Now." You firmly demanded, smiling down at your husband and watching as he held out his palm to you.
"Gimme yours." Titus muttered childishly as he began to undo his own bandage around his palm.
As instructed, you gave him your hand, and immediately he applied it to his mouth, eager to taste your blood again as if he were a man taking his first sip of water in weeks.
You watched for a moment, listening to the wet snuffling sound Titus made as he lapped at your wound. Then, you looked into the palm of Titus' right hand, noting your mark you had made and the dried blood clinging to his skin. Your family's dagger was indeed the smaller of the two, and despite leaving a mark in Titus' palm, it was a thin and significantly less crude mark compared to Titus' heavier blade. Perhaps you would mention it to the offspring whom would eventually inherit the family blade, perhaps not.
Titus' hips bucked against you as you ran your tongue along his wound, licking him clean of blood. You felt yourself tip forward a little as Titus bent his knees, sliding you a little closer towards his aching cock, his thick thighs supporting your ass and lower back.
"Sit on it." Titus growled against your hand, sending a ticklish vibrating up your right forearm.
"So demanding." You smirked with a purr, briefly turning your head from Titus' palm to smile at him.
Titus felt his heart stutter as you looked down at him; naked, wild hair, straddling him and his throbbing cock, with his blood on your lips and chin.
"So fucken beautiful" Titus mused as he took his free hand and cupped your cheek, smoothing his thumb back and forth across your face.
You practically purred and sighed as Titus fawned over you, whispering sweet nothings as he sat up a little more with you securely in his lap still.
So beautiful
So fucken beautiful
All mine...you're all mine...forever
You were made for me
My violent little muse
I’ll fuck you so good n thorough
You felt a swell of pride overcome you as Titus muttered his words into your chest, his gray stubble contrasting with his plush bloody lips as he kissed across your collar bones as well as the tops of your breasts, licking briefly at your soft nipples.
As Titus muttered his devotion and claims to you against your anatomy, you lifted yourself up a little higher, positioning your slick entrance above the tip of Titus' cock. He looked up at you as you slowly sank down onto him, feeling the way his body stretched and filled you in the only way you ever needed.
"Fuck" You whine, your brows knitted together and your confidence waning a fraction as your mind unravelled with pleasure.
Thankfully, Titus knew to take control, he allowed you the illusion of it when being physical and intimate, but ultimately - he controlled all.
"Good girl." Titus sighed as you finally sunk him to the hilt, your ass pressing against his lap as the tip of his cock nudged the deepest part of you.
"T-Titus." You whimpered, keening as Titus' fingers clawed at your as to roll your hips around upon him.
"You know what to do." Titus reaffirmed. "You've done it before, s'no different, show me how much you want my body."
As if to help you begin, Titus took his free hand to grip your waist, and moved his hips. You immediately moaned out his name, turning your attention into his bloody hand and rubbing your face into it.
Look at you, utterly divine.
"Good girl, take it...take what's yours..." Titus praised you, once he felt you begin to regain some control of your body and swivel your hips against his, he took back your bloody hand and pressed it to his mouth.
The sensation of tasting your blood and flesh, as well as having his cock buried deep inside of you as you moaned his name, was enough to make Titus' head swim with euphoria. Indeed, lasting under such circumstances would be a task.
You looked between Titus' thick, calloused fingers to observe his face; his brows tight and his eyes half shut as he mouthed against your palm, groaning and snuffling as he licked hungrily at your wound. It stung and tickled at the same time, a sensation on the nerves to say the least.
"You...fuck...look so...ugh-beautiful." You groaned, committing Titus' expression and naked body to memory.
You had fucked in every sense of the word. The first night you two had met during one of Ursula's council parties, you did it, hidden away from prying eyes in one of the many rooms to the Danforth estate. From that point on, your bodies were drawn to one another, as if two pieces of a puzzle.
"Mine...all mine..." Titus muffled into your palm as he fucked his hips upwards into you.
"Shit! T-Titus I...I can't...I...fuck." Your whimpered pathetically, your walls were crumbling as you continued to fuck Titus, anchoring your body with your hand wrapped across his mouth for stability.
Titus pulled his hand away from you, sitting upright swiftly and flipping you both over so you fell under him against the mattress. You barely gasped for air between your moans as Titus pressed his mouth against yours, bloody and saliva coated. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, with Titus ultimately hooking his arms under your thighs to keep you in place as he re-aligned his cock with your pussy.
"Titus...Titus..." You repeated his name, as if nothing else could be fathomed in your mind.
"Now look who’s messy" Titus mused as he smoothed his cock through your slick cunt, frotting himself against you. "Hmm? Is this all you want? My dick…my blood…my love"
You shivered and trembled at the thighs as the head of Titus' cock nudged against your sensitive clit, sending a ripple of pleasure through your nervous system.
"Titus...please...don't tease..." You sobbed as your body practically ached for him inside of you again.
Titus grinned, he always did at this point - when you couldn't bare to be without him, as if a minute longer without his body would kill you. It was a feeling similar to the one he felt when hunting nobodies through his estate. The rush and thrill of being begged to for mercy before giving his victims the sweet release.
"You're so pretty when you beg." Titus said, barely above a whisper and in a condescending tone he knew you hated to love, before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
"Titus" You hissed, chewing your lip and tasting the residual blood from Titus' palm as well as your own from your lip.
"I've got you." He wolfishly smirked. “Dig your nails into me.”
Like an animal with retracting claws, you angled your fingers to sink your nails into Titus biceps, listening to him huff out a strangled breath of pleasure at the sting. As if spurred by it, Titus began rutting his hips into you, skin slapping against skin mixing loudly with your cries and moans.
“Thats good…don’t be shy…don’t ever be shy, not like this.” Titus gruffed. “I want to hear you…I want everyone to hear…how much…you want this.”
“T-Titus! Oh fuck! O-Oh!” You cried upwards towards Titus as he fucked you, his hands at either side of your body balling and gripping at the sheets.
“Gimme your hand” Titus grit through his teeth between firm thrusts.
You understood that he wanted your bloody hand, and unlatched your nails from his arm to hover your palm at his mouth. Titus glowered down at you as you smeared your palm across his stubbly chin and lips, messing his mouth with your blood.
Titus’ hips stuttered as the deliciously intoxicating taste of your wounded flesh met his tongue again. Your blood was richer and more addicting than anything he had ever sampled, and seemingly enhanced the experience of fucking you.
“Such a mess” You panted with an utterly blissed expression, your tone warbling with the impact of each of Titus’ thrusts.
“Speak for yourself” Titus snuffled against your hand as he nodded down to where your bodies joined, an arousal slicked mess of both your bodies coating one another. The practically pornographic wet sound of your lower halves meeting, filled the bedroom.
You laughed, heartily and drunk from Titus and the euphoria of him pleasuring you. He adored you like this, messy and feral, tangled in his limbs as he ruined you. You were his, only his, marrying you was non negotiable after his first encounter with you, it was as if a switch flicked in his brain, that prey drive within Titus' brain to chase and latch his teeth into what he wanted. And you were all to happy to let him.
He snapped his hips suddenly, carving through your erotic hysteria and watching your face turn from amusement to pained bliss. You were close, Titus knew it well, that way your face scrunched up, eyes pleading for him and your mouth parted, moaning and gasping little ‘oh’s.
“T-Titus! I…I’m…I-“
“Do it. Come on my dick and show me that beautiful face, I want it.” Titus demanded as he increased his speed as much as his body would allow, his muscles taught as he slammed his hips into yours.
Sure enough, with three more thrusts, you came hard, gasping and screaming your voice hoarse, followed with Titus’ name as you chanted it like a prayer. You were swiftly silenced as he cupped his bloody hand over your mouth, proud of you as your trembling hands covered his large paw and held it against your face. Your eyes fluttered as Titus fucked you through your orgasm whilst you licked and tasted his wound.
That's it...taste me...
I'm a part of you in every way my love
Woven together...forever...
“F-Fuck…Im…-“ Titus barely formed his words as he thrust himself deep inside of your pulsing cunt as it continued to sporadically tighten around his slick cock.
You muffled a moan into his palm as he grunted out your name, his brows raising momentarily as he was awash with bliss, spilling deep inside of you as he ground himself from side to side, circling his hips against yours.
Titus took his hand off your mouth to keep himself stable as he remained atop and above you, panting and sweating against your equally spent body. Both of your mouths were a midden of saliva and blood, sweat coating your skin and your thighs coated with release.
“Still alive?” Titus huskily muttered as he looked you over, nuzzling your cheek and pecking you.
“What a way to die.” You breathlessly chuckled as your head turned to rest against Titus'.
“M’not letting you go that easily.” Titus warned as he kissed the shell of your ear.
You trembled as Titus licked along your neck, up your jawline, nuzzling at you to turn back to face him before kissing and lapping his blood from your chin and lips. You caught his mouth with the tip of your tongue, and cupped his face with your good hand to bring him closer, his weight bearing down onto you as he rested against you.
“Don’t” You whispered against Titus' lips as you felt him try to slip his slowly softening cock from you. “Don’t leave me. I want to savour this.” You admitted as your eyes roamed over Titus’ messy face.
Titus grinned crookedly at your request, and was more than happy to accept. He shuffled around a little and began to lower his weight. He watched as you removed the hand that was resting against his chest, leaving a light and bloody handprint upon his skin.
You.
“Together” You sighed, reaching your arms to wrap around Titus’ head and hug him to your body.
Titus mirrored you subconscious gesture, and flattened his palm into your chest, leaving his own faint and bloody handprint upon you.
“Forever” Titus grumbled as he rested his weight against your, his hands scooping under your body as he softened against you in your embrace.
NOW HOLD ON! HOLD ON! I have a very good reason for this.
I had written out chapter nine, and whilst it was satisfactory….nothing happened. I read and re read it and honestly…nothing shifted forward, and I was so torn between just posting it to make a deadline or scrapping it and making it better.
So I chose the latter.
Therefore, chapter nine and ten are basically becoming one, and will be a lengthier chapter.
Now as a follow up to this, there may come a time where I will read over memory of you entirely and give it a face lift (perhaps when its finished entirely).
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Sammy Bryant x Reader: Sammy catches you checking him out whilst in uniform and teases you for it.
A short n sweet little flirty fic! (set in the same storyline as Feed The Soul)
Mindless fluff n teasing! Mentions: sexual themes, flirting, kissing, Sammy being a sarcastic pest, established relationship (gf/bf). (let me know if I've missed anything!)
----
It had been a long day, and Sammy was more than relieved to finally be getting through the front door and get to wrap his arms around you after it. You had messaged him at work to come around to your place to eat after he had mentioned barely having any time to squeeze in dinner if he wasn't getting it cooked by you.
At first he felt rotten that you were cooking for him (again), but after some arm twisting and reassurance on your part, you managed to settle down his worries. You loved cooking, but moreover you loved cooking for others, especially Sammy. It was your love language, and Sammy was more than happy to accept it.
Sammy set down his things by the couch, and tilted his head towards the kitchen where he saw you, but more poignantly; where he could smell something delicious coming from.
"You gonna stand there or come and kiss me Bryant." You said, keeping your eyes cast downward at the food on the stove.
"How the hell did you hear me?" Sammy frowned as he began to approach you from behind.
"You walk like a herd of elephants." You lightly teased. "Now get over here, I need your mouth." You said, much to Sammy's delight.
"Don't need to tell me twice." he huffed.
"I mean come taste this." You clarified with a smirk and shook your head at the crossed wires. "Then kiss me."
"Yes Ma'am." Sammy closed the gap between you, his hands assuming the position on your soft hips as he brought his mouth down to your neck and shoulder. He was grateful you had taken to wearing his baggy, ratty old gym shirts as it meant they were loose enough to fall open at the perfect spots around your neck and shoulders, exposing his favourite parts of your anatomy to kiss (or at least a few of his favourite parts).
"Hey, c'mere." You said as you twisted a little in Sammy's arms. "Open." You gently instructed as you raised the wooden spoon up to Sammy's mouth.
He leaned in and took the offered spoonful of risotto, humming at the warmth and creamy texture as he sampled it across his tongue.
"S'good." He nodded and swallowed before leaned in to kiss your cheek, admiring the pleased smile gracing your features as you nodded and turned back to the stove. "Now can I kiss you?" He impatiently said.
Smiling, you set down the spoon and reached up for Sammy's cheeks to bring him down to you. Sammy smiled against your lips as he kissed you, light and soft pecks at first before applying a long, lingering kiss, humming in relaxation against your mouth.
"Hey." He smiled lazily like an idiot, lids half shut as he looked you over.
"Hey." You returned, feeling your stomach flip a little with how Sammy was roaming over you with his glinting, hazel eyes.
It was only then that you noticed Sammy's cold, metallic badge under your fingertips, and indeed that he was still in his uniform.
"Yeah, sorry, I didn't have time to get outta my uniform." Sammy said, noticing how you scrutinised his clothes. Usually when he'd come over he'd be in jeans and a t-shirt or something casual, but tonight he simply didn't get away from his work soon enough to get a change of clothes.
"Uh huh." You nodded in acknowledgement before separating to tend to the dinner on the stove. "So how was your day, officer." You playfully teased as you raised the wooden spoon up to your own mouth to sample the risotto for yourself.
"Nothing too crazy, I got stuck with speeding duty so I was trapped in the car for several hours. Then in the office sorting out Ben's shit show of paperwork that he's been draggin his heels for over a month now. So, captain asked if I could help move things along." Sammy explained as he rubbed his eyes and leaned against the countertop. "And then, this afternoon - hey." Sammy abruptly halted.
You flicked your eyes up from where you unaware had been lingering on Sammy's uniform, confused and on the spot as he smiled curiously at you.
"You're checking me out." Sammy said, turning to face you with his arms folded.
"What? No I wasn't." You frowned offensively.
"You were checkin me out just now." Sammy repeated, practically brimming with amusement.
"No, I wasn't." You denied and turned back to the stove to look down into the bubbling pot of risotto.
"You were, I was watching you." Sammy grinned and tilted his head. "You were totally checkin me out just now."
"I was just looking at your uniform, I've never seen you done up in it before is all." You shrugged and continued stirring, telling yourself the sudden heat in your cheeks was from the steam off the cooking.
"Yes you have, you see me in the diner in my uniform almost every other morning." Sammy countered as he unfolded his arms and stepped a little closer towards you.
"Yeah but just...that was before you and I...before we became...it was under a different context." You flimsily excused. Sammy enjoyed watching the way your hair swished from side to side as you shook your head, all the while with your back towards him.
"Hey, turn around and look at me." Sammy said, reaching out to softly tap your elbows as not to make your hands slip on one of the pots and cause a casualty.
You switched off all the burners, set lids on top of everything so it kept, and brushed your hands clean together before turning around and looking at Sammy with a smile and a quirked brow.
"What?" You finally said, sounding like an irked teen that had just been caught doing something they shouldn't have.
"You were checkin me out." Sammy repeated again, reeling at how you rolled your eyes and shook your head at his boyish glee.
"You're enjoying this far too much y'know." You said, trying to sound annoyed but Sammy could only see the blush blooming at the tips of your ears.
"You like me in uniform." Sammy smugly noted. "C'mon, admit it. You think I look good."
"I think you look...smart." You said, trying to downplay your true feelings towards seeing Sammy done up.
"Uh huh." Sammy said, unconvinced as he took your hands in his and made you stand right in front of him. "You like me in uniform." He repeated. "Just admit it."
You began to move around the kitchen, stepping slowly away from Sammy as you noted the glint in his mischievous eyes. You could feel the heat flushing in full glory now in your cheeks as you tried to contain your nervous smile.
"Look at you, all bashful." Sammy smirked and teased, stalking around the kitchen island after you as you evaded him with each backwards step you took to keep the distance.
"Stop." You smirked. "Sammy. Stop right there."
"You got the hots for me in uniform." Sammy noted, tilting his head to the side. "C'mon, admit it."
"Stop it." You urged, giggling like a little school girl as Sammy stepped closer to you.
"You've gone all stupid on me." Sammy continued, utterly excited that he had you acting all silly and shy.
"Sammy" You warned again with a pointed finger held up. "I'm being serious."
"I'm gonna need you to come with me for further questioning Ma'am." Sammy said as he went to grab you, but missed, allowing you to duck and dive out from under his arm with an excitable squeal.
Sammy stomped after you as you ran away from him laughing, and into the living room.
"Suspect has fled the scene, proceeding on foot to apprehend and take to the bedroom for further interrogating." Sammy grinned as he swiftly followed you, observing you as you stood with the couch and coffee table separating the both of you.
"Sammy! Sammy stop acting like an idiot, we're gonna break something." You said, though your nervous laughter betrayed how much you were actually enjoying being chased around the apartment by Sammy, in uniform no less.
"I'm gonna need you to come quietly...or loudly...I know you're a screamer." Sammy winked as he braced against the back of the sofa, drumming his fingers along the back of it as he looked you over.
"Sammy!" You blanched at his salacious comment, and the pair of your burst out laughing.
"Just admit to the charges." Sammy shrugged.
"What charges would that be, officer?" You laughed, playing Sammy at his own fantasy.
"That you find me utterly irresistible in uniform." Sammy grinned widely and winked at you again.
"I deny all claims." You giggled and dug your heels in, feeling a wave of excitement surging through you.
"Then you'll have to come with me." He said, low and threatening.
You side stepped to the right, to which Sammy mirrored, then to the left, again Sammy repeated. You were cornered, and didn't have time to think as Sammy leapt over the couch with ease and came around the coffee table to catch and scoop you up over his shoulder.
"Sammy! Sammy no!" You practically squealed and wriggled in his grasp as he began marching through the living room with you across him fireman style.
"Resisting arrest, serious offense." Sammy sarcastically called over the back of him to you, and swatted your backside.
"Sammy! The dinner!" You tried to make your excuses, but it was done for.
"You have the right to remain silent." He chuckled deep in his chest as he crossed the threshold to your bedroom before kicking the door shut with his boot.
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Sammy Bryant x Reader: Sammy is always one bite away from a meal before his radio or partner yanks him away. So, the reader recommends him a good spot to get food after work….it just so happens to be their apartment complex…
Sammy Bryant x Reader: Sammy is always one bite away from a meal before his radio or partner yanks him away. So, the reader recommends him a good spot to get food after work….it just so happens to be their apartment complex…
READ PART ONE HERE
Golly goodness gosh! I didn't expect so many of you to enjoy this little story! Here's a part two where Sammy and the Reader have their 'thursday' dinner date. Let me know if you guys want a Part 3 for this!
(Mentions: Shameless yearning/pining/flirting, cursing, smooches suggestive themes (no smut this time around), Sammy and reader being sarcastic little flirts with one another.
Enjoy!
"She made you a whole steak dinner?" Sammy's partner exclaimed, jealousy laced in his tone after Sammy had finished telling him about his dinner date -though not officially a date but sort of was a date? A pre-date?- with you the other night.
"And extra for lunch." Sammy said, unable to hide his prideful grin as he tapped on top of the plastic container you had given him last night, filled with the extra garlic seasoned steak, buttery fluffy mashed potatoes and a few asparagus spears for added measure.
"And you're seeing her again on thursday? At her place? For another home cooked meal?" His partner said, wide eyed as Sammy tried to contain his amusement.
"Yup." Sammy smirked.
"Marry her. Marry her man, or I will." His partner shook his head in disbelief, all the while looking at the small bundle of tinfoil on the dashboard of the squad car, containing a questionable burrito from a roadside seller.
------
At the station, Sammy re-heated the leftovers you had made for him, the warmed up aroma of the meal attracting several of his colleagues, all of which began to glower at him and complain about their own pitiful lunch options.
My husband just handed me a few slices of cold pizza...
I got the last two bags of Cheetos from the vending machine...
Anyone wanna trade their lunch for a Hershey's bar that's been in my locker for three months? It’s only a little melted…
The sad complaints from his colleagues only made Sammy feel all the more smug for his prized lunch. Delicious even a day later and re-heated in the shitty office microwave. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so well at work; the usual fixings were either sourced from vending machines, hot dog stands or taco trucks during patrols if you were lucky enough to find the time, or the food served in the dingy cafeteria which almost no one went near, lest they wanted stomach problems on duty.
Can't have you starving Your words echoed in Sammy's mind as he ate the last few forkfuls of his lunch before sitting back and admiring the empty container. He plucked his cell phone out from his pocket and searched for your number, having saved it from the note you had handed him the other night to find your place.
Thanks for lunch, my whole work want to kill me and marry you now - S
Sammy hit send, and got up to make himself some coffee and wash out your container, before resigning himself to desk and admin duty for the remainder of his shift. Whilst the pot filled, he felt his cellphone vibrate and chime with a response.
Glad you found time to eat it. Your whole work wanna marry me? That's a lot of mouths to feed, and I doubt my little apartment can house that many people...
Sammy huffed an amused smirk whilst he read your response, taking his coffee back to his desk and sitting down. Usually, when it came to admin work, Sammy could barely face it. He always felt unmotivated and tired, lacking so much energy to simply conquer the mountain of admin stacked on his desk. But actually, having fuelled himself properly, he felt...fine. Good even.
Time seemed to fly by effortlessly as he applied himself, stamping, marking, signing, reading, sorting out paperwork and photocopying. It didn't go unnoticed by his otherwise bored colleagues.
"Did your little lady friend put something in those mashed potatoes Sammy? Your ass has been a blur with how productive you've been around the office today." One of the other cops in the office chuckled as he sauntered across the room, tapping a file on Sammy's shoulder.
"Shut up." Sammy shook his head dismissively at the ribbing, batting his colleague's folder off him. Though secretly he liked that they referred to you as his 'little lady friend'.
"Hey, she single? I might swoop in there before you get your fingers in. Get a little taste of heaven myself" Another colleague joked, though it made Sammy grit his teeth at the crudeness of his comment.
"Hey man knock it off." Sammy said, a little snappier than intended, but he didn't like the way the conversation was turning.
"Alright alright, wouldn't want to come between you and your food or girl, fat boy.”
"Lay off, or you'll struggle to eat your next meal with no teeth dipshit." Sammy's partner casually threatened the mouthy colleague, who rolled his eyes and waved them away, muttering 'was just jokin' as he slunk back to his corner of the office.
"Thanks dude." Sammy said as he continued to work.
"No problem." His partner responded. "Seriously though man, marry her before someone else does." Sammy's partner repeated from the desk opposite him, a smirk toying on his lips.
-----
After a quick shower and change out of his uniform into casual clothes, Sammy gathered up the remainder of his things and left the station. He felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket whilst he walked through the parking lot to his car.
-I'm grocery shopping for Thursday, how does Italian sound?
Sammy smiled, genuine and heartfelt at your message. There was something to be said about a person texting you after a long day's work, especially when it came to food and asking what you wanted. For Sammy, it felt like a hug to the soul.
Italian sounds perfect, but let me tag along for the ride? - S
-You wanna come grocery shopping with me?
I wanna pay for the ingredients if you're cooking them, it's the least I can do - S
Sammy waited for your response, and it quickly arrived with the store you were heading out to, and where he could meet up with you.
------------------------------------------------
“Pass me the list” You said to Sammy as you walked through the grocery store.
“Gimme the basket” Sammy bargained with a shrug, though he was already taking the basket from the sling of your arm.
"So demanding." You tried to hide your amusement at his playfulness as you fully relinquished the basket to him.
“We need buffalo mozzarella” You hummed whilst reading the shopping list you had put together, turning into another isle with Sammy towing behind you.
Truthfully, Sammy had only even been in the snack isles, never really venturing into the produce or even deli portion of the stores when visiting to stock up his pitiful bachelor fridge. He watched you navigate the vibrant isles with ease, as if the map to it was imprinted on your brain.
His imagination began to flourish, as if this was a normal weekly thing for you two, as a couple. Food shopping together after work, unwinding and discussing meals, how your days had been ect.
“So let me get this right, the whole office made fun of you for having a packed lunch?” You smirked over your shoulder at Sammy, breaking his daydream and bringing him back to reality.
“Jealousy is a terrible thing." Sammy mused smugly. "You better start accepting marriage proposals, things could get ugly.”
“I will when the right person shows up” You teased as you grabbed some ingredients and tossed them into the basket Sammy carried.
Me. Im the right person. Sammy greedily thought as he watched you walk down the isle.
“What’s left on the list?” Sammy asked as he walked up to you reading said grocery list, trying to make himself a part of the process, despite knowing full well he had no idea what the hell you were going to make or where the necessary ingredients would be in the store.
“Ladies fingers” You said, looking to Sammy when he puffed a childish smirk. "What?"
“S’usually reserved for a third date but I won't complain.” He grinned boyishly.
“This is our first date, and if you want to still be invited along to it, cut the lewd jokes Bryant.” You smirked as you scalded Sammy, shaking your head and moving onwards to the next isle.
——
Thursday couldn't come soon enough for Sammy; towards the lead up he had been a bundle of energy, much to the detriment of his partner who had to sit beside him and his terminally delightful demeanour.
Sammy arrived at your apartment and gingerly knocked on the front door. He had offered to bring along some wine for you, the least he could offer seeing as you had strong armed him into to letting you cook for him once again.
"Well well well, look who made it." You smiled as you opened the door. "Get in here and help."
"Help?" Sammy frowned a little as you left him to enter the apartment as you disappeared back inside.
"You thought you were only offering wine tonight? No no, you're giving me a hand with this dinner." You called over your shoulder to him as Sammy closed the front door and hung up his coat next to yours in the hallway.
Sammy sauntered into the familiar surroundings of your home, watching as you went into the kitchen where you had already set out a bottle of beer for him on the kitchen island.
He couldn't help but admire you in your outfit, despite it's simplicity, you looked perfect to him. For a brief moment, he lost his sense of thought, opting to just stand and look you over from behind, paying particular attention to the way your jeans hugged your backside.
"C'mon, wash your hands and help. You're not getting fed for free Bryant." You smiled as you felt Sammy hesitating behind you, little did you know he wasn't hesitating, but taking the scene in.
"I did offer to go out for dinner, would have paid for somewhere really nice." Sammy argued a little as he went to the sink and began washing his hands.
"Ahaha! but then you wouldn't be able to gloat to your colleagues about cooking up a meal." You smirked and tapped your temple.
Sammy nodded, amused, and looked to his side where you were busy at the stove, a bubbling pot of what he recognised as the pasta ribbons you and he picked up the other day at the grocery store.
"Get over here and help." You urged again, smiling at him.
"Yes Ma'am." Sammy responded in a mocking tone.
You got him to help you split and decant peas into a steel bowl, ignoring his question about 'wouldn't a bag of frozen peas be easier?'. Once there were enough peas to go between you both, Sammy watched you gather up some more ingredients.
"Cut that lemon in half, and squeeze the juices into the mortar." You said as you handed off a lemon to Sammy.
"The hell is a mortar?" Sammy frowned, but took the lemon and retrieved the knife by the cutting board.
You snarkily scooched the granite bowl along and towards Sammy, smirking at him.
"This is a Mortar, raise your hand next time you have a question." You teased.
"Shut up." Sammy shook his head at the gesture, but mostly because your smile was beginning to work him up into a bashful frenzy. "Just because you know cooking stuff doesn't mean you get to boss me around."
"If you wanna eat it does." You played back, nodding at the half cut lemon in Sammy's paw. "C'mon, squeeze it."
"Say please." Sammy smirked and winked at you, earning him a tap on the arm from you.
"You're on thin ice Bryant." You warned and turned your attention back to the boiling pot of pasta before things got carried away. "So, how was your day?" You asked as you stirred.
"Was fine, had paperwork coming outta my ass but I got it done." Sammy nodded as he crushed both lemon halves into the mortar, before curiously searching for a trash can, which you nodded in the direction of next to the fridge.
Suddenly, something overcame Sammy. A warmth, that...perhaps this was all he wanted. He looked at you as you stood by the countertop, reaching up to your little hanging baskets filled with different shaped plants, picking handfuls and dropping them into the mortar.
This could be us. Cooking together after a shift, discussing how our days were? Normal...cosy...a couple in a routine...
"Hey I'm not done with you, need you to grind this up." You called over to Sammy, your finger tapping on the rim of the mortar.
Sammy returned to your side, allowing you to splash in what you informed him was a mixture of; extra virgin olive oil, basil, two cloves of garlic, pine nuts and a fistful of grated parmesan. He took the pestle (as you dutifully informed him of it’s name) from the side of the mortar and began to grind up the ingredients you had measured out by eyeball and ease.
"What is this?" Sammy asked as he looked down at the lush green paste he was grinding the ingredients into.
"Pesto." You answered, looking over at his efforts. "Y'never had it?" You asked curiously.
"Do I look like the type of guy who eats stuff like pesto?" Sammy chuckled and shook his head from side to side.
"You will be after this." You smirked, cocky as you allowed yourself a moment to admire Sammy's thick, muscular forearms as he ground the ingredients together.
"You're staring missy." Sammy mused as he caught your eye.
"M'not."
"You are, you're checkin me out." Sammy chuckled as he continued to work over the pestle.
"I was 'checkin out' the pesto, and whether or not you ground it up too much." You blatantly lied as you peered into the mortar. "Looks good, you can leave it now."
"Whatever you say Chef." Sammy remarked as he brushed his hands together. "What next?" He asked.
"You, can grab the prosciutto out the fridge, and pour me a glass from the bottle of white you kindly brought with you." You said with an impish tone, all the while you took out a ribbon end of pasta to check how cooked it was.
"Proscootoo?" Sammy frowned as he went to the fridge.
"It's written on the paper it's wrapped up in." You informed whilst you lowered the temperature on the pasta as it neared the right density.
Sure enough, amongst your ingredients middle shelf - was a white parcel with 'prosciutto' written in pen on it. Sammy took it and the bottle of chilled white wine out.
"Here, lemme get you a glass for this." Sammy said as he handed you the package of prosciutto before turning to the cupboard where he knew from last time you kept the glasses in.
It was your turn to feel that warm, tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach. That maybe this was something you could get used to. Part of you felt silly, that this was only (technically) your first date with Sammy. And yet it felt so…easy…so care free compared to dates you had experienced in the past. It was like you had been together for months, years even. In a way you had, all those morning shifts where you'd cook and bring him his coffee and breakfast at the diner, or occasionally he and his partner would pop in to grab some doughnuts and briefly chat to you before leaving for a new call out.
But that was Sammy, he was easy to get along with. And certainly easy to look at.
“You’re checkin me out again.” Sammy coyly remarked, watching you as he poured you a glass of wine.
You didn’t reply, you just shrugged with an airy ‘hmph’ as if to agree flippantly. Sammy’s smirk deepened as he felt he had finally pinned you. He didn't mind, mostly because he had spent every spare moment checking you out.
“So, how was your day?” Sammy asked you this time, briefly setting the glass of wine down to screw the cap back onto the bottle, before handing you over the glass.
“Busy." You answered with a sigh as you took the glass and leaned your back against the countertop. "We got construction workers coming in from across the street, building renovations or something.” You frowned and sipped.
“Anyways, one of the kitchen staff wants to ask out one of the construction workers who comes in practically every day. He’s had a crush on him for over a week and is convinced it’s fate.” You recalled as you sipped more of your wine.
“And did he ask em out?” Sammy asked as he reached over for his beer from the island, twisting the cap off under his strong paw-like fist and tapping the neck of the bottle against your wine glass.
“No. He came close though, today he managed to stand outside of the kitchen three feet away from the worker, so he’s making progress.” You chuckled.
“Well, not everyone has the brains nor balls to orchestrate a dinner date in their apartment under the ruse that its a 24/7 restaurant.” Sammy said pointedly with a wry smirk at you.
“Hey! That wasn’t a date.” You challenged. “That was a friend helping a friend. This is a date.” You gestured around the kitchen and between yourself and Sammy.
“Yeah yeah yeah” Sammy nodded but continued to grin at you. “Whatever you say.”
“Shut up.” You bashfully smiled and looked away.
“It was clever, cute.” Sammy said, proud that he was making you squirm a little at his teasing.
“Alright enough.” You droned. “I had to think of some reason to get you over, and it was all I could come up with.” You said as you began unwrapping the package of prosciutto.
“All you could come up with? Baby, it was very elaborate, you made up a whole thing just to get me to come over for dinner.” Sammy grinned, unaware of the pet name he had given you or the impact it had.
“Sammy”
“a whole ruse about a 24/7 restaurant”
“Sammy”
“you acted it all out beautifully I might add”
“Sammy”
He stopped and looked at your attempt to come off as annoyed or irritated, but there was an underlying feeling of mirth rippling at the surface, peeking out as a controlled smirk on your face.
If he calls me Baby again, I'm done for. You thought to yourself.
“You’re pretty when you’re mad at me.” Sammy teased, and you simply smiled at him the same way a bashful little kid does, turning away to hide yourself.
“Here, try this smart ass.” You said, taking a thin slice of prosciutto from the package for Sammy, and a piece for you, an attempt to change the conversation, or at least divert Sammy's attention away from your red cheeks.
Sammy was about to take the piece for himself from your hand, but paused just as you were raising you hand as if to feed it to him, stopping abruptly as you caught yourself. Before you could panic or get embarrassed, Sammy stepped closer and opened his mouth for you to continue. Carefully, you brought the prosciutto up to his mouth. He took it between his teeth, his soft lips briefly skimming your fingers, before chewing and tasting the rich salty thin meat.
“S’good” Sammy nodded slowly as he ate. “How’dyousay it?” He said over his mouthful.
“Prosciutto” you said as you ate your own piece.
“Proscooto” Sammy tried unsuccessfully.
“Pro-shoo-toe” You broke it down slowly for him phonetically, smiling and shaking your head as he just looked at you slightly bewildered. “Italian ham.” You gave in and turned back to the pasta.
Sammy sipped his beer and gave you space to drain the pasta at the sink, curiously savoring a small cup of pasta water by the side next to the pesto.
“Go sit, I’ll plate this up.” You instructed to Sammy and nodded to the island.
"You don't want me anymore?" Sammy said, feigning mock hurt.
"You'd make a fine chef. But an even better dinner guest." You briefly looked at him and nodded to his seat at the kitchen island. "Sit."
Swiping the wine bottle, Sammy sat down at the chair he had occupied last time he was at yours at the kitchen island. He kept his eye on you whilst you stirred in the freshly made pesto, pasta water, grated more Parmesan, sprinkled pine nuts on top, swirled up and deposited several rose bundle slices of prosciutto atop as well as a golf ball sized amount of buffalo mozzarella. Sammy enjoyed the satisfied look that graced your face as you took both plates to join him.
“Congratulations, you just cooked a meal.” You mused as you set down Sammy’s plate in front of him.
“You know I can cook.” Sammy said slightly offended. “I know almost all the settings on my microwave.” he comically boasted.
“Impressive.” You smiled and took your glass. “If you wanna change careers and try being a cook-“
“I think I’ll stick to being a cop. Would rather save lives than take em with my cooking skills.” Sammy shook his head as he tapped his beer to your glass.
“Dig in.” You encouraged as you set your wine back down after sipping it and picked up your fork.
Sammy made sure to get a forkful of everything. As soon as he put the food into his mouth, he let out a loud hum of satisfaction, much to your amusement.
“That good?” You ribbed Sammy as you ate.
“No wonder you got practically everyone in the precinct wanting to marry you” Sammy shook his head as he tucked in. “Seriously, you better start considering proposals, otherwise you’ll have an angry mob at the door.”
“Mm, I might...your partner still single?” You said, trying to rile up Sammy. And it worked as you could feel his eyes flick up at you. “M’just playing with you Sammy.”
Sammy nodded and twirled several ribbons of pasta onto his fork.
“So…why do you like cooking so much?” He asked, pivoting the conversation a little. “Have you always liked it? Or did it come along workin in the diner?”
“I didn’t really ‘get into cooking’ until after college. Guess it was when I took up the job at the diner, I was living alone at the time and the kitchen staff taught me how to look after myself, life skills and cooking. I guess I got more interested in cooking after taking up the job.”
“Its probably that reason why I like it. Sharing skills and recipes. Food is a way of connecting people. And…I like making sure people are well fed, it’s the most basic form of affection. You show someone you care by feeding them.” You remarked wistfully as you ate.
It made sense to Sammy that this was the case, as he had only ever known you to be caring and nurturing in his time being around you. Every morning he and his partner went into the diner, you made sure he left with coffee and something to fill his stomach.
You felt yourself grow a little self conscious at how deep the conversation suddenly went, though Sammy didn’t mind, if anything it made him fall for you even more.
“How’d you become a cop?” You quickly asked, offloading the focus onto Sammy whilst you ate.
“A dare.”
“Shut up” You said in complete shock. “A dare?”
“Mmhmm, signed up after ripping a bong with my friends” Sammy said, watching as you began to laugh incredulously at him.
“You’re lying.”
“No, all true. Did it on a weed induced dare, and somehow got accepted, decided to actually apply myself m, work hard and…here I am.” He shrugged.
You just giggled, and it fed back into Sammy who joined in with you, both of you smiling and laughing like idiots.
You both continued to eat and make small talk, before finishing up with clean plates between you both. You didn't even manage to get out of your seat before Sammy scrambled to snatch your empty plate.
“You cook I clean.” He quickly answered your silent question.
“We both cooked Sammy.” You corrected as you watched him deposit the dishes into the sink.
“Just let me wash the damn dishes.” Sammy droned and shook his head at you.
“You’d make a woman very happy with that devotion to dish washing.” You mused.
“I could make you happy” Sammy flirted, feeling a little more confident with a full belly.
“Easy big guy.” You grinned and went over to the fridge as Sammy continued to clean. “Got room for desert?” You asked from the fridge door.
“What do you take me for?” Sammy remarked as he placed the dishes up onto the drying board and dried his hands off.
“I made tiramisu.” You announced as you tapped the fridge shut with your foot to produce the desert.
“Tirawhat?” Sammy asked as he looked down at the treat.
“Tiramisu” you repeated. “Its layers of coffee soaked ladies fingers, cream and cocoa powder.” You said, side stepping Sammy to grab your cake cutter from the utensil drawer.
You cut a decent square sized piece for Sammy, and handed him his plate before taking your own.
“Wanna eat on the couch?” You asked, looking at Sammy as you absent mindedly sucked the side of your thumb clean of some cocoa powder.
“Yeah. Couch is good.” he said, lingering a little too long on the way you licked your thumb clean.
You walked past him and lead the pair of you into the living room, where you sat down on one side of the couch, with Sammy sat right beside you. You curiously watched as Sammy cut the side of his fork into the tiramisu and took a hefty amount into his mouth. Once more, he hummed in delight as his taste buds screamed in euphoria.
"I think Italian night is a winner." You grinned inwardly as you ate at your piece.
"I think this is my new favourite food." Sammy shook his head a little as he looked down lovingly at his plate. "Oh my fucken god."
"You want me to leave you two alone?" You chuckled as Sammy continued to eat and fawn over his desert.
"You jealous?" Sammy said, quirking a brow at you as he took another forkful between his smiling lips.
You quickly noticed a smattering of cocoa powder and cream, peaking out the corner of Sammy's mouth as he looked at you. Without thinking, you reached forward and wiped your thumb across the corner to delicately brush away the small mess. Both of you froze up, Sammy's eyes lulling a little as he looked at you, then your hand as it slowly retracted back.
"You had...stuff." You quietly explained, though your attention was now drawn entirely to the way Sammy was looking at you. It made your insides flip, and you could feel your heart picking up it's pace.
"Yeah?" He breathed. "That right?" Sammy sighed and turned his head to look down at his plate. "Well then-"
You watched as he took his index finger, ran it lightly across what was left of the top layer of cocoa powder, and raised it up to you. Sammy tapped a little powder to the far corner of your mouth and tilted his head to admire the little mark he made.
"-so do you." He said, his voice low and husky, intended only for you as he looked at the cocoa powder mark at the corner of your lips, and up into your eyes.
You were certain Sammy could see the blush that had rapidly crept up your neck and onto your cheeks, peaking at the tips of your ears. All night, you had been comfortably confident flirting with Sammy...but now...you felt like a deer in head lights. Especially with the way his narrow eyes glinted with mischief.
"Want me to get it?" Sammy tested, gently asking you as he smiled affectionately at your flushed complexion.
"Sure." You uttered, barely above a whisper.
"Hold still baby." He instructed, his voice matching the same low frequency as yours.
Sammy set down his plate on the coffee table, then took yours from your clammy hands before turning his body fully towards you. His hazel eyes flickered across you, his soft features seemingly glowing in the warm living room light. Your skin felt as if it were prickling whilst Sammy reached his hand up to cup your chin, his thumb smoothing back and forth contemplatively before he slowly leaned forward.
The way Sammy's lips fluttered at the corner of your mouth made you shiver, it tickled and went right to all your nerve endings. He kissed away the dark and sweet cocoa powder thumbprint from your skin, making tiny kissing sounds as he did so. His tongue darted briefly out to lick a little at the remaining cocoa powder remnants before retreating back behind his lips.
"S-Sammy." You breathed, shaky and slightly needy, your nails digging into your palms to find some sort of control over yourself.
"I can stop." He offered, with what little strength and resolve he had, Sammy would halt entirely if you commanded him to.
"I didn't say that." You said, your breath fluttering across Sammy's lips as you were inches apart.
"Tell me what you want, I'll do it...I'll do whatever you want me to." Sammy mumbled. “What I said earlier, about 'making you happy'. M’serious.” He shrugged. “I would make you happy. I...I'd do anything for you...you name it...I'll do it."
"Sammy-"
"Forget it...whatever worries you got lined up in that beautiful head of yours..." Sammy shook his head, and looked earnestly into your eyes. "Forget it. I'm a goner...I'm yours baby."
Your eyes flickered across Sammy’s face, and your stomach flipped again and again at how he looked you over. Silence fell, and the atmosphere because heady and tense. All your previous confidence had seemingly vanished as you shrank under Sammy’s adoring eyes.
"I'm. Yours." he repeated softly, waiting patiently for you to reply.
I'm yours. God the words hit you right in the chest.
"I want you to kiss me." You said, somehow managing to find your voice amongst your bristling nerves. "No more joking, no more flirting...I want this...I want you...but only if you're serious." You said, the tone in your voice made Sammy understand that this was the moment that would define everything for you two.
"C'mere baby." He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he reached up both hands now to cup the sides of your face.
Your lips brushed, hesitantly at first, before both of you gave in and kissed. Instantly, all the pieces fell into place, every moment spent pining, flirting, yearning, had finally come to this.
Sammy felt your hands reach for him, your fingers slowly creeping up his cheek and around to comb through his thick auburn curls, keeping him in place as you kissed. Your other hand braced against the side of Sammy's shoulder as he turned to deepen the kiss, a low rumble emanating deep from inside his chest.
Eventually, you both came up for air, resting your foreheads against one another. A thin thread of saliva connected your lower lips, to which you reached up to delicately brush away from Sammy's mouth.
"You're gonna have to apologise to the guys in the precinct." You said, smoothing your fingers across Sammy's soft cheeks and lips.
"Why?" He frowned, pecking your fingertips.
"You're the reason I'm turning down their marriage proposals. Like you said...s'gonna get ugly." You added, and grinned against Sammy's mouth as he shook his head and leaned back in to claim your mouth.
Wowee wow wow you guys! I am so proud and happy to have gathered such a wonderful group of humans on my little square of the internet!
Thank you all so much for constantly supporting and encouraging my silly little writings and mindings! I honestly wouldn't be as inspired or motivated to write if it wasn't for all your wonderful words of encouragement and positivity!
(As a side note, we are coming up to almost a year of posting fanfiction/fanart on this page! And I have something special planned for it when the time comes!)
Love love love you all! Keep creating and reading my little loves!
Jack Abbott x Reader: You and Jack have been dating for a few months, and when Jack comes home after a particularly gruelling shift, his leg/prosthetic is giving him bother. So, at your request; Jack talks you through the steps of how to take off his prosthetic.
Mentions: briefly touching on PTSD, mentions of widow Jack, flirting, fluff, nudity, sexually suggestive themes, sarcastic vibes, medical inaccuracy (I watched and read up multiple different ways/means of prosthetic removal so apologies if there’s gaps/inaccuracies – but also feel free to correct me by any means!).
Jack had mentioned time and time again that you didn't need to bother cooking for him. Yet despite Jack's protests, you carefully plated up his food which you had cooked earlier and wrapped tinfoil over the top of it to keep it good for when he arrived back home.
You knew he was going to be exhausted when he got off work, he always was after a Saturday into Sunday shift. This week had been a bit all over the place for him as he had a mixture of nightshift and day shift hours to contend with. Today was day shift, meaning he was coming back home at around seven at night.
It was always gruelling work weeks like this, that you took particularly extra care to tend to him, and make him wind down from the burden of work.
Making sure he actually sat down and ate something, that he allowed himself the grace to shower and relax his aching joints and wash away the day's toil, and even enforcing a bed time when he insisted on reading one more med journal or toying with the idea of getting amorous (which you found particularly difficult at times to turn down).
Despite only dating for eight months, you and Jack were in a routine now, and it felt as if you had lived together for years. So much so that Jack gave you a key to his home, and encouraged you to stay when he wasn't there, more so for the benefit of being able to come home to you after a shift. Jack couldn't imagine his life without you now, having thought he would be fine to go the rest of his days solo and without a relationship. How wrong he was when you arrived in his life.
Now, life was so much better, more complete and dare he say, easier.
You heard Jack as he got through the front door, shuffling into the hallway and kicking the door shut, the muffled thud of him notoriously dumping his bag beside the shoe rack to be collected later on.
Neither of you said anything, instead, you both simply gravitated towards each other, meeting halfway between the kitchen and the living room to embrace.
"I stink of hospital." Jack mumbled into your hair as he kissed you.
"And hello to you too handsome." You chuckled into him, smoothing your hands up and down his sturdy back. "Made you dinner." You said, turning your head to peck Jack's cheek.
"You gotta stop doing that, I feel bad whenever it's my turn to cook for you." Jack grumbled as he looked over at the kitchen, his guilt intensifying when he saw how clean it looked and the dishes (including his scrambled egg stuck pan from his rushed breakfast that morning) now sitting scrubbed clean in the drying rack.
"You can cook." You challenged, trying to uplift him.
"I cook steak, rice, potatoes and eggs." Jack said. "That's hardly a romantic meal. It's what you give a dog on it's birthday."
"Or an attending physician on a twelve hour shift." You sarcastically mused, Jack simply nodded.
"Thank you for cooking baby." Jack relinquished and kissed you whilst wrapping his arms around you.
That was when you noticed it, the wince that shot across his features as he shifted his weight onto his prosthetic.
“Your leg again?” You gently probed as your hand continued to lightly scratch and comb through the back of Jack’s greying curls.
“Lil bit.” He winced as he shifted his weight again. “Just gets a little sore, chaffs after long periods of time, sweat…wear and tear.” He shrugged and shook his head before letting go of you to rub his face away of the residual exhaustion. "Should take it off." Jack muttered to himself.
Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.
“Can…I help with it?” You asked, nodding down to Jack’s leg as he peered out from his hands to look at you.
“My leg?” He asked.
“Yeah…unless…” Suddenly you felt slightly awash with fear that you had overstepped, maybe come off as patronising. “Sorry, that’s…I…I didn’t mean to sound like you couldn’t do it…you can- I mean I know you can…shit, I just-“
“You can help me.” Jack quickly quelled your panicked excuses, an amused grin tugging at his mouth as he watched you worry a little over potentially offending him. “I can talk you through it. Step by step.” He reassured you.
“Okay.” You answered, relieved that you hadn’t upset Jack, feeling his strong hands grasping for yours.
“But, not in here, in the bathroom, I wanna shower as soon as it comes off.” Jack said as he took your hand. “Trust me. You’ll thank me.”
You’ll thank me?
This confused you a little, yet you accepted and followed Jack into the en suite adjacent to his bedroom, where he lowered the toilet seat and shifted to sit down upon it, looking up at you. Taking the initiative, you slowly got down onto the tiled floor and knelt with Jack’s leg facing you.
“Fair warning…might stink.” Jack said honestly.
“Stink?” You frowned, glancing from Jack's wry smirk and to his scrubs.
“Well…reason I said I wanted to shower as soon as it comes off is; after a twelve hour stint, sweat can pool a little in the bottom of the silicone sleeve and…well…”Jack hesitated for a moment. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t-“
“I do” You quickly said. “I want to…I want to. Just…talk me through it please baby, so I don’t screw up and accidentally hurt you.”
“You won’t screw up.” Jack shook his head a little. "And you can't hurt me, I promise."
“I’ve never done anything like this, just don’t want to hurt you.” You reiterated. “This is the first time I’ve ever done this.”
“I’m your first? Don’t worry, I'll go gentle.” Jack coyly smirked at you and winked, earning him an playful tap on his good leg from you.
“Alright, alright, lemme just-“ Jack leaned forward and began to roll up the trouser leg to his scrubs, up and over his knee, exposing his prosthetic and where it hugged his stump good n snug.
Jack couldn’t deny the thoughts already running through his mind as he saw you looking at him, your eyes glinting in the bathroom lighting, awaiting his instructions. Familiar positions that you had been in, although under far more risqué circumstance. Jack quickly curbed his urges with a stern internal talking to.
Easy Jack, you can do all that later
Don’t scare her off
She wants to do this
Don’t be an ass
This is a big move in the relationship, for her especially
“What you wanna do first, is roll down the silicone sleeve a little.” Jack began, tapping on the stretchy and thick fabric of his sleeve hem that hugged just beneath his knee joint. “That releases the initial vacuum which keeps the whole thing kinda suctioned onto my stump.”
You dutifully nodded and reached up to delicately curl your fingers under the silicone sleeve, rolling it down several inches. Jack tilted his head, unable to hide the adoring smirk that quickly spread across his features.
"More?" You asked tentatively, minding your nails as to not dig into Jack's skin as you curled the sleeve down.
"Little more, you'll hear a sound." Jack said as he reached for you to move some stray hairs behind your ear. "You're doing amazing, don't be shy."
You couldn't help yourself from smiling at Jack's warm praise. There was a sudden give to the prosthetic, and a dull ‘suck’ and pop which followed. Your eyes quickly flicked up to Jack for confirmation.
“S’good, now the limb can come away.” He said, nodding down to his prosthetic.
With both hands, you began to carefully slip Jack’s artificial limb off and away from his stump, releasing his aching anatomy from its confines. True to Jack’s words, there was a slightly unpleasant, sweaty smell, like worn in gym socks, coming from the layers of stocking covers.
“Told you it was gonna get stinky.” Jack said bitterly. “Won’t be offended if you turn tail and run now.” He offered with raised brows.
“M'good. It's not unbearable.” You said. “Besides, I have to learn at some point how to do this for you.” You shrugged and reasoned whilst you began to unlace Jack’s shoe on the prosthetic so you could place them in the rack by the door for his next shift.
You might not have realised it, but your words hit Jack like a freight train.
‘I have to learn at some point’ was a veiled means of saying you were committed, to Jack and his disability, to trying, to knitting his routine into yours. That even if he protested out of reluctance, you were willing to help him…because you loved him. You saw more than just a man with physical scars, you accepted Jack in all his glory, wounds included.
Before you, Jack had briefly tried dating, and as soon as the words 'widow', 'veteran', 'ungodly work hours', 'amputee' cropped up, some people politely (others not so politely) turned and retreated. But you? You took it all, and loved Jack in his entirety. Your heart was big, and you allowed so much room within it for Jack. It was why your relationship flowed so easily for being only eight months old, as if you two had known each other in a previous life. You didn't want to replace Jack's wife or her memory, you wanted to be there for him to remind him that life continues, love exists, and all of it was there for Jack to embrace once the grief lessened.
“C’mon handsome, sooner we get you out of these, the sooner we can shower.” You said as you carefully set Jack’s prosthetic leg down against the cabinet beside the sink and looked over his stocking clad stump.
Jack admired you for several moments before nodding.
“Alright, now the fun part…sleeves and stockings come off.” Jack said. “There’s a few of em, but they come off easy like a pair socks kinda.” Jack shrugged, and folded his arms to keep his hands out of the way for you.
You smiled to yourself as you were reminded of a time where you were shopping with Jack to get clothes for him when he stayed over at your place; boxers, t -shirts, sweat pants, and indeed - socks. Of which, Jack made several dark jokes about not needing to buy or burn through as many pairs, for obvious reasons.
Whilst you smiled to yourself at the memory, Jack on the other hand couldn’t help the swelling sensation in his chest as he continued to observe you, carefully rolling each layer of stocking sleeve off his stump and bundling them into the laundry hamper adjacent to the bath tub.
You didn’t flinch, or wrinkle your nose in disgust, you just looked carefully at what you were doing. It occurred to Jack that -other than his physio- no one had ever really touched his leg this way nor taken care of it, not since his late wife.
“Looks sore babe.” You sadly hummed as you looked over the slightly red and inflamed skin on the underside of Jack’s leg, right along the seam of his thickest scar.
“Like I said; long shift, lots of moving around, sweat and chaffing.” Jack listed off the ailments. “Nothing a shower and some salve can’t fix.” He said.
Without thinking, you reached up and softly smoothed your hand over Jack’s kneecap, your thumb rubbing back and forth across his skin. Jack melted instantly, and was no longer able to keep away from you. He leaned forward and kissed the top of your head, inhaling your familiar scented shampoo as his nose pressed into your messy hair.
"How'd I do doc?" You playfully asked.
“Good job, didn’t even throw up on the sweaty smell.” Jack teased.
“You’ve come home smelling worse.” You teased back, smirking up at Jack. “So, next step?”
“Shower with me?” Jack tried, and smirked as you slowly stood up between his legs, towering above him.
“I think I can do that relatively unsupervised.” You nodded and turned to start the shower, filling the room with steam.
Jack began to haul off his shirt, yet suddenly felt your fingers join his as you helped pull the shirt off and throw it into the laundry basket. He sat back, and watched you take off all your clothes, drinking in your beautiful naked body.
“Hands.” You uttered, breaking Jack's focus on your curves, your voice slightly dulled by the sharp hissing sound of the shower water hitting into the tiles.
“I don’t need help undressing.” Jack smirked.
“Who said this part was for you?” You said, and grinned wolfishly at Jack as he tilted his head to the side, the corners his eyes wrinkling as he grinned back at you.
Doing his best to not get carried away by your blatant nudity, Jack pushed on his good leg and took your hands in his. He stood up, and planted one hand onto the sink countertop to keep himself balanced as his other reached down to his waistband, stopping as you batted it away a little.
“no no no” You shook your head. “I get to do all the heavy lifting for this.” You said as you stepped closer to Jack, your noses brushing against one another as you smiled at him.
“No complaints here.” Jack muttered as he chanced a brief kiss from you.
The briefness turned into a slow, lingering kiss, as all the while your hands undid Jack’s scrubs and pushed them down to the floor, along with his underwear. Reluctantly you separated in order to get Jack into the shower without falling entirely into your urges before-hand. Jack got in first with a helping hand on your part, manoeuvring himself onto his bench inside the shower with ease, with you following him inside.
“Can I help with that?” You asked as Jack quickly got to work cleaning the layer of sweat off his stump.
“No baby, you’ve done more than enough and you did it all beautifully.” Jack shook his head a little as he carefully soaped up and washed his sore skin.
“So the purpose of me being in the shower with you is?” You teased as you dipped your head under the running water to wet your hair.
“To be beautiful and naked with me.” Jack grinned as he looked up at you from his cleansing.
“Hope your physio doesn’t do this.” You chuckled and stroked your hands through Jack’s hair, slicking back his curls.
“My physio is a sixty-three-year-old guy called Mike, don’t think he’s my type.” Jack reasoned, listening to your soft laughter echoing against the shower walls.
Jack looked up at you, he reached his soap-lathered hands to smooth up and across your thighs and hips whilst you stood in front of him. You let out a deep sigh as his hands slid with ease right up until he begged with his fingers ghosting at the underside of your jaw to bend and meet him halfway down.
You did as silently instructed; bending over and cupping Jack’s face to kiss him. His soft lips contrasted against his grey stubble as your mouths slid across one another with ease. The warm water, paired with Jack’s loving kisses made your head swim a little.
“Ease up.” You warned as your lips fluttered across Jack’s. “You’ll make me faint.” You mused as Jack peppered kisses against the corner of your lips and chin.
“S’fine, I have a little experience in first aid.” Jack snarkily commented, his warm breath huffing across your wet neck as he kissed at you.
“M’seriously Romeo – you better save it for the bedroom, otherwise we’re going to need to call Mike.” You joked, laughing a little as Jack snorted midway through kissing you.
"True enough." Jack agreed, and behaved.
Eventually you both managed to; shower, offload how your days had gone, get out and dry off with relative ease, all while narrowly avoiding a salacious detour here and there along the way to the bedroom.
As Jack sat with his towel draped around his waist on his side of the bed, you went over to the drawers. In the top set, Jack kept his underwear, socks, clean stockings and sleeves and a few ratty gym clothes. To the side, you had a small collection of similar clothing pieces, brought over on your part (and Jacks insistence) for nights stayed at Jack's.
"No clothes." Jack piped up, hauling your attention to him as you looked over your shoulder to see him having already discarded the towel to the bed side, and was now shuffling into the covers, naked as the day he was born.
"Naked it is." You nodded with a smile and closed over the drawers before circling the bed to your side.
You slid in under the covers, immediately feeling Jack's hands reaching for you to scooch up and curl into him. As soon as your bodies were flush together, you melted into one another, warm and clean; smelling of shampoo and body wash, toothpaste and laundry detergent from having washed the sheets earlier in the day.
"Thank you." You suddenly muttered lazily into Jack's side as you snuggled into him, both of you a tangled mess of limbs.
"What for?" He yawned, husky and sleepy.
"For trusting me to help with your leg." You clarified, turning to kiss his skin. "Means a lot letting me do that, be a part of the process y'know." you sighed and rested into Jack's arm as you used his bicep as a pillow essentially, your eyes heavy with sleep.
"Means a lot to me." Jack matched, and stroked his fingers up and down between your shoulder blades as you turned further into him, hooking your leg across his hip to bring your body closer to his.
"I love you." You said, you always said it; before falling asleep, before seeing Jack off to a shift, or simply for the sake of it. But tonight, it had a deeper sense to it.
"I love you too." Jack said, his narrow, hazel eyes roaming over your gentle features, slightly waning from exhaustion, before nuzzling closer to kiss you.
You both shared one another's embrace, kissing until eventually sleep took over, and you both rested happily, and safely in one another's arms.
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FLUFFY Dad!Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader : Baby’s getting his first shots at the doctor’s office, and you and Pope are handling it in different ways
(Or: Pope gets protective over his baby on shot day (and also you))
Mentions: vaccines/needles, anxious parents, inaccurate medical chat (surprisingly Im not a doctor lol), guilt, fluff, angst with feelings, fluffy, married couple, protective Pope,
“You’re so calm about it.” Pope said as you took a filled bottle of formula from him and packed it into the baby bag.
“You make it sound like I don’t care” you playfully mused, pretending to act wounded by Pope’s comment.
“I didn’t say that” Pope said.
“Im teasing you. Im just focusing on the good this will do for him, and how it’s going to help him fight off infections and sickness bugs.” You shrugged, trying to convince yourself and quell the motherly guilt growing in the pit of your stomach.
You knew this day was coming, and whilst you were eager for your son to get his shots and be safer against the germs and nasties, you couldn’t avoid the anxiety of having to sit back and allow the baby to be in pain (if for a brief moment).
“Still…he’s gonna be in pain.” Pope said as he looked over at the baby, happily talking and garbling to himself as he watched some magical colorful animals dancing around on the tv.
“Don’t remind me.” You sighed. “Look, we both knew today was coming, we just gotta get it over and done with.” You said as you zipped up the bag and rubbed Pope’s shoulder, leaning up to peck his cheek.
You got into the truck and began driving out towards the doctor’s office. You occasionally glanced back at the baby who was none the wiser, which only made things feel all the more cruel.
When you turned back to look at the road, you looked at Pope, stiff and upright, an embodiment of stress.
“Baby, relax, he’ll be fine.” You said, placing your hand on Pope’s knee as he drove.
“I know.” He muttered, tightly between his lips, his knuckles turning white as he worries the steering wheel under his stressed out grasp.
They’re gonna hurt him
I know they have to
But still…
Pope pulled in to the doctor’s office and parked up front, turning to look at you through his dark shades. Despite his eyes being hidden, you knew immediately Pope was growing more concerned.
“You can stay in the truck if you want? You don’t have to come in and see.” You offered gently.
“I’ll go. M’not leaving you two alone in there.” Pope grunted and got out his side and towards the baby’s door. Pope then thought to himself;
I know what you’re doing
You’re trying to protect me from this, and take the burden
You’re trying to shield me from the bad stuff, the necessary evils so I can only experience the good
But Im a Dad, and a Husband, not a coward
Pope opened up the back door, and began to unfasten the baby’s carrier, his son looking up at him curiously whilst he sucked on his fist. Pope felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he looked into the carrier.
“M’sorry buddy, it’ll be over quick.” He mumbled as you closed up the truck and met with him on the other side.
“C’mon you two.” You sighed, feeling your own guilt twist inside you as you also looked at the baby, completely oblivious as to what was about to happen.
——
“And how are we doing today?” Your doctor, an older woman with twists of graying hair, smiled between yourself and the boys.
“Nervous.” You answered honestly for both yourself and Pope.
“That’s normal, no parent would feel good about their little one being upset or in pain.” The doctor nodded, maintaining her smile.
“It’ll take a few seconds, though I must warn that tears are certain, but it’s all for the greater good.” She said as she turned away to retrieve some nitrile gloves from a container beside the bed.
You suddenly looked at Pope, and he felt your wave of fear crashing into him.
“S’okay, it’ll be done in seconds she said.” Pope whispered to you and then looked at the baby.
Pope reached a finger down to softly tease the baby’s chin, earning him a curious grumble as he reached out to snatch at his Daddy’s fingers.
Just a few seconds, and then everything will be fine
It will be quick, and he’ll be safe from germs and infections
Just a few seconds
“Alright, wanna set junior up onto the table?” The doctor said as she patted the paper sheet spread out across the table.
“Can…can I hold him whilst you do it?” Pope suddenly asked.
You looked at him and melted a little, part of you felt less silly for worrying knowing that Pope, the strong and silent of the two of you, was also feeling his nerves.
“Of course, most parents do anyways.” The doctor nodded and gestured for Pope to approach.
You felt safe in the knowledge that your baby was cradled and sat in Pope’s lap and strong arms. If it were you, you were certain your nerves would best you and you’d run out the office with the little one.
“Alright little fella, we’re gonna count to three, and then give you a little shot right in the side here.” The doctor said in a silly voice as she prepped her needle, earning her a gummy smile from the baby.
You could feel yourself beginning to panic, your heart bear quickening as your muscles tightened up in order to brace for the next few moments.
Oh god he doesn’t even know whats gonna happen next.
His first real experience with pain
Pope instinctively hugged the baby a little tighter, watching the doctor carefully as she administered the shot to the little one’s soft thigh. Both yourself and Pope anticipated a sharp cry, but when the needle came out, there was nothing.
Silence…
Then the crying came
“Oh I know, I know, Im sorry sweetie” The doctor apologized knowingly. “I hate this just as much as you.”
Pope hushed and soothed his son in his lap as the doctor wiped off the area and put a small circular bandaid on the tiny red dot of blood left on the baby’s soft skin.
“We’ll do his other leg and then he’s free.” The doctor informed as she moved to the opposite side.
Pope couldn’t help the guilt clawing him from the inside out. Both of you knew this was a planned and part of the process, but having to allow the baby to be in pain and cry made you feel awful.
“Last one sweetie” the doctor apologized again and injected the needle to the opposite thigh.
A fresh wave of tears and cries came from Pope’s lap as the baby whined and curled up, his face scrunched with utter displeasure at the ordeal.
“S’okay buddy, s’okay, we’re done now, yeah?” Pope said hopefully as he looked up at the doctor.
“All done, no more pain.” She said to him as she turned from Pope to you. “Oh sweetie, here take a tissue!” She said.
Pope looked up and saw you cupping your mouth and nose, tears welling up and spilling over.
“M’sorry, I’m fine Im being stupid-“
“You’re not, honestly! It’s natural and almost everyone, newborn Mom’s especially, get tearful on vaccine day” The doctor gently soothed as she handed you a few tissues and softly rubbed your shoulder.
Pope stood up, wanting to be close to you and hesitating a little as he wasn’t sure he was allowed to move off the bench. The doctor stepped out of the way to dispose of her gloves and Pope took two big strides over to you. Immediately you reached out and took the baby from Pope, hugging and kissing his sad little tears away.
“Sorry, Im just…I-“
“Hey it’s okay” Pope said, cupping your cheek to kiss your forehead. “It’s okay, all done now.”
“Yeah, yeah all done” You nodded “Thank you for ugh for this.” You said, wiping your eyes as you spoke to the doctor.
“Im sorry I had to do it.” The doctor smiled softly. “It’s not an easy thing, but it will help him out in the long run. Why don’t I send over the paperwork to reception and let you folks escape?” She said.
“Thanks” Pope nodded and began to usher you and the baby out the room.
———
Pope noticed on the ride back home that you kept looking in the back seat, as if worried the baby would disappear into a fine puff of air.
“Hey, c’mon he’ll be alright.” Pope urged as he looked over at you when you turned around for the billionth time.
“I feel awful. I didn’t think I would but…god” You sighed and felt your eyes sting a little with the prospect of more tears.
“He’s fine, he won’t remember any of it.” Pope said, reaching over to cup the back of your neck and brush his fingers into your scalp.
“No, but we will.” You pouted and looked out the window, deflated and wanting to cuddle the baby.
———
As soon as Pope parked in the drive, you practically leapt out to retrieve the baby from the back. Pope followed you into the house with the bags and went into the kitchen whilst you went into the nursery to change the baby.
Pope busied himself setting the empty bottles into the sterilizer, making up fresh ones to store away and also keeping one out to give to him post nappy change. The doctor had said he would feel a little under the weather, potentially sleepy due to the vaccine, but otherwise he would be himself within hours.
Taking the bottle of formula, Pope left the kitchen and went into the nursery, only to find it empty. Frowning and looking around, Pope then heard your voice a room over.
He turned around and went into his and your room, immediately spying you curled up on the bed, your back towards Pope.
He could hear the little mewing sounds of the baby, his tiny hands reaching up to try and grab onto your toying fingers as you smiled and sniffed. You had been crying again.
“M’so sorry sweetheart, I promise it’s all for the best” You sighed.
“Hey…came to crash the party” Pope whispered as he stood at the foot of the bed.
“Come crash” you said, reaching over to pat Pope’s side of the bed. “Think we’re about to nap” you said, hinting at your son’s tired little hazel eyes, blinking slowly.
Pope slid off his shoes and placed them neatly at the corner post of the bed before carefully crawling on. He mirrored your curled up position on the opposite side of the baby, bracketing the infant in with your bodies on either side of him.
“You’re still upset” Pope remarked, looking at your smiling yet sad face.
“I still feel awful” you shrugged. “He won’t trust me.” You lamented as you softly ghosted your fingers over the baby’s little circular bandaids.
“That’s stupid” Pope flatly responded. “He loves you.”
You didn’t reply, you just flippantly nodded. As if to prove his point, the baby managed to grab your forgotten hand as it hovered just within reach, and proceeded to stuff your thumb knuckle between his gums, rubbing and mumbling in content.
“See, happy.” Pope smirked, proud of his son for proving him right.
You simply shook your head and snuggled closer to the baby as he lay on his back, propped up on your pillow, between yourself and Pope. Whilst you kissed and fawned over him, Pope felt that familiar warmth spreading within his chest every time he saw you care for your baby.
Look at you, loving our little baby
Our little you and me
That little guy loves you just as much as I do
You’re such a gift…I don’t deserve this, and yet…
Pope briefly sat up - careful as not to rouse the baby with his movements- to grab the little knitted blanket that lay across the foot of the bed, and hauled it up and across all three of you.
“Doctor said he’d be sleepy, s’lets roll with it.” Pope shrugged as you eyed him was a wry smirk.
Pope kept watch as your fussing began to slow and wane as the baby’s eyes lulled shut. You promptly fell asleep after him, and Pope - satisfied that all was well again - closed his eyes, reached across, and linked his fingers into yours as it lay across your baby’s little stomach.
