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docrobinavitch · 1 day ago

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did i do it to myself?

dr. abbot x f!librarian!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually suggestive content, swearing, alcohol, age gap, exes to lovers, angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort words: 6.3K synopsis: after three months together, you were sure you were in love with jack abbot. but then, he breaks up with you with little to no explanation and you're left reeling. after several failed relationships where you were constantly made to believe your feelings and wants were too much, you assume this is why jack has left you. in a bid to get him back, or hurt him, or both, you show up at a bar you know him to frequent and test his patience. a/n: this is for all my sensitive girlies, you are never too much!! i wrote this in a fugue state bc i missed jack let me know if u like as always my inbox is open to yap <3 syd

JANUARY

You knew he would be at the bar that night. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but you knew his schedule and you knew he was off today. And sometimes when he was off, he went to the speakeasy at night.

The same speakeasy the two of you had your first date at.

Okay, so, maybe you hadn’t known if he would come tonight. Maybe you had just been coming to the speakeasy most Thursday nights since he had broken up with you. It wasn’t that you wanted him back, you just wanted to make him suffer. The way he had made you suffer.

At least, that’s what you had convinced yourself. Because the alternative was too humiliating. You had always had a habit of falling too hard and too fast. You were too sensitive, cared too much, got attached too quickly. You were planning future vacations and creating Pinterest boards for the apartment you would eventually move into just a month or two in. And when it was all over, it was always you who was falling apart while you watched from afar as the other person always seemingly escaped unscathed.

Your friends wouldn’t say so, but you knew they found it all a bit pathetic. With Jack, especially, they hadn’t understood the draw. They had teased about his age, referred to him as grandpa in your conversations, pointed out his weird schedule, how you rarely saw him because of it. They thought you probably didn't even know him very well, that whatever infatuation you had was just a carefully curated delusion.

But they didn’t see what he was like when you were alone together. How could they know about the times when he made you dinner in his kitchen when you were too busy to even think about what to eat? How he had twirled you around in your socks on the linoleum floor while Dancing in the Moonlight spun on his record player.

They didn’t see all the times he quietly ran his fingers through your hair the way you liked when you were sad. He never made you feel like your feelings were too heavy or a flaw, which was foreign to you. It was why you had been left reeling when he ended it.

“I don’t understand.” You were shaking your head, sure you had misheard him. Sitting across from him outside your favorite coffee shop, holding the shaken espresso he had insisted on buying for you, that you now understood to be some kind of fucked up consolation prize.

“I just…” He tore his gaze away from yours, as if it would lessen the blow if you couldn't see his hazel eyes glint green in the sunlight when he said it, “I don’t think it’s working.”

You had never gotten more of an explanation than that, too in shock to ask anything in that moment. You weren’t sure, but you thought you must’ve asked him to leave because the next time you looked at the seat where he had been it was empty and your iced coffee completely melted.

You were aware, as you always were, that to everyone else who didn’t attach themselves like cling wrap to their significant other, three months wasn’t a whole lot of time to date someone. Especially when you were adults on opposite work schedules. You hadn’t even said the L word yet, but that was just because you knew from experience that it was better for everyone if you waited until the six month mark to do that. You were very much in love with Jack Abbot, but you thought you'd scare him off if you were the first to say it. All the rules you had to set for yourself to make yourself more like a cool girl and less like Velcro in your relationships.

With Jack, you had followed the rules. You had made sure not to call too often, not to cry in front of him, not to seem too eager to spend more than just a night together, leave in the morning after coffee, don't leave your toothbrush behind in his bathroom, and on and on the list went. You liked him so much, you were extra careful. And you thought it had been working.

Until it wasn't.

And now it had been a little over a month since he had broken up with you and you were at the bar. This definitely broke the rules, but what did it matter if he thought you were a crazy ex girlfriend? You were still just an ex.

And when he walked into the bar that night, you pretended not to notice. You ignored the thrum of your pulse in your ears when you heard his rough voice give the bartender his usual order. Whiskey, neat, with a twist. You kept your attention on the bouncer that had been talking with you the last twenty minutes, hoping Jack saw him and felt green waves of envy. It was needless, though. The bouncer was loyal and married with kids. Had been showing you pictures of his wife and kids just five minutes earlier. But that was just fine, as long as it looked like something else altogether to Jack.

You knew you looked hot tonight, you had dressed this way intentionally. Knee high black boots, red crushed velvet maxi skirt with a long slit that stopped mid thigh, and a black mesh top with intricate floral patterns down the sleeves. The New Year had just passed so it was probably too cold for the outfit, but you also knew how crazy it drove Jack when you showed a little skin.

He had taken a seat at the bar top, but you were at a table in his line of sight, as was the bare skin of your thigh. And you felt it, when he noticed you. The heat of his gaze was unmistakable. His eyes were so intently focused on the slit in your skirt it felt like his hands were already on you.

The bouncer left you after a couple of minutes, called back to the door, and you heard it when Jack immediately stood and began to walk towards you.

He sat at the chair across from you, setting his glass on the table, "What're you doing here, kid?"

You allowed your eyes to trail up to his. It hurt as spectacularly as you thought it would, seeing him up close like this again. A knife twisted in your side at the tired look in his eyes, the gray stubble across his jaw that you longed to run soothing fingers across.

Reaching towards his drink, you pulled the spiraled orange peel from it and placed it between your teeth, chewing it lightly.

"That seat's reserved for people who actually intend to fuck me." You said, jaw clenched.

He laughed softly, "Well I guess I'm in the right seat, then."

You grimaced, "That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking."

You narrowed your eyes at him before leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest, abandoning the orange peel on the table in front of you, "Okay, well it's reserved for people I intend to fuck, then. So, if you could find another seat…"

"You think I don't know you came here to see me? The same place we had our first kiss? Dressed like that and flirting with strangers in front of me?"

Your lips twisted upward in satisfaction when he couldn't help the hungry look in his eyes when they landed on the bare skin of your thigh, running a hand across his jaw in agitation.

You rolled your eyes, "Is your name on the deed to the bar or something?"

His eyes darted back to yours and the corner of his lips tugged up into a smile, "I don't remember you being so prickly. You used to be sweet."

"Yeah, well, breaking up with someone out of the blue and for no reason will do that to a person. I'm not a doormat."

He sighed and shook his head, "Come on, really?"

"What?" You asked sharply, "Did I mischaracterize it? Because that's how I remember it."

He leaned on his forearms so he was closer to you, his probing eyes locking on yours, "You wanted to end it, too. I was just the one to pull the plug."

For a second you thought maybe you were hallucinating. You actually physically recoiled from him in surprise, waited for him to repeat himself. But he didn't.

An incredulous laugh tore out of your throat, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He shook his head, "You weren't in it at all the last few weeks."

"Jack," You said breathlessly, "That could not be further from reality and I think it's fucked up that you would try to blame me for the fact that you ended something special for no good reason."

"I'm not blaming—"

"I mean I would've done anything you asked, I was fucking in love with you, so for you to say that I wasn't in it whatever that even means to you, is frankly deranged."

He seemed taken aback and it took you a few moments to even catch up with what you had said in your annoyance, but once you had, your chest tightened with panic.

"What did you just say?" He asked slowly.

You felt short of breath and you stood in such a hurry, you rattled the table and almost knocked Jack's drink over, "You're right, I shouldn't be here."

"No, hang on—" Jack secured a firm hand around your wrist, "Sit back down."

You tugged lightly, "I have to go."

"Hey," Eric, the bouncer, made his way over to the two of you, chest puffed out. But Jack made no move to release you. "This asshole giving you trouble, baby?"

You smiled sweetly at him, "I'm okay, Eric."

Jack laughed humorlessly, "'Baby', huh?"

"Don't do something stupid, man." Eric said, stepping closer to Jack.

You had never known Jack to be aggressive in any way, so when he stood up and gently pushed you behind him, you were floored.

"Why don't you back off my girl, hm?" Jack said, deathly quiet.

My girl? You had a passing thought that maybe you had fallen and hit your head at some point earlier in the day. Surely that was the only logical explanation for whatever this fever dream in front of you was.

"She never mentioned a boyfriend, only an ex." Eric and Jack were now eye to eye, nearly chest to chest as they sized each other up.

"Um, boys?" You moved around Jack so you were standing to the side of them both, "I'm fine, okay? Eric? Eric." Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Jack and looked down at you. You nodded reassuringly, "I'm good. Promise."

He took another long look at Jack before backing away, "You'll shout if you need me?" You nodded, and then he went back to the door.

"The two of you sleeping together?" He was more on edge than you had ever seen him. Knee bouncing as he sat back down. Jack was always the picture of calm and collected, especially in a crisis. So to see him so worked up now, really over nothing, was foreign to you. "He was acting awful… Familiar."

You sighed, "No. I know him from the library. He comes in for our Adult Literacy Program."

His knee stilled when your words registered and he looked over at you before sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head, "M'such an idiot." He murmured.

You chewed on your cheek and turned to look towards the door, "I'm gonna go home, Jack."

His head shot back up, "Wait, can we just talk for a minute, please."

This was what you wanted, you thought. For him to be asking for you, desire seemingly reignited. But not like this. You wanted to have the upper hand this time and you had revealed your hand too quickly. He was in control again.

"I'm sorry." You said softly and excused yourself from the table.

SEPTEMBER

It was a beautiful fall day, perfect for the outdoor flu shot clinic you were running out of the library. You were running around with your clipboard in your hand, pen occasionally between your teeth as you checked in with all the professionals who had volunteered to administer the vaccine, pharmacy techs and nurses from the community.

But while you were doing so, you spotted a man you didn't recognize. Head full of thick, graying curls and an easy smile as he spoke to one of the nurses you had checked in with a few minutes ago. You frowned and looked down at your clipboard. The only volunteer you were missing was a Mrs. Dana Evans, RN.

"Excuse me, sir?" You politely tapped him on the shoulder, "The clinic's not open yet, you can wait inside until we're ready—"

"Oh, I'm not here for the shot, already vaccinated."

You nodded slowly, "Um, okay, well this is a private event so if you could—"

"Sorry," He chuckled quietly, "I'm Jack Abbot, I work at PTMC. One of our nurses, Dana Evans, said she was supposed to volunteer here, but something came up. She asked if I could cover for her." He pulled out his hospital ID, the word DOCTOR written under his name and photo.

You looked up at him quizzically, "We don't get a lot of doctors volunteering here."

He cocked his head to the side, "Why, because they think it's below them?"

"No, I think it's because most of them haven't administered a vaccine in so long that they have no idea how to do it anymore."

He huffed a laugh, "Well, you don't have to worry about that, I know how to use a needle."

He winked at you and, well, he was very handsome. It made your knees weak. You cleared your throat and broke eye contact, "Okay, well, thank you for being here, Dr. Abbot. Just don't maim anyone, please."

"Just, Jack, if you don't mind." He reached out a hand to shake yours, "I don't think I got your name."

Almost against your will, your brain registered his toned arms and prominent veins that snaked down from his biceps to his hands. And the freckles, God, the freckles that dotted his skin were gorgeous. You swallowed hard as you took his hand and gave your name.

"You organize this by yourself?" He asked, dropping your hand.

You nodded, "Yeah, every year. We usually get a decent turn out."

"That's really good. You're saving lives, you know?"

You bit your lip, and shrugged, "I suppose. The community's really important to me, it's part of why I became a librarian. Libraries were always there for me when no one else was." You realized you had overshared too late when you noticed the gentle smile on his face, "Sorry, um, I just really love the library."

"Don't be sorry," He shook his head, "It's sweet. You're sweet."

You laughed nervously and hung your head, hoping you weren't as transparent as you felt. Sweet. Just one word and it felt like he had reached inside your chest and pulled your heart out with his bare hand.

"Well, I should get back to it. I'll, uh, see you around?"

His grin widened and he nodded, "Counting on it."

You spun away and— Walked directly into the table behind you, nearly losing your balance as your thighs slammed into the hard surface. Oh, awesome.

You didn't turn back to see if he had seen (of course he had, there was no way he could miss it), but you did hear an unmistakable chuckle as you scurried away.

Humiliated, you avoided him the rest of the event. If the snacks or water needed to be refilled by his station, you had one of your other librarians do it.

Hours later, when the clinic had ended, you were beginning to put away all the folding chairs when a voice came up behind you, "Thought you said you'd see me around?"

You jumped, turning to face him and he laughed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just couldn't help but notice you handed out everyone else's snacks and waters yourself, except the ones near me."

Catching your breath from the near heart attack he'd given you, you shook your head, "That… wasn't intentional."

"Oh, no? Was it also unintentional when you went by and thanked every volunteer for their help except for me?"

No, it had all definitely been intentional. You hung your head, "I didn't think you'd notice."

He blew out a long breath between his lips, "Man, I must be more rusty than I thought."

You frowned, "What?"

"I've been trying to flirt with you all day, but I must have done an awful job if you were avoiding me."

You bit your lip, tried to figure out if he was fucking with you somehow. It wasn't that you hadn't been flirted with before, you had. But Jack Abbot struck you as the kind of man who just flirted with everyone all the time at baseline, never meaning anything by it. So it had mortified you when you had gotten so flustered.

Deciding he was probably being genuine, you smiled, "I wasn't—I mean, I was avoiding you, but only because I thought I was being pretty embarrassing earlier."

He hummed, "Well, I thought you were adorable. You should walk into tables more often." You laughed and his grin widened, "When you've finished up here would you want to grab a drink with me?"

"Yeah," You said immediately before you could think on it too much, "Yeah, I'd like that."

He was waiting outside for you once you clocked out and walked you to his car, "Where are we going?"

"I know a place," He opened his car door and gestured for you to get in.

You smirked and climbed in the car, watched through the window as he smiled back at you and gently closed the door.

JANUARY

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you walked away from the speakeasy. Your breaths steamed out in front of you and you tightened your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep the heat in. It wasn't long before you heard an additional pair of shoes behind you and you rolled your eyes, "Jack, I said I don't want to talk."

"I know," He slowed once he caught up to you, "But could you at least let me drive you home? In complete silence?"

"I don't mind the walk."

He scoffed and shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders, "You're gonna get sick and then you're gonna have to come see me, which seems like the last thing you want."

"There are other doctors in Pittsburgh."

He laughed, "Sweetheart, you ever see a doctor in this city that's not me, I'd consider that infidelity."

You hummed, "Sounds like a you problem. Didn't you promise me silence?"

"Yeah, that was taken off the table when you refused to let me drive you."

You stopped cold on the sidewalk, causing him to nearly walk straight into you, "You can't walk me all the way home without a jacket, you'll freeze."

He raised his eyebrows, "So you agree that it's too cold to walk?"

You really didn't want to get in his car. You'd be warm and enclosed in a place where the smell of him infiltrated your every sense. He'd be close enough for you to touch. To remember all the times you'd made out with him in that car like a couple of teenagers. Including the day you met.

You chewed the inside of you're cheek, "You'll be quiet the whole ride?"

He made an X over his heart with a finger, "Promise."

You leaned your head back to look at the sky, thought about begging God to intervene on your behalf, remembered you didn't believe in God, and sighed, "Fine."

And so Jack walked you back to his car, opened the passenger door just like he had a few months ago, closed the door gently before walking over to the driver's seat.

You crossed your arms over your chest and turned to look out your window. It was bad enough the whole car smelt like him, like his bed, like his clothes. If you looked at him too, you thought you might combust. Or worse, cry.

So you sat like that in silence for a minute or two. Until you felt the warmth and heaviness of his hand on your thigh.

You whipped your head around, "You promised—"

"I said I would be silent," He murmured, "I never said anything about touching you."

You stared stubbornly down at his hand on your leg. His fingers were slowly fingering the edge of the slit in your skirt, teasing.

You scowled in his direction, "This is cheating."

"I didn't know we were playing games." He glanced in your direction, then back to the road, "Besides, I thought we were on the same team." He said softly.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the window, "It was you who broke up with me, Jack." You said quietly. But you made no move to push his hand away.

His fingers slipped past the fabric of the skirt and you were struck dumb by the feeling of his calloused fingers stroking gently against your inner thigh, "Starting to think that might have been a misunderstanding."

You felt your resolve slipping. You started the night hurt and confused, as you had been for several weeks now, lashing out like a wounded animal. He had tamed you so easily, a few gentle words and the stroke of his fingers against bare skin and you were putty in his hands again. It would've made you angry if not for the desperate yearning that grew and expanded in your chest with every moment that passed.

When he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you were practically vibrating in your seat. Jack had grown more brazen, slipping his hand higher and higher between your legs. You had conceded a couple of minutes ago, spreading your legs to provide him more access and had heard his sharp intake of breath when he noticed.

He parked the car, removing his hand from your leg as he did, and then you both turned at the same time to watch the other.

"We should probably talk," Jack said.

You inhaled slowly and shook your head, "You promised me silence."

He tilted his head, gave you a look that suggested he was fighting a losing battle against himself, "C'mon, kid." He said softly, "We shouldn't be doing this if we're not gonna sort this out first."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, "You should've thought about that before you put your hand up my skirt."

He scoffed, but was unable to argue further because you were climbing across the cabin of the car so you could straddle his lap. You had to hike your skirt up all the way to your waist to accommodate the spreading of your legs and Jack slowly inhaled through his mouth at the sudden feel of you on top of him.

"Until we get out of this car," You whispered, forehead leaned against his, "No more talking. Please."

His eyes latched onto yours and his hand cradled the side of your head, anchoring you to him. He nodded against you, helpless to deny both you and himself a taste, just a taste, he told himself.

His first kiss was hesitant, almost like he couldn't believe he was here again, tasting you like it was the first time. He kept his hands on your face, slipped his tongue into your mouth, thought that kissing you again felt like having his favorite dessert again after going years without. He knew this taste, this feeling, but having been denied it so long it felt like the voltage had been ramped up, every sound and sensation feeling brand new because of the intensity.

You had your hands in his hair, pulling at it as you whimpered into his mouth and ground your hips down onto his growing erection. Most of his time with you had been seared into his brain, but he had somehow forgotten how needy and desperate you had always seemed to be. You had always kissed and fucked like you thought it was the last time you would ever do it and it drove him insane every single time. So insane, in fact, he was starting to think he might cum—

There was a tapping on the glass of his window and the cabin of the car lit up with sudden light.

"Oh, fuck," You cursed and scrambled off him, rushing to pull your skirt down to cover yourself.

Oh fuck was right. A security officer for your complex was staring disappointingly into the car, gesturing for Jack to roll down the window. He sighed heavily before he complied and cleared his throat, "Evening, officer."

The officer gave Jack a bored look, "Do either of you live here?"

Mortified, you pulled your hands from your face and looked towards the officer, "Hey, Trey. Slow night?"

Jack fought a smirk at your attempt at a joke, covered it with a cough into his fist.

Trey sighed, "Think you'd mind moving the party inside so I don't have to call the cops?"

"Of course—" Jack started to say, but you cut him off.

"He was just leaving, actually," You said and began to climb out of the car, avoiding Jack's piercing stare, "Sorry, Trey. Won't happen again."

Jack watched through the windshield as you walked off with Trey, not even looking back at him. He debated following after you, ask you why the fuck you would just walk off like that after driving him nearly out of his damn mind.

In the end, he leaned his forehead against his steering wheel, counted to thirty and then backwards to zero, and then drove home.

NOVEMBER

It had been two and a half months since Jack had first met you, since he became absolutely enamored by every thing about you. The way there was constantly a pen somewhere on your person, be it in your hair, behind your ear, or between your teeth. How you smiled easily and everyone fell in love with you the second you opened your mouth. He didn't think you knew it, the power you had over people. But he saw it every time, the quick descent for even the most grumpy of visitors at the library. You'd have them laughing and smiling just a minute into a conversation. Much like how you had charmed him that first day.

Constantly, he found himself thinking, that's my girl. And, recently, with more frequency, I love you.

But he hadn't said it yet because he couldn't get past the gnawing feeling at the back of his mind that something was off. That you weren't in it the way he was. You gave him the sweet eyes you gave everyone else and he started wondering if he had just fallen in love with you the same way everyone else did. That there was nothing special or unique about it to you.

He had been confident after your first couple of dates, and then more so when you began staying the night or the weekend.

But you never stayed more than two nights in a row, even if he asked you to. He cleared a drawer out in his apartment, a shelf in his closet, but you kept living out of your duffel. You never left your toothbrush, even after he showed you where he kept his in the medicine cabinet, made space for yours. And they were little things, sure, things that maybe he would've ordinarily dismissed if it wasn't for the fact that he felt completely head over heels for you. And he wasn't sure how to be with you if you didn't feel the same.

And then, he had asked to meet your friends. He had asked you to come over for dinner over the phone and when you said you couldn't, that you had plans with friends, he asked about those plans.

"Oh," He said, trying to keep his tone casual, "Is it a girls only thing or are significant others going?" Because he knew enough about your friends, when you had talked about them, to know that most of them had long term partners.

You had admitted that it was an insecurity of yours, that you often felt like the only one without a partner.

"Uh, I think… I think partners were invited, yeah."

He let the silence fall, thought you would invite him yourself. But then second after second passed and he couldn't help it, "Okay… Do you think I could come along?"

He felt humiliated when you didn't immediately say yes, when he heard only static and your faint breaths for nearly a minute.

"Yeah, that would be… nice." You said finally.

"Look, I don't…" He ran a hand through his hair, "I won't come if you don't want me to."

"No, no, I want you to." You said quickly, "I do. I just, they can be… difficult sometimes. When I introduce them to someone new."

"Okay. I can handle it."

And he thought he could. But it was clear from the moment he sat at the table that they didn't want him there. That they thought he was just the flavor of the month and he'd be gone soon. Apparently, you did this whole thing often. Bringing new partners around. And again, he was left feeling like the connection he thought the two of you had wasn't all that special.

When he drove you home in silence that night, he saw you turn to him in his peripheral, "Is everything… okay?"

He wasn't sure if he was overreacting or not and probably, he should have just honestly communicated what he was feeling. But then he thought, why bother? In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't been seeing each other all that long. Why burden you with his emotional baggage? Why beg for you to love him the way he was trying to love you when you seemed so disinterested?

"Yeah, everything's fine." He glanced your way and smiled.

"Do you want to come upstairs?" You asked when he parked in front of your building.

He shook his head, "No, that's okay. I have some errands to run early tomorrow, I wouldn't want to wake you on your day off."

You watched him for a moment before nodding, "Yeah, okay."

You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, scratched at his stubble lightly, just the way he liked before kissing him. Jack savored it, the feeling of your mouth against his, the taste of your tongue in his mouth and your fingers running through his hair. He pulled away first, pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a slight smile, "Goodnight, kid."

He broke up with you less than two weeks later.

JANUARY

You were re-shelving some returned books that evening when you felt the presence of a patron nearby, staring at you, likely waiting for some sort of assistance. "I'll be with you in just a moment." You said, as you always did, to make sure they knew you knew they were there.

"Not a problem, I'm pretty patient."

You spun to see Jack standing there, leaning against a chair and smirking at you.

"What're you doing here?"

He shrugged, "I didn't know how else to get you to talk to me. I've been calling you for days."

Every time you saw him again, your stomach twisted painfully. After your brief lapse in judgment the other night, you had decided it would be best to just lock him out for good. You didn't want to hear what he had to say because how could he possibly justify all the hurt he had caused? There was nothing stopping him from doing it again once he got bored or when you did something to scare him off. Which was bound to happen, just as it had the first time.

"I thought you would get the hint." You said pointedly and walked around him to get to the trolley with returned books on it.

"I really just would like you to hear me out. Just for a couple of minutes, okay? And if you still want me to go, I'll go. You'll never hear from me again."

You threw up your hands in exasperation as you grabbed some books, "Fine. Be my guest."

"I broke up with you because I didn't think you liked me as much as I liked you."

Your hand froze still on the book you were re-shelving and you turned your head to look at him, "Bullshit." You spat.

He put a hand over his heart, "Honest. I had no idea you were in love with me."

You scoffed, "How could you—God, I could barely ever breathe around you because I liked you so much." The backs of your eyes burned, and you brought a hand to your chest, "It still feels like that, actually."

"You always had your foot halfway out the door—"

"That's not true—"

"I made room for you!" He was whisper shouting, conscious that they were in a library, "I made room for you in—in every corner of my life. I invited you to everything, I wanted to show you off everywhere we went. I wanted to be with you all the time, I was always asking, begging you to stay, and you never seemed to want to." He ran a hand through his hair, "You wouldn't even leave your toothbrush at my place."

You stared at him, dumbfounded, and then shook your head, "No… No, those were tests."

He frowned, not sure if he had heard you correctly, "What?"

Finally, you sighed and sat at an empty nearby table and Jack followed, "When… When you invited me to stay over for longer, or to… to leave my toothbrush, you were testing me to see if I was going to be a clingy girlfriend. And I wasn't. I always said no. I followed the rules."

He stared at you for a long time, taking in what you had said and softened his voice, "Baby, what rules?" He asked softly.

Your eyes were glassy and you pushed your palms into your eyes, "I have… rules that I follow at the beginning of every relationship so that… So that I don't seem as attached as I am."

He shook his head, "And why would you do something like that?"

You laughed humorlessly and looked up at the ceiling, as if to force the impending tears back in your eyes, "Do you know the feedback I always get when men inevitably leave me?" You sniffled and looked at him, "That I'm too clingy or needy. Or I want to move things along too fast and they want something more casual. That it freaks them out how into them I am and they just don't want to hurt me. That I said I love you too soon and it scared the shit out of them. And I liked, loved, you so much I was desperate to make sure that didn't happen with you."

You shook your head and looked down at your hands, "I guess I over corrected."

Suddenly, Jack was angry. Not at you, but at every man who had ever made you feel like you were too much.

"Hey, look at me," He said softly, waited for you to oblige him, "You should never ever feel like you have to dim your feelings or make yourself more palatable for anyone. And you absolutely do not have to do it for me."

You didn't seem like you believed him, so he went on, "The girl I fell in love with wears her heart on her sleeve and cares so damn much about everything. I knew who I wanted from the moment I saw you and it's the girl who organizes events to keep her community safe and walks into tables when someone flirts with her."

Finally, you laughed and looked up at him, "You mean that?"

"Yeah, I told you, you should walk into tables more often. I'm a sincere guy."

You laughed again and then hiccuped, "No, not that. When you said you love me?"

He leaned his forehead against yours, "Yes, I love you. And I want you to leave your toothbrush in my medicine cabinet."

You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes, "Do you think me and my toothbrush could come over tonight?"

He cradled your cheek with his hand, stroked his thumb along your cheekbone, "It's an open invitation. Whenever you want for as long as you want."

You sighed and closed the distance between you, kissing him gently and slowly.

"You know, now that you've said this," You swallowed and opened your eyes, "That I can be as in love with you as I want and act like it, that you've unleashed a monster?"

He shook his head slowly, "If you're a monster, I'm a monster."

You snorted, "Very poor reference to The Notebook."

He faked offense, "I thought it was pretty romantic, actually. My point is…" He forced eye contact with you again, "You are with a man who has absolutely no shame showing how in love with you I am. And I am very in love with you. So, do your worst. You won't scare me off."

You bit your lip to hide your giddy smile, "The crazy thing is I think I actually believe you."

#just reblogging bc u guys have been rlly sweet about this one 🫶🏻#and i want to say thank you bc i’m feeling soft lately #im not kidding when i say the pitt and this blog pulled me out of a really bad place #and so idk it’s just nice that like #things i’ve been creating to help myself cope with The Horrors #is hitting for you guys too #so idk!! thank you!!!#im so glad i made this silly lil blog three months ago

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