#2-4 and 3-5 go back and forth for me

[okartichoke]

hiii what's your favorite aa case? or top 3 if you cant pick lol

HMMMMMM,,, you're right i can't pick LOL,, I think my favorite would probably be Bridge to the Turnabout. It's a really definitive case, I think, just in the way it wraps up the whole trilogy, but especially with a focus on the Fey clan, Dahlia's arc, and Godot's. I'm also a BIG fan of how it leans into the supernatural. I have my grievances with it for sure,, (i.e. I will never forget the physics of that pendulum LOL) but I was never really into ace attorney for the crime solving, personally. It's fun, but I'm almost wholly here for the story and characters. And so, yeah, I just loved seeing it be a satisfying ended of everything we've seen from Dahlia and Godot (and Mia) in the rest of T&T. Also EVERYONE'S THERE?? It's like the Smash Ultimate of OG Trilogy cases. I like Franziska tagging along a lot and playing as Edgeworth. Give me more fan service capcom lmfao.

If I'm NOT being basic af and picking 3-5 tho,, (I'm also going to ignore other final cases, cuz those tend to be my favorite), my favorite case THEN, is 2-2: Reunion, and Turnabout. IK SHOCKER THAT I LIKE THE FEY CASE LOL. I'm a parody of myself. With this one, we get to learn SO MUCH about the Fey clan, and I eat it all up. I love meeting Pearl sm, I love Mimi Miney, honestly I really like Turner Grey and the fact that you talk to the victim a little bit. The whole hospital backstory is horrifying. OH omg wait Dr. Hotti is in this case huh? PFFTT i completely blocked it in my memory. Well, no case can be perfect I guess 💀 MIA'S PSYCHE LOCKES BREAK MY HEART EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT THEM? Franziska's debut?!?!?!? Very good case to me I enjoy it a lot.

[ariestrxsh]

olderbrothersbsf!matt x innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, use of toys, oral (f!receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, sneaking around, getting caught, small age gap (both characters are adults), forbidden love

જ⁀➴ ♡ summary: your older brother is back in town for summer vacation, and he brings home his childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, who can't seem to keep his eyes off of you

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask! enjoy. (p.s. sorry i made matt so pervy in this. honestly idk what got into me lmfao)

dividers by @/roseraris

Young God

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

You were in your room, listening to music, headphones in and volume on full blast while you sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through your playlist when some movement out of the corner of your left eye broke you out of your focus. You glanced up at your partially open door to see your older brother peeking through and tapping on the barrier to try to get your attention.

He was finally home for summer vacation from his second year of college. "Hey!" You jumped up, taking out your earbuds and throwing your arms around him in a big hug. "Hey, little sis. It's been a while," He greeted you, not having seen you since winter vacation earlier that year. Behind him was Matt Sturniolo, his childhood best friend who you hadn't seen in even longer.

"Hey, Matt," you said, your gaze traveling over towards your brother's best friend, who looked as attractive as ever. You'd always had an insatiable crush on him, and it didn't help that he had more facial hair, more tattoos, and a more chiseled jawline since the last time you'd seen each other.

He always hit like a drug, like a habit you couldn't kick, like a long-term addiction you couldn't shake. He flooded your system with cascading waves of dopamine whenever you looked at him and interacted with him. You craved him. However, you knew you couldn't ever pursue him.

Your brother had always warned you about him. "I know as you get older and start developing feelings for boys, you're gonna wanna start dating. But whoever you date, please don't date my friends, especially not Matt Sturniolo. I know he's my best friend, but the kid's bad news. He's only after one thing when it comes to girls, and he's off-limits to you," you recalled your brother saying to you.

After you'd started going through puberty, your brother had been hyperaware of the way your behavior suddenly changed towards his best friend. He'd started picking up on the way you'd been interacting differently with Matt, trying to get his attention more often and trying to find excuses to be in the same room as him, which terrified him.

You didn't know what he meant by that, only after one thing? You didn't know what that one thing was, but you secretly found yourself curious about it, and you wondered if it was something you could give to Matt. But you nodded at your brother, promising to stay away from Matt despite the way your stomach dropped when you looked at his friend.

"Hey, you're all grown up," Matt replied, bringing you back to the present. He subtly checked you out before pulling you into a hug, leaning down, hooking his arms around your waist, and picking you up. He let out a soft grunt as he lifted you into the air. He loved the way your body felt writhing against him as you giggled. "Put me down," you half-heartedly said, secretly loving the you felt in his arms.

Your brother shot him a look as he placed your feet back down on the hardwood floor beneath you. "I'm going off to college after the summer ends. Can you believe it?" You asked, swaying back and forth. "No, I can't. The boys at school are going to adore you," Matt said, nibbling on his lip and doing nothing to conceal the hungry look in his eye.

You didn't notice, but your protective older brother did.

"Hey, Matt and I are gonna go grab some dessert. He's gonna stay the night here. We'll be back," your brother said, wrapping up the conversation so he could go scold Matt in the car and remind him of the rules about hitting on his little sister. "Can I come?" You wondered, your eyes lighting up at a chance to be in Matt's presence once again. "I don't think that's a good idea," your brother started to say.

"Come on. Let her tag along so we can all catch up. I'll buy," Matt offered, looking back over at you with a smug smile. "Fine," your brother hesitantly said, leading the three of you out to the garage. You sat in the backseat in the middle and clicked your seltbelt closed.

On the way to get a sweet treat, Matt sat in the passenger seat with his head craned all the way around, his eyes lingering on your sweet treat between your thighs. You'd forgotten you were in a skirt and were innocently sitting with your legs splayed out while your pink panties peeked out from underneath the short fabric.

Your brother, who was focused on the road, was completely unaware of the show you were unknowingly putting on for Matt.

"So, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? You got a boyfriend now?" Matt lustfully cooed, not that he cared if you did, while studying the outline of your puffy lips through your underwear. He bit down on his lip while his cock jumped in his jeans at the sight.

Your brother glared over at him, recognizing the tone of voice he was using on you. The same he'd use when trying to take girls to bed. "No. All the boys my age are so immature. I don't want to be with any of them," you said, making a face. "Oh really?" Matt replied in a smug voice.

You guys had arrived at your destination, and after you guys had all ordered your desserts to go, Matt was handing his card over to the employee and giving you sly looks while he undressed you in his mind.

The three of you piled back into the car to head home. Matt watched intently as you swirled your tongue around on your strawberry ice cream, imagining you were lapping up something else. "Thank you for the dessert, Matt. It's so good," you said, letting out a soft moan while you savored the taste. You weren't trying to tease him, but you were driving him wild.

"Oh, a little is dripping onto the sides there," Matt pointed at the melted, pink liquid leaking down the waffle cone, and you licked a long stripe up the dessert, cleaning it off with your tongue. "Almost got it. Give it one more good lick," he urged you.

"That's it. Good girl. You got it," Matt purred, licking hot fudge off his spoon as you dragged your tongue up the length of your cone once more. His eyes flashed back to your panties, and he noted a small damp spot on the front of the pink cotton. Blood rushed to your cheeks as Matt watched you.

Your brother reached over and slugged Matt in the arm, almost making him drop his hot fudge sundae. "Hey!" Matt exclaimed. "Hey, why'd you do that?" You innocently asked, secretly enjoying the way Matt was watching you and talking to you. "Don't worry about it. Matt's just being a perv," your brother scoffed.

You realized where Matt's eyes kept traveling back to when he wasn't watching you clean off your cone. Suddenly, you became self-conscious, slamming your legs shut and going back to eating your ice cream in silence while you looked out the window.

It's not so much that you minded Matt viewing you that way. It's that your brother was picking up on it. You avoided eye contact with both of them, worried that they had noticed how much you liked when Matt had called you good girl.

No one said a word the rest of the awkward car ride home. Later that night, the boys went into your brother's room, which was only ever occupied when he was home from school, to play video games.

You desperately needed to take care of the aching feeling between your legs you'd been wrestling with since Matt had picked you up earlier when you'd hugged him. You reached into your pink panties and started slowly rubbing yourself while you pictured Matt.

On the other side of the wall, Matt and your brother were tapping away on their controllers in front of their game. Your brother was quietly berating Matt for the way he was looking at you and talking to you earlier while they waited for the next round to render.

"Dude, that's my sister. Please don't try anything."

"Relax. I'm just having a little fun making her blush. She's really cute when she gets all worked up," Matt smugly responded. "Gross. Don't talk about her like that. If you lay a finger on her, our friendship is over. I'm serious," your brother said in a somber tone. How about in her? Matt silently wondered, smirking to himself.

"Seriously, I'll kill you if she loses it to you," he told Matt sternly, insinuating you were a virgin. "She hasn't lost it yet?" Matt's gazed off into the distance as a perverted scene unfurled in his mind. "Gross. Forget I told you that. Just stay away from her," your brother said, eating his words after he remembered Matt had a thing for innocence corruption.

"Don't worry," he smirked, holding up both hands up in a defensive position, despite the thoughts going on behind his eyes about stuffing you for the first time. "I'm going to bed after this game. I feel sick after watching you with her today," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Matt brushed off his friend's comments. It's not that Matt didn't value his friendship with your brother and love him dearly. It's just that he was weak to his carnal desires, unable to say no to them and unable to turn down temptation when it was taunting him. Especially when it was forbidden fruit.

After they finished their final round, they shut off the light and Matt laid down on the floor next to your brother's bed with a blanket and a pillow. Your brother had fallen asleep and started softly snoring, and right as Matt began to drift off, a low hum woke him up.

At first he thought he was getting a call, but when he peered down at a black screen after picking up his phone, he realized the vibrating was coming from somewhere else entirely. It was low, unwavering, and seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall, in the direction of your bedroom.

Matt stealthily got up and slipped out the room. When he stepped into the hallway, he realized a dim light was pouring out of your room and into the hallway through a crack in your door you'd left open a bit on accident. Matt approached your room and peered in through the sliver of space between the door and the frame.

There you were, bathed in warm candlelight, laying on top of your blanket naked, legs spread, and steadying a vibrator on your clit. Matt smirked to himself as he studied the way your thighs quivered while you used your toy.

Your lips were fixed in an o shape, your cheeks were pink, and your brows were pinched together. You shut your eyes and threw your head back as Matt's name slipped through your slew of whimpers.

He poked his head into your room, pushing the door open, and he slowly invited himself inside, approaching you to get a better look at you. He loved the way your slick folds glistened in the soft lighting, and the way your breasts started to subtly bounce as you started to violently shake.

You were right on the verge of greatness, slowly nearing a climactic ending, when your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Matt standing at the foot of your bed, staring down hungrily at your pussy. Immediately, you grew insecure about being watched, chasing away your orgasm.

"Matt!?" You said his name again, but this time in an aggravated whisper. "Poor thing. All alone in here. Why play with those toys when you could have the real thing?" Matt cooed, reaching for your pink vibrator. You handed it to him while it was still buzzing, and when he rested it back onto your clit, you let out a relieved sigh in response.

"Good girl. Just lay back and relax. Just here to help," he softly directed you. "Oh, Matt," you breathed out softly, lifting your hips up and grinding up against the vibrator in his grip. You glanced down at his smirk and how his eyes were fixed on the way you were clenching around nothing.

With his free hand, he took his middle finger and started teasing your folds with it. Your eyes widened as he sunk his finger into your drooling cunt. For a moment, you thought you must be dreaming. You let out a loud, satisfied sigh as he pushed it all the way in.

"You gotta be quiet, sweet thing. If your brother had any idea what I'm doing to you right now, he'd kill me."

You nodded at him and placed your palm over your mouth to muffle all the noise you couldn't keep yourself from making. "It's gotta be our little secret," he grinned at you as he added another finger, and you could feel the cold metal of his rings on the warm flesh of your thighs as he pumped them back and forth into your heat.

"You're so tight," he whispered, relishing in the way you clenched around his digits while they started to stretch you out. He shut off your toy for a moment, setting it off to the side, and repositioning himself.

He lowered his head between your legs while he fingered you, and he started to work his mouth on your special place, rolling his soft tongue over your clit and manipulating your folds with it. He closed his lips down around your bundle of nerves and gently hummed against it, recreating the feeling of the vibrator, only much better.

You arched your back up off the bed and rolled your hips forward, chasing the sensation of his tongue exploring places no one ever had before. "Like that, princess?" He asked you in between licks. "I love it," you whispered back.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, and your legs started to tremble as he continued stimulating you with his mouth and his fingers. "Good girl. You got this," he cooed while you got close. His fingers curled so perfectly, hitting all the right spots while you kept your hand held tightly over your mouth, desperately trying to avoid waking anyone up.

"That's it, pretty thing. Cum all over my fingers," Matt purred sweet nothings from between your legs while he felt you starting to tighten around his fingers. "Relax. Let it happen. Give in to how good it feels," he talked you through it while you shook beneath him, experiencing your very first orgasm given to you by another person.

You let out a few soft whimpers that you couldn't keep to yourself while you steadily throbbed around Matt's fingers that had slowed to a stop once you'd finished. He licked them clean, and he complimented your flavor as he started pulling his cock out of his sweatpants.

You couldn't see much in the low candlelight, but it was intimidating-looking. You could see the veins that texturized his thick shaft, and you could make out how swollen the mushroom-shaped head was.

"You ever had one of these in here, sweetheart?" Matt cooed, giving you a devilish smile, and introducing his bulbous tip to your slick hole. You bit your lip and shook your head from side to side, confirming your innocence to him.

"Oh, poor thing. Let's fix that. You're way too cute to not be getting fucked," Matt groaned as he pushed it in. You squelched around his thick rod, and he shoved it all the way in until it filled you entirely, the base of his dick resting against your entrance.

You felt your pussy expanding around him as he started rocking his hips back and forth, hitting a pleasant spot deep inside of you. You held your breath for a moment, still adjusting to the size difference between his fingers and his cock, and when you exhaled, a few stifled sounds came through. It hurt so good.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. Can't believe this is your first dick," he praised you softly while he delivered a few harder thrusts. Soon, there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

He grabbed you by your waist, steadying himself while he started to speed up, getting caught up in how good your virgin hole felt wrapped around him. He watched as he pumped back and forth, fixating on the way you coated his length in your arousal.

"That's it. Take it like the good girl you are. I know you've been dreaming about this for years," he smirked at you, and you eagerly nodded in response. It was like a fantasy come true, losing your virginity to a forbidden man, your brother's best friend, while your brother slept soundly one room over.

The bed started gently rocking and making a soft rhythmic thump thump thump as the headboard made contact with the wall. But each of you were too caught up in how incredible the other person's body parts felt to care about the noises you were making.

Matt picked up your toy again, and after propping your right leg up onto his shoulder to get a deeper stroke, he turned on your vibrator once more and held it on your clit again, sending your eyes rolling back in your head and causing your jaw to fall open in sheer desire. You'd never experienced stimulation quite like this, and you didn't know how badly you craved it until now.

When your gaze shifted back to Matt, he was peering down at you with glossed over eyes and a pleasure-filled expression. You were both at the gates of heaven, about to immerse yourselves into a shared orgasm that neither one of you could fend off any longer.

"That's it. Be a good girl. Finish all over my forbidden cock," Matt whispered, all too aware of the dynamic that existed between you, mocking your brother's attempt to keep you two apart, that instead drove the two of you into each other's arms in a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

You both tensed up, Matt injecting you with his seed and filling you to the brim while you throbbed around him, milking him dry. You guys softly moaned in harmony, your bodies moving in unison. The sound of the bed thudding against the wall came to a stop, and the buzzing of your toy dropped off when Matt killed the power on it.

"Wow. Your pussy is so pretty pumped full of my cum," Matt whispered with an edge of thrill in his voice as he pulled his meat out of you and watched the way it leaked out of you while you continued clenching around negative space, recovering from the orgasm Matt had just given you.

He was still admiring the mess he made inside you that started to leak onto your sheets when a stern and infuriated voice boomed from behind him, sending chills down his spine and sending a sobering wave of fear through his system when he realized the two of you had been caught. It was your brother, watching from the door way.

"I thought I fucking told you to stay away from her, Sturniolo."

part two here ❣️

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land Part 4

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

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

40.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: Angst, discussions of being shot and the shooting, anxiety about partner’s safety, emotions, Robby is sad and has a bad day, discussion of Robby, Jake and Leah (Pitt-Fest happened before Reader and Jack got together), panic attack, anxiety, pretending the Buhl Planitarium is open late, alcohol, vague discussion of Jack’s time in the military, unprotected PIV sex (BC implied with committed relationship), some voyeurism-ness if you really squint hard, oral sex, dom Jack briefly, manhandling briefly, FLUFF, Myrna, Reader: can bake, will take Jack’s last name, struggles with body confidence, is not scared of horses, gets drunk, enjoys prehistory, Author: copped out of writing a lot of sex sorry, half assed the sex she did write sorry again, is terrible at summaries; did not proofread or edit 

Summary: Normalcy is shattered. You and Jack recover and have some fun.

AN: Nobody is judging 40.5k harder than I am. I genuinely feel bad about the word count because I know it can make it harder to read, especially at once, but it gets really hard to cut it into shorter parts sometimes. So please know I really appreciate you taking the time to read it all and then interact with it. Likes and reblogs and comments and your guys thoughts mean so much to me and really do inspire me. I am short on serotonin and all the interactions give me a little burst of it, genuinely. That all said, we start off pretty heavy but after the first scene things get much fluffier and happier for the most part so it's 100% a much, much lighter read than Part 3. I should have Part 5 out by the end of the week! And again, thank you so much for reading.

You and Jack fall back into a routine, back into normal. Things are really starting to actually feel better. But all it takes is one thing to upend it all. 

You weren’t looking forward to this Monday. Neither was Jack. Both of you were simultaneously surprised and unsurprised the day even came. Both of you were also aware that the fragile normal you’d just settled into was shattered, even if only temporarily and even if you knew it was coming. Both of you hated it.

Trial. 

The shooter wouldn’t plead. So you and Jack find yourselves standing outside of the Westmoreland County Courthouse. The case had unsurprisingly been moved from Allegheny County and you were grateful for that. It would have been another level of fucked up to have to confront the man that shot you in the courtroom he shot you in. Even in the same courthouse would have been bad. 

It’s the first day. Jury selection. Jack told you that you didn’t need to be here every day, that it was okay to only come on the day you had to testify. You knew he was right but some part of you needed to be there for the whole thing. It’s not like it was going to be a super long trial. But long enough and emotional enough to destroy normal. Both you and Jack have to take a week off work, stay in a hotel so you don’t have to constantly drive back and forth. The trial shoves it all right back in your faces again. 

You hate how easily normal is obliterated. How easily that man is stealing normal away from you again.

“You sure about this?” Jack asks as he squeezes your hand. He’s not questioning you or your decision, just asking if you’re okay and ready. 

“No. But also yes.” You look over at him. “You’ll be here every day with me, right? I know it’s a big ask, and that it’ll be just as hard for you as it is for me at times and I feel bad about asking you to put yourself through that for me but I just need to be here. I have something to prove to myself even if I can’t figure out exactly what it is.”

“Course I will, Doll. I’d never let you go in there alone, not to face him or this in general.” He steps in front of you and wraps his arms around you, pulls your head to his chest for a moment as you wind your arms around him. “And you’re not asking me, nor am I being put through anything. I’m here supporting my fiancée. I’ve got you,” Jack murmurs before leaning down to kiss you. You let yourself get lost in it, lost in him, even with as chaste as he keeps the kiss. 

You look down once you’ve broken apart, can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes for your next question. You already know the answer to it but you just need the reassurance. “If this, being here more than I have to be makes me slide back or get worse again. You… You won’t get mad, right? At me for kind of causing it in a way?”

Jack knows why you’re asking the questions, knows that your use of right at the end of the first is because you already know the answer and just need reassurance. He’ll give it to you as much as you need. 

“No. I won’t be mad at you. I won’t be mad at all. Healing isn’t linear,” he reminds you, “and that’s okay.” You give him a little nod and one of his hands finds your chin and he hooks a finger under it, pulls up gently to see if you’ll move your head, he would never force you. You let him pull your chin up and look at him. “And Doll, even if you do slide back, it is not because of you. You wouldn’t be causing it. Okay?”

You look at him for a moment, really try to fully believe what he’s saying, before giving him a small nod. Jack kisses your forehead before releasing you and lacing your fingers together again for the walk inside. 

You sit in the back, off to the side. It gives you your own little bubble but you can still see everything. Everyone. Him. 

At the beginning before voir dire starts the Judge reads out all of the charges. It’s obvious when he gets to the count number that represents you. You’re the only person he’d shot that day who lived. So you’re the only attempted murder. It’s difficult for you to hear yes, to cope with the reality that someone tried to murder you. To hear it spoken about that way. You’d spoken with the district attorney about it though during witness preparation so you had your head wrapped around it a bit. 

Hearing it levels Jack. It takes a second because he’s in some weird denial about it but Jack’s brain finally lets him accept it and think about it. That was you, that count represents you, attempted murder, someone tried to murder you. That man tried to murder you and take you away from him. There’s a few seconds where Jack thinks he might be having a heart attack because it gets so hard to breathe at the thought. Rationally he knew that’s what it was, that’s not really a realization for him. It’s just hearing it phrased like that. Attempted murder.

Being there is hard. Hearing it all. Seeing it all when security footage gets played. You knew the video was coming. They’d showed you it during witness preparation. Jack knew it was coming too because you told him, but he didn’t realize how much it would impact him, having to see it all play out, even when the video isn’t of where you were on that day. More will be played when you’re on the stand. The video of you. Where you’re so clearly visible and what’s happening is so clearly visible. 

During a recess on the first day while the defendant is still in the courtroom Jack pulls you a little closer to him. “Doll,” he says lowly, not quite a whisper, but low enough to keep it just between the two of you. “I know it’s hard. I know I don’t even know how hard it is for you but I need you to look at him for a second, please. Just a second.” You turn your head and do as he asks as much as you don’t want to. You know he wouldn’t ask you for no reason. “I know you still feel guilty and like my feelings are your fault, like you caused all of this, that our need to heal and recover is somehow on you, somehow your fault. But it’s not. It’s his fault. It’s on that man sitting in that chair. Nobody else. I want you to try and remember that.”

You get a bit teary and don’t say anything for fear of bursting into tears, just nod and turn into him. His arms were already open and waiting, hand finding the back of your head and holding you close. You bury your face in his neck, take in deep breaths through your nose to smell him, let him overwhelm as many of your senses as possible right now to keep you from crying. 

You cry when you get to the hotel that night. And the next. You hate it, you tell Jack, because it means you’re going to end up crying on the stand and you don’t want to give that bastard the satisfaction. Jack holds you and reminds you it’s okay to cry up there if you need to. You won’t be the first or last, but that he understands. And he thinks you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Then the day comes. Your name gets called and then you’re up there sworn in and testifying. The DA plays the video of it. It’s the first time Jack sees it. He didn’t even know there was video footage of the courtroom, of where you were actually shot. He didn’t know there was video footage of you being shot, even if you can’t really tell when it happens from the video. It destroys a little piece of him, completely rattles him. But he knows that right now he has to be strong for you. 

You surprise yourself but not Jack. You don’t cry on the stand. Don’t give him the satisfaction. You completely and totally wall yourself off. Shut down emotionally. Make yourself deliberately numb. It’s just what you have to do to survive this. When you’re asked to identify the man who shot you you’re able to pretend to be cool, unbothered, even, as you describe what the man who shot you is wearing. 

Jack on the other hand does cry a little. Because it’s hard, it’s really fucking hard to hear this. Yes, he’s heard it before because you guys have talked about it, but it’s different hearing it here in front of all of these people, seeing and watching you react to the video. It’s hard to watch you totally shut down emotionally because he can see it in your eyes, but he understands why you have to. It’s hard watching you get cross-examined and needlessly grilled like there isn’t clear video showing it happening. 

It’s hard to watch the fucking video. To finally have a visual of what happened to you that day. To know that at some point during the video you get shot. It makes him nauseous, so nauseous at points he worries he’s going to face the choice of being sick right where he is or having to run out of the courtroom on you. He never does though, is pretty sure it’s knowing you need him that keeps it from getting to that point. He hates it. All of it. And he feels so selfish thinking about how hard this is for him when you’re the one up there on the stand. 

When you’re finally finished you walk back over and sit next to him, give him a small smile that falls a little when you see his red eyes. You’re completely out of it and not truly present and he gets it, doesn’t try to pull you back. Instead he gives you a little smile back, pulls you close and whispers in your ear how fucking proud of you he is, how much he loves you. 

You grab dinner at a place across the street from the courthouse after the trial adjourns for the day. Neither of you say much but Jack is happy when you actually eat a fair amount. The car ride back to the hotel is also largely silent. Jack knows you need it to be, need just the background hum of the radio playing. Both of you know that if you start talking now you’ll fall apart and you really don’t want to fall apart in the car. You want to be able to fall apart in Jack’s arms. 

You make it into the hotel room and hear Jack lock the deadbolt before you freeze. You’re not sure what it is about the hotel room that suddenly makes walking or doing anything seem impossible. Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re finally in a safe place where you can break down in Jack’s arms at war with how badly you don’t want to break down at all. Maybe you feel like if you do nothing, if you don’t move or speak or do anything, then you won’t break down and you won’t have to feel everything you’ve been keeping down today. 

Jack knows. Even with your back to him and unable to see your face he knows you’re stuck. He walks up behind you and rests his hands on your hips, gives them a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you want to shower?” he murmurs.

It takes you a moment to fully process what he says and formulate an answer. “No,” you whisper. 

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, kisses your temple. He squeezes your hips again and pushes on one and pulls on the other gently to get you to turn around so he can help you get in the bathroom. He puts the toilet seat down and gets you to sit on it. 

He gets his teeth brushed, stands close enough to you that you can lean your head forward and rest your forehead against his side while he brushes. Once he’s done and has washed his face he turns to you.

He’s silent as he grabs one of your makeup wipes and tilts your head up with one hand before he starts cleaning your face with the other. He’s so careful around your eyes getting your mascara off it makes tears stream down your face. 

Jack doesn’t comment on them, just tosses the wipe and gives you a kiss and a thigh squeeze before offering you his hands. You take them and let him pull you up and get you standing in front of the sink face to face with him. He grabs your headband and pulls it on, secures the rest of your hair the way you usually do to keep it from getting wet. He makes eye contact with you for a second and while you’re present enough, he knows you’re not going to take it from here. He grabs an extra towel and drapes it over you to cover your front. It’s not much but at least something. He uses his foot to slide over the shower mat so that it’s between the two of you. 

Jack gets a washcloth wet with warm water and uses it to wet your face, grabs your face wash and puts some in his hand, starts to rub it together and then on your face. He sees your lip tremble for a second but you don’t let yourself cry. He turns the water back on, grabs the washcloth in one hand and gets it soaking, a towel in the other. He squeezes the washcloth over part of your face to rinse it, holding the towel just below to catch the water. He repeats it over and over, soaking the washcloth, shifting to a new part of the towel until your face is completely rinsed. He pats your face dry with a hand towel then wrings out the washcloth and hangs it and the towel he’d been using up to dry. 

You track him with your eyes, something about watching him and the strong grace he moves with soothing you. He gets your toothbrush wet and toothpaste on it. You open your mouth a little automatically for him and let him brush your teeth for you. It is one of the most intimate and loving things Jack has ever done for you. And you love it. 

But you hate that you can’t take care of yourself, start to wonder how long Jack will be willing to take care of you like this, like you’re a child. You know it’s one night and that you’d do it for him forever if you needed to, but it feels different for you. He holds your face so gently as he brushes your teeth for you. When he’s done he turns the water on and puts some in a glass for you, hands you it. “I can’t do this part for you Doll or you know I would.”

You force yourself to sip from the glass and spit in the sink, rinse your mouth a few times. You give the slightest nod when you’re done and Jack wipes your lips with a towel, rinses the sink out before getting you back to sitting on the toilet. 

He grabs the first product in your nighttime skincare routine and smooths it out over your skin. He gives it a second to absorb like you always do and then he grabs the next product. Your lip and chin tremble harder than they have all night at it and you have to shut your eyes and look down for a moment. He knows your whole routine. Just from observing you. Just because he wants to know so he’s prepared for this, for the time you can’t do it for yourself. You know he knows your morning routine and shower routine too. 

You open your eyes and tilt your face back up for Jack, the two of you looking at each other for a moment before he starts rubbing the next product in. There’s no hesitation in his eyes, no irritation or annoyance that he’s having to do this, no frustration or anger, no sadness or pity. Just love and adoration and pride. You weren’t expecting to see pride. He gives you a little smile and then starts rubbing it in and the way his eyebrows come together and eyes narrow slightly in concentration makes your heart flutter because he’s so adorable. He finishes your routine in perfect order, gets your headband off and hair back as you like it and puts some lotion on his own face and then holds his hands back out for you again. 

You take them again and he leads back to the main room, carefully strips you and gets you into your pajamas before helping you slide into bed. He’s quick to change and turn all the lights off except for the lamp on his bedside table. He sets an alarm for the morning and gets his prosthetic off. It’s still fairly early but he knows it’ll be a while before you sleep. He also knows you’re not leaving this bed tonight. 

He turns and arranges some pillows so he can be propped up a little against the headboard. Once he slides in and gets settled on his back you move closer to him, lay on your side and cuddle into him, your top leg hooking over the top of him as you roll into him and get as close to him as you can, head on his chest. 

“Thank you.” You whisper it so softly it’s barely audible. 

“Nothing to thank me for, Doll.” Jack has his arms wrapped around you tightly, pulls you into him a little more, shifting himself at an angle just slightly so you can get closer. “You know my routine and would do the same for me.” He feels you shake your head slightly. He knows you’re not saying that you wouldn’t, but that it’s different, he can hear you saying it, and trying to explain it really is because his routine is shorter. Jack also knows that you need to let yourself do this, let yourself cry and feel everything from today. He hates it, hates how much it will hurt you, but he knows it’ll hurt more and for longer the more time you wait to do it. 

“I love you.” He leans his head down and nuzzles his nose in your hair, kisses the top of your head. “And I want you to know how fucking proud I am of you. For having the strength to get up there and watch what happened to you all over again in front of the man who did it. For doing what you wanted and I knew you could do, not crying and giving him the satisfaction. For being here for the full trial and going back again tomorrow and the next day and until there’s a verdict. I’ve got you, okay? Always. Unquestionably. So whenever you’re ready.” He’s trying to give you subtle encouragement, let you know that he knows what you need and is here for you. You start to shake a little and he knows you’re at the edge. Jack whispers your name.

That’s what does it. His whisper of your name. You fall completely apart in Jack’s arms, sobbing into him as he hugs you tighter, doesn’t let any of the pieces slip past him. All you can do is sob for a couple of minutes, choking on air and your tears every time you try to say something. As much as you’re weeping because you’re sad it’s more panicky this time. Jack can tell from the way you shake and cling to him. 

“I, I h-hate this Jack, I hate it!” You finally manage to get out after several minutes. Your hand fists at the front of the t-shirt he’s wearing to sleep in. “I hate that I let him get to me like this. I hate how, I hate, I hate how scared he made me feel.”

It’s been a while since Jack has seen you this worked up, panicking more than crying. It’s hard for him not to step in, but he knows you need this. “All I could think about was, was watching him point a gun at me and shutting my eyes and I heard, I heard the gun go off, but I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t and I thought I was okay, I really did Jack, I promise, I promise I wasn’t trying to lie in the, in the t-trauma room.”

“I know,” he whispers into your hair, “you were in shock and had so much adrenaline you didn’t feel it.” He kisses at the top of your head, runs his hand up and down your back and keeps one holding the back of your head. “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

That makes you cry harder because you know you are. You always feel safe with Jack. Sometimes the only place you feel safe anymore is when you’re with him. “I know, I know, I just wasn’t,” you’re interrupted by a wracking breath, “I just wasn’t with you, wasn’t with you on the stand and I, I was scared and kept thinking what if he had a gun again somehow.” Jack shuts his eyes at that, clenches his jaw tight. Seeing you like this breaks his heart, causes him physical discomfort and hearing how scared you were, how you thought you might get shot again makes him feel the familiar pressure and rush behind his eyes of tears forming. But Jack’s wrong. You weren’t thinking about getting shot.

“I didn’t even,” you sniffle a couple of times, “I wasn’t even thinking about, about what if I get shot again, I was thinking what if he turned and shot you Jack, what if it was you, what would I do, what was I supposed to do and and how would I go on if you died, and, and” you take in a couple of hiccuped breaths and the tears Jack felt forming start to slide down his face because you were worried about him. Not yourself. “And then it made me feel worse because what if I had died, what would’ve happened to you? You would have been, been so sad Jack and I wouldn’t have been there to help you and I hate, hate thinking about you being that sad J-Jack and don’t ever want you to hurt like that.” You take a huge choked breath in. Jack knows you need to let this out but you’re getting close to a point of him intervening because of how hard you’re starting to panic, escalating quickly the more you talk. Hearing this kills him and his tears fall harder even as he keeps his focus on you. “Then I felt bad, felt guilty because of what I said to you in the hospital about if I had died, and wishing I had, and you could grieve, grieve properly and move on because just thinking about it.” You take in another breath but it’s shallow, blown out quickly as you start to hyperventilate. “Just thinking,” a breath in and out, “about it, I could never,” more hyperventilating, “never move on from you and I, I,” you start to feel a little dizzy, “I said that to you and made you, made you think it.”

“Okay, Doll.” Jack knows you’ve tipped over an edge and have said enough and need help calming down and regulating. “You’re going to make yourself pass out, I need you to follow my breathing, yeah?” Jack grabs one of your hands and brings it to his chest even though your head is already there. He adjusts his breathing to deep breaths in and out and feels you trying to follow him through your tears and hiccuped breaths. “Five things you can see, please. If you can.” He knows with the tears and swelling of your eyes it might be hard. 

You wipe at your face a little with the sleeve of your shirt. “The sheets, pillows, your shirt, your arm, the wallpaper.”

“Good.” He kisses the top of your head. “Four you can feel.”

“Your shirt, your hands on my back, how warm you are, my face throbbing.”

That last one hurts Jack a little and he has to fight from sniffling and making you aware he’s crying. He doesn’t want you to start taking care of him and he knows you will. He clears his throat and hopes you won’t think anything of it. He’s sure if he doesn’t he’ll sound like he’s been crying. “Three you can hear.” 

You take in a deep breath, breathing calming and starting to match his. “The AC, your heart and your breathing.”

“Two you can smell. Again, if you can. I know your sinuses are probably swollen.” He gives you another kiss to the top of your head. 

You try to take a couple of breaths in through your nose. It’s not completely in vain. “You. Your body wash and you.”

“And one you can taste.”

“Metal. The adrenaline.” He’s the one who taught you that. “It’s fading though.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Jack kisses the top of your head again and can feel you go to speak. “Don’t apologize for anything, but especially not the shirt.” It pulls a little laugh from you which makes him smile. He’s conflicted, wants to kiss you so badly but knows you’ll be able to tell he was crying and he doesn’t want you to feel responsible. He reaches over and hits the button on the lamp on his table. The darkness provides cover. “Let me kiss you?”

You nod, move your head back and lift up a bit as he leans down to you, gives you a couple before you both settle back. And then you sit in a comfortable silence. There are words at times. Most from Jack, quiet reassurances, he loves you, he��s got you, he’s so so so fucking proud of you. Some from you, apologies he tells you not to give, thank yous and you love hims. Eventually you fall asleep in Jack’s arms and he lets you. He doesn’t wake you to try and get to some resolution of your feelings tonight. That’s not what you need. You need sleep.

Jack stays awake a bit just holding you and studying your face. Your eyes and lips and nose are all swollen, lashes still a bit clumped from your tears. You snuffle more in your sleep because of how swollen your sinuses are. And he loves you, so fucking much. And he hates seeing you like this, hates seeing you struggle despite how human it is. 

Jack knows all too well that life breaks parts of you sometimes. But it doesn’t mean you’re broken, it means you’re human. Life forces you to learn that all humans have pieces of them they’ve had to try and fuse back together. That to be human is to break at times. 

He knows that in grieving and healing, you pick up the pieces and tape them back together, and when they fall apart again because the adhesive of the tape wears away you glue them back together. Each time you put the pieces back together the bond used to do so is stronger because you’ve grieved and healed a bit more. So when something hits just right and the glue fails, you pick the pieces back up and weld them together. 

But Jack knows all too well that even what’s welded together rusts. Metal corrodes and holes form on welding seams. Because no bond is ever perfect, ever strong enough to keep together something whole that’s already been in pieces. Grief never goes completely away. He knows this will never go completely away. Not for him and not for you. And he accepts that, the way you accept that the things that have happened to him and resultant grief will never go completely away. 

That doesn’t stop Jack searching for the perfect thing though, the perfect thing to do that will make it like this never happened. The perfect words to tell you or the perfect look to give you or the perfect kiss to give you or the perfect way to hug you to bond everything back together permanently so that you’d never have to hurt over this again. 

Neither of you wake until the alarm Jack set goes off in the morning. You’re in the same position you fell asleep in, both of you out hard. You stir on Jack’s chest and he shifts you both so that your face is next to his, pulls you further out of sleep with kisses to your face and neck. You don’t talk about your panic attack much, he checks in with you, makes sure you’re okay and asks if you want to talk about it. You tell him you don’t, you just needed to get that out and if you talk again you’ll break down again and you just want to finish the trial and talk about it once you’re home. Jack respects that and doesn’t push, just gives you a kiss and says okay.

You don’t know it but once the trial is over and there’s a conviction Jack asks the DA for a copy of the tape that was played while you testified. The DA, rather inexplicably, agrees and gives him a copy of it. 

And Jack becomes obsessed with it. 

He goes to bed with you. Some nights he waits until you’re asleep to slip out of bed and go watch it at the kitchen table on his laptop. Other nights he falls asleep and wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to watch it. Over and over and over again. 

You notice that he seems more tired than usual. You ask him about it and he chalks it up to getting used to being back at work after being off. You believe him but there’s a certain part of you that has a little doubt. You don’t push it though, know sooner or later it’ll come out or he’ll come to you. 

Jack doesn’t get the opportunity to come to you about it. Because one night after he’s slipped out to go watch it at the table you wake up, have a moment of panic when he’s not next to you. But his side of the bed is warm and when you open your bedroom door and walk out in just his t-shirt a faint glow from the kitchen reassures you. He must be getting a drink. 

You pad to the kitchen and are confused to see him sitting there, headphones in, watching something on his laptop. You feel bad because there’s no great way to get his attention without startling him. But as you get closer you get a glimpse of what he’s watching and ice floods your veins. 

“Jack?” You call loudly, hoping he’ll hear you, and he must, just enough to make him glance to see if you’re really there or if he made it up. 

He knows by the look on your face that you’ve seen what it is he’s watching. He pauses the video wordlessly, pulls off his headphones. The two of you watch each other for a second. “Where did you get that?” 

Jack looks away from you, back at the laptop. “DA.” 

You nod slowly. “Just gave you a copy?” Jack looks back at you, defensive. You hold your hands up. “I believe you, I’m just… surprised I guess. That they would do that.” 

He shrugs. “Well they did.” 

You shift on your feet a little as you try to think of how to progress the conversation. You don’t want to force him to talk to you but you need to know what this is about. “Is this why you’ve been tired? How long have you had it Jack?”

“Does it matter?” He fires it back just a little too quick, a little too acerbic. You furrow your brows and let your lips pull down a little. “No, fuck-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. That was defensive. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” You nod at him, a silent acceptance of his apology, give him time to collect his thoughts. “I got it a few days before you started noticing I was more tired than usual. Week or so ago, maybe.”

You take in a little breath and let it out. You’re mad at yourself for missing it, for not pushing him more on why he seemed so tired. Mad at yourself for letting him suffer alone because of you. You catch yourself. You’re internalizing his feelings into guilt. You think back on what your couple’s therapist has taught you both to stop. Or at least to try to. 

“Why?” you ask delicately as you walk a bit closer to him. “Why did you want it?”

Another shrug. It’s unlike him. Very unlike him. “I don’t know.” He glances back at it again. He’s still a little defensive. “I just wanted to see what happened.” You don’t say anything, just tilt your head a little. You can tell he wants to say more. “I wanted to see what happened to you. Up close. I thought maybe it would help me relate or understand better.” 

You can tell he’s being truthful, you know he is, that he would never lie to you. But you can also tell he’s still trying to figure out how to tell you the whole truth. “Why alone? Why not watch it with me, talk to me about it?”

“I didn’t want to put you through that just because I wanted to try and understand more.” He’s too stoic. His face too emotionless. 

“Honey, if you’ve been watching this for a week” you let out a sharp breath as the realization of it really hits you. “If you’ve been torturing yourself by watching this for a week, I… You should have come to me. Did I do something? Is there a reason why you didn’t want to?”

He lets out a little huff. His façade is starting to crack. “Like I said,” it’s a touch snippy, and you know he feels bad about the way it comes out the second he says it, can see it in the way his eyes narrow just slightly. “I didn’t want to put you through it.”

“Jack-”

“Because how was I supposed to watch it with you?!” It’s not yelled, his voice isn’t raised, not as such. He just says it with a certain force, not of anger but of sorrow. “How was I supposed to watch it with you?” Jack repeats, voice cracking as tears make his eyes glassy. “How was I supposed to sit here and watch it with you?” It’s whispered. His whole jaw trembles as he clenches it to try and keep the tears away, shaking his head a bit. Jack lets out a breath through his nose and looks at you. 

“I’m a doctor. I take away people’s pain, I make them better. And I can’t take away your pain now or make you better, mentally or physically, and I couldn’t when you got shot or when you were in a coma or any of the times you’ve panicked or sobbed into me and I am just so fucking aware of it. Of how I fail you. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad or because I want to make your struggle about me or to make you feel guilty for leaning on me. I want that. I need it. You need it. We need it. It’s not your fault, at all, it’s his, and I don’t want this to make you feel guilty even though I know it will, but I still want to talk to you about it as selfish as that sounds maybe.” Jack stops to take a breath in. You both know it’s not selfish.  

“It kills me that the thing I do, the thing I do well, I get to you, the most important person whose pain I could ever take away and make better and I just can’t. You’re the only person that matters. Fuck everyone else. And I can’t use my skills and knowledge to make you better. I’m failing you, I feel like I'm totally failing you, and sometimes I get so in my head and sit and start worrying about the day you’re going to realize I’m failing you and just how badly I’m failing you and leave. The day you realize that I’m able to take away everyone else’s pain and make them better but not yours, not you. The day you realize how unfair that is and how totally fucking shitty of me that is.” He lets a shuddery breath out.

“And so I watch this video like it’s going to give me answers.” He shakes his head a little as a few tears slip down his cheeks and he takes a breath in through his teeth. “It’s like I think if I can identify the exact moment you got shot somehow that’ll give me all the answers and I’ll know exactly what to do and how to take away your pain and make you all better so that this never hurts you again. I’ll know the perfect way to hug you and hold you and kiss you and how to look at you and know what you need to hear and then I’ll do it all and put all the pieces back together just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “so that you’re better and aren’t in pain.” More tears stream down his face. “Because that’s what I do. I take away pain, I make people better. But not for you. Not for the most important person, the only person who matters.”

Jack sniffles and wipes some of the tears off his face. “And I know it’s stupid, and it’s not how the world or healing or grieving or any of it works but I have to try. I have to try everything, just in case maybe the world and healing and grieving will work like that for this, and this will be the rarest outlier case that makes no sense but somehow is real.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” you murmur as you walk over to Jack, lean over him and run your hand down his chest, kiss at his neck. Jack leans his head in against yours, hands coming to clutch at your forearms. “It’s not stupid. It’s not stupid at all.” 

“I just hate it,” he whispers. He turns his head into yours more and you understand, turn yours to so you can kiss him, let him take whatever he wants and needs from you. “I hate that I can’t make this better and take away your pain. I hate seeing you hurt and being so useless and helpless. And I hate how I’m making it about myself.”

“I know you do. But you’re not making it about yourself. This happened to both of us,” you say against his lips. You let your hands run over his chest for a moment. It’s one of those moments where how much you love and adore and need him overwhelms you. You never thought you’d ever have anyone who would sit alone at night and watch a traumatizing video over and over for weeks just to try and figure out how to help you. And as much as you wish he hadn’t because you don’t want him hurting himself, the fact remains that he did and that means something. It means a whole lot.  

The feelings make you want to cry not from sadness but just from the overwhelm and a bit the frustration of knowing you’ll never be able to tell him how much you love him. “I love you so much. Come back to bed with me?”

“Okay. Love you too,” Jack whispers and nods before stealing one more kiss from you. He lets you lead him back to your room and into bed. You turn on your bedside lamp so that you can see each other better, both of you leaning against the headboard and turned towards each other a bit. You grab one of his hands and start to play with it. 

“It’s not stupid,” you repeat. “At all. It is sweet and loving and yeah, a little heartbreaking for me, but that’s okay. You are allowed to feel what you feel. And I am so glad that you told me, okay? Feeling how you do is valid and it makes so much sense to me.” You bring the hand you’re playing with up to your lips and kiss each of his third knuckles before looking back up at him, getting that true eye contact that he loves. 

“But, Jack, my love, you are not my doctor.” You say it so gently yet so firmly, like there’s no room for debate because there isn’t. And Jack knows that and that you’re right. “You need to remember that. You’re my partner. My fiancé. You’re not my doctor. I don’t expect you to be my doctor. You aren’t failing me. In any capacity. I promise you.”

Jack shrugs. “Still.” His fingers play with yours. “I’m a doctor. I make people better and I can’t make this better for you.” You nod at him, think on your feet and decide to run with it since he’s fixated on the idea right now and you know it’ll get through to him better.

“You are. You are a really really fucking good doctor Jack. One of the best. But you don’t send every patient home in perfect condition, completely pain free and fixed and all better, with no healing left to do or pain to experience do you?” You let it linger just a second to make the point. “No. You can only heal them so much sometimes. Probably most of the time because healing takes time and is more than what you as a doctor can do for anyone. People have to do some of the healing on their own. So you admit them to a service. Or you send them home with pain killers and discharge instructions,” you give him the smallest smirk at that which makes him huff a little and his lips twitch upward. “And you set them up with follow up appointments and sometimes you give them casts or braces or stitches or sterile dressings or crutches or a sling or whatever else.” You tilt your head at him. “You, Peter, are all of those things for me.”

Jack’s eyes water again a little bit at your statement, eyebrows furrowing inward and up a bit, asking if you mean it. You nod. 

“You say that you can’t take my pain away or make me better but you do Jack. You do. Just by being here. By showing up for me every day no matter how bad I am, how sad or how grumpy or how quiet or anxious or numb or whatever. Just by kissing my forehead in the morning and saying you love me as you walk out the door and filling up my drink when you get up and making sure some part of you is always touching some part of me when we’re sitting on the couch together. You’re always here. Even when you’re physically not. I know for a fact I could call you at work and say I needed you, fuck I wouldn’t even have to say it, you’d hear it in my voice as I said your name and you’d be on your way. I could call you anywhere and you’d show up. You know how much pain that kills? You know much better that makes me? Just to know I have you? Just to know you love me? To know I’ll never have to sit here alone in the grief and guilt and sadness? To know you’ll always sit here with me in it if that’s what I need? I don’t know where the fuck I’d be with all of this without you Jack.” You lean in and kiss his forehead, rest yours against his after a second. 

“You are not failing me. You are healing me, Jack. Helping me heal. Helping me get better. You take away my pain, even if some days it’s not completely. There’s some pain even the strongest drugs can’t get rid of completely. But you make it so that it’s always bearable and hold my hand and me while you do it.” You pull your head back, run your hand through those salt and pepper curls you love so much. “I know that you think you need to find the perfect thing to say or do to make me better and pain free from this forever, but we both know that’s not real life, just like I can’t find those perfect things to make you better or pain free from all of this forever. Every kiss and hug and smile and I love you and pat on the ass and cheeky boob squeeze when you walk by me in the kitchen or wherever and cuddle is perfect, and puts me back together a little tighter so that it hurts a little less. Yeah, there are some bad days where I feel like I’ve taken seven thousand steps backwards, but you know who the person taking those backwards steps with me and holding my hand and helping me take the first step forward again is?” You give him a soft smile with slightly crinkled eyes you can only hope reflect how much you love him. “You.” 

Jack reaches for you, pulls you up against him in a tight hug. He doesn’t really know what to say in the moment, feels like words have run out. “Thank you.” You can feel him shaking a little and it makes you squeeze him tighter, kiss at his chest wherever you can reach. 

“Any time. Always.” You know he wishes he could say more but that he can’t, not as he processes it all, especially with how exhausted he is. And you’re okay with it, more than. He doesn’t need to say anything as long as he heard you and tries to take what you said to heart. 

His hands slip under his shirt that you’re wearing just to seek out more of your skin, just to help ground himself a little further. You pull back a little and his hands are already moving to get the shirt off you and tossed to the floor. You settle back on his chest in a close hug. 

“I’m sorry for not saying anything. And for keeping the video from you. I know I should have talked to you about it, I just really wanted to find the answer on my own and I became convinced it was somewhere in that video.” Jack nuzzles his nose into the top of your hair. “I’m not saying that as an excuse either.” 

“I know you’re not. And I forgive you, to the extent there even really was anything to forgive. I understand Jack, I really do. But it’s going to be okay. We’re going to keep getting through this together.” You move your head from his chest to capture his lips in a couple of sweet kisses. “And now that trial is over we’re getting back to normal again and we’ve got France soon. What happened isn’t going to define our lives or our life together, Jack. We’re not going to let it. There’s just going to be hard moments.” There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence as you just hold each other. 

“Do you feel guilty? Because of what I told you? Like you’re somehow responsible?” Jack murmurs, keeping your faces close together, hands running up and down your back. 

“Honestly? A little.” You nod as you make the admission. “But I’m thinking about what we’ve learned in couple’s therapy and trying to use the things we’ve talked about and so it’s not so bad. Not like it would have been if we hadn’t started going. You feel guilty?”

Jack nods into your neck before kissing you there. “A little, yeah. Like you said though. Not like it would have been.” He slides his hand up your neck as he moves his head back, holds your face. “We’ll delete it tomorrow,” he nods. You nod back at him, bite the tip of his nose, making him fake scoff and shake his head. 

“Let’s go back to sleep?” You scratch at his scalp and Jack leans into it, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Mmm,” he hums, nodding and rolling you over so that you’re on your back. His hands find the waistband of his pajama pants. “There’s one more thing I think I’d like to do. You know. To make us both sleepy.”

You bite your lip and giggle as he starts taking his pajama pants off. “Oh yeah?”

Once the pants have joined the shirt on the floor Jack looms back over you, presses his body against yours, hips grinding against yours just enough to pull a little gasp from you when you feel him. He nods as he leans in and kisses you. “Yeah.”

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

It comes up fairly early on, while you and Jack are both still at home and chatting about wedding stuff one night. You’re on the couch with your head in Jack’s lap, attention split between the show you put on TV, listening to Jack think out loud while he does the crossword and scrolling Pinterest.

“Four words lead to this declaration.” Jack has the crossword on the armrest of the couch, his left hand intermittently resting gently on the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, or on your arm. He clicks his pen in thought. Because of course he does the crossword in pen. “Three letters. Nothing filled in.” You hum in acknowledgment at him, your way of saying you’ll think.

 “Pennsylvania recognizes self-uniting marriages. We could just marry ourselves,” you suggest.

“We could, yeah.” You turn your head and look up at Jack after he says it. There’s something on his mind. “Five letter word for blowhard.”

“Storm,” you both say at the same time, share a little laugh about it. You sit up and Jack makes a little noise of discontent. 

“I’m staying right here, don’t worry,” you tell him as you curl up next to him and wrap your arms around his left upper arm. “You don’t want that.” It’s half question half sentence. You’re trying to give him the space and opportunity to say what he’s thinking about who he’d like to marry you. 

“I, no. It’s not that I don’t want that or that I wouldn’t love that.” He shakes his head.

You give him a second. “But you’d prefer something else? Someone else?” An imperceptible nod. 

“It’s going to sound stupid.” 

“I sincerely doubt that.” You give him an encouraging smile.

Jack clicks his pen a couple of times before turning to really look at you. “I was thinking, what if we asked Robby? I know he’d have to do the whole getting ordained online thing, but…” Jack trails off for a second. “He just, before you, before I had you, Michael saved my life more than once. Metaphorically speaking. And he’s saved your life. Literally. And he’s my best friend and I don’t know. It just felt like maybe it was right.”

A slow smile pulls up on your face, all gooey and in love. “I think that feels perfect.”

“Really?” Jack raises his eyebrows at you. He’s not really shocked per se, it’s just one of those moments where it falls out of his mouth. 

“Really.” You nod. “I know how much he means to you. He means a lot to me too. You know the whole saving my life thing.” You lean in and give Jack a kiss on the cheek. 

“Okay,” Jack nods with you. “We’ll have to find a time to ask him, decide how I guess.”

“I have confidence that we will figure it out. We have time.” You squeeze Jack’s arm and then pull away, start to go back to the position you were in. 

“I do,” you say as you settle your head back on Jack’s lap.  

“A little premature, but I love to hear it.” Jack smirks at you as you look up at him. 

“The crossword clue.” You playfully roll your eyes at him. “Four words lead to this declaration. The answer is I do. The four special words are ‘will you marry me.’”

You end up deciding to do it at the Pitt one day. 

You considered planning it and asking to do dinner and make it a thing but that all felt a little too formal and almost pretentious. It didn’t fit. Doing it on the fly while he was working felt right. 

“Can we talk to you?” Jack asks Robby, you standing next to him holding his hand. Jack just finished his day shift at eleven thirty in the evening, had you come to the hospital around seven just in case he got off on time. You chilled in the break room the last four and half or so hours, chatting with people as they came and went. 

Robby looks between the two of you. “This feels ominous.” 

“Yes or no question Michael.” Jack deadpans. 

“Jack!” You chide him a little, but your smirk belies you.

“I’m sorry,” Jack mutters, “can we please talk to you?”

Robby rolls his eyes at Jack calling him by his real name. “Yes. I suppose you can.” 

“Thanks Robby!” You smile at him. 

Robby thinks it’s odd. You seem almost nervous and so does Jack, but Jack is harder to read at the moment. The shift he just finished was the last on his run and he didn’t get off within four hours of when he was supposed to a single one of those three shifts. Plus this shift was particularly trying. Between all of that and him still adjusting to being back he’s exhausted. It makes him even harder than usual to read.

“In here,” Jack nods, opens the door to the family room. 

“Okay, you guys are kind of freaking me out because this is ominous and now you’re taking me into a room where we tell family members their loved ones have died.” 

“It’s not bad, I promise.” You try to smile at him reassuringly. Robby nods at you like he doesn’t quite believe you as he sits down in one of the chairs, you and Jack taking the two across from him. 

“So.” You clear your throat. “Obviously you know we’re getting married.” You hold up your left hand and flash the ring at him, which pulls a little smile from Robby. 

“Robby,” Jack starts. But he stops. He looks emotional, like this is a hard conversation to have but not because it’s bad but because it means something. Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Michael,” he starts again, earning a slight eyebrow raise from Robby because of the tone, “we were wondering if you would consider getting ordained and officiating our wedding. If you, if you’d marry us?”

Robby’s head lolls forward a little and his eyes widen, brows raised as he looks at Jack and then you and then back at Jack and then away from you both as he leans back. “Wow,” he breathes out and laughs a little. “Holy fucking shit you guys! I thought you were bringing me in here to tell me one of you had some terrible illness.”

You and Jack laugh a little, your hand finding his and squeezing. 

But it’s then that your words really hit Robby. He looks back at the two of you. He’d deny it if anyone asked but his eyes are a little glassy. “You want me to marry you?” He has to clear his throat of some emotion. “Really?”

“Please,” you nod. 

“Seriously,” Jack says quietly. 

Robby still looks a bit stunned but a huge smile pulls onto his face. “I, fuck, wow, yes. Yes, of course. I would be honored.” He stands and you follow, let him pull you into a big hug. “You’re sure about this?”

“Of course.” You smile at him as he releases you. “Nobody else we’d rather have do it.” 

Jack stands up behind you and you step to the side, let the two embrace.

“Thanks brother,” he says quietly to Robby. 

“I mean it Jack. It’s an honor.” The two step apart and you lean into Jack, all three of you smiling at each other. 

You exit out of the room and walk by the lockers so Jack can grab his backpack and you guys can leave. You wait by the desk, chatting idly with Robby and Samira until Jack walks up behind you. 

“Ready Doll?” 

You can hear how tired the poor man is. It almost makes you feel a little bad about sharing the thought you just had. Almost. 

“You know, I just realized that everyone up on the altar will have seen my boobs!” Your lips turn up and turn into something between a grin and a smirk. 

You hear Jack take in a big breath and release it as a breathy, “Oh my god.” He just shakes his head and finds your hand with his, laces your fingers together. “Come on, you, we’re done here.” 

Jack starts walking towards the doors, tugging you along with him and you just giggle.

“Oh so you’re just leaving me here to explain that?” Robby calls after you. It just makes you giggle louder. 

“I’ll show you my tits if it’ll make you feel better, Fruitcake,” Myrna offers Robby from her wheelchair, suddenly right behind him, as she raises her eyebrows at him and goes for the hem of her shirt.

“Jesus!” Robby nearly jumps. “Where did you even come from? When did you get here? Stop lifting your shirt up!”

You turn around a little and look back over your shoulder and wave. “Bye! Thanks again Robby!” 

Beside you Jack lets out a tired and huffed laugh because he loves you so much. When you turn back around he slips his hand out of yours and winds his arm around you, making you do the same. Jack pulls you a little closer to him and presses a kiss to the top of your head as you walk out the doors. “I love you Doll.” 

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

“You okay?” Jack asks, squeezing your thigh and interrupting your thoughts.

It takes you a second but you look over at him. “How could I possibly be anything less than okay right now, Peter?”

“Hey,” he laughs quietly, “I was just checking. You seemed a little zoned out.” 

“I’m on a plane, in very nice seats, sitting next to my unreasonably handsome fiancé who I’m on my way to France with.” You set your hand on top of his and squeeze. “I was just thinking I’m glad this came after the trial.”

The trial finished about a month and a half ago, just long enough for you and Jack to heal from all the emotions it stirred up and settle back into your routine so that things were normal when you had Robby drop you at the airport earlier tonight. You had been concerned for a bit that the trial might shortly after your trip. Neither of you wanted that because then it would be all either of you were thinking about during the trip. 

“Me too.” Jack nods. “I’m ready for some time alone with you, truly alone and away from all the bullshit. I’m glad I decided we’d start with a couple of days in Nice. That was very smart of me.”

You giggle and roll your eyes at him. He’s right though, it was. “It’ll be very nice to have some time to just lay out on the beach and relax before making our way up the country.” You pull the armrest up and lean into Jack who wraps his arms around you. “I’m ready to nap on the beach with you under an umbrella.”

Jack yawns at the word nap. “Yeah I’m going to need a nap on the beach alright.” He’d booked you a red eye, leaving at almost midnight Pittsburgh time so that you get to Nice in the morning and can maximize your time in France. You both know the first day will be a lazy one though and you’re both more than okay with it. Napping on the beach together being an option and all.

“You should sleep,” you encourage him. 

“You should too.” He raises his eyebrows at you a little. 

“I don’t sleep well on planes.” You shrug. 

“Yeah, but you sleep well on me.” He cocks his head at you and gives you a bit of a lopsided smile. 

You laugh silently through your nose, shaking your head at him. “You’re pretty slick sometimes, you know that?” 

“I just speak the truth, Doll.” Jack pulls you a bit closer to him and grabs the traveling blanket you’d brought with you from the seatback pocket where he’d put it earlier. You help him spread it over the both of you and then snuggle into him as much as you can in airplane seats. Jack’s breathing evens out pretty quickly. It takes you quite a bit longer to find sleep, but once you do Jack is right. You sleep pretty well.

Nice is gorgeous and relaxing and so what you and Jack need, some lazy time together to focus on each other and nothing else. Your hotel is stunning and right on the beach giving you easy access to it. You’d spent your first day at the beach too given how tired you were and how nice it was to just lay in the sun together and relax. You’d walked around Nice your second day and picked up the car you’d be driving through the country in. You’d taken a little drive to Grasse, and looked around, gone to Fragonard and done the museum before you and Jack decided on a perfume for you and cologne for him.

And now you and Jack are spending your last day in Nice back at the beach all day. 

You’re both laying out on towels on the sand currently, your stuff on top of the shaded lounge chairs you’ve claimed. Jack’s wearing the beach leg he got so that he can be in the sand and sea. The softness and warmth of the sand is relaxing against your backs. If you and Jack weren’t intermittently talking you’d probably fall asleep. 

There can’t be much more than a foot between you and during a lull in conversation Jack blindly feels for your hand. He plays with your fingers once he finds it. You sit up and take a moment to admire him.

“France looks good on you, Dr. Abbot.” Your eyes trail up and down his body appreciatively. With the time you’ve spent out in the sun Jack is unfairly tanned, skin glowing. It makes his freckles pop even more which is something that drives you insane. You’d really noticed it yesterday when the two of you showered together.

You dragged him out of the shower quickly and to bed so that you could try to kiss and count each one while telling him how hot and gorgeous he is, how unfairly so and that you can’t believe he’s given himself to you, that you’re the one that gets to see him like this and have him. You’d spent the rest of the night loving on him.

And apparently you’re not ready to be done. 

“Oh yeah?” He turns and smirks a little at you. 

“Yeah.” You lay back and roll on your side, put your elbow in the sand and rest your head in your hand.

“I love your hair like this.” You run your free hand through it. He didn’t get a chance to get it cut before you left. It honestly can’t be more than a centimeter longer, but it’s just enough to show off his curls a little more, especially when they’ve dried from the sea’s salty water. “Just a little longer. Gives me a little more curl to enjoy.” You hum for a second. “To pull on.” 

“Really?” Jack’s basking in your attention and love

You pull your eyes from his hair down to his face. “Yeah, really,” you nod. 

“You want me to keep it this length always?”

“Would I like that? Absofuckinglutely. But it’s your hair. And I love it shorter too, like when we met. So you should keep it how you like it.” You scratch at his scalp a little. “I will love my salt and pepper curls no matter their length.” 

“Yours?” Jack raises his brows and gives you a teasing grin.

“Mhm.” You nod. “Mine.” You roll a little more and lean your head towards him. “Just like these are also mine.” You kiss at the freckles on his shoulder and chest, PG enough for the beach but with enough of a lingering edge and a nip to make him feel it in his groin.   

“Yeah?”

“And so is this.” You drag your nails down his happy trail, stopping just short of his cock. Obviously you couldn’t rub it here to make your point as much as you’d have liked to.

Jack lets out a harsh breath through his nose. “Careful, Doll.” He can feel himself starting to get hard. 

“What?” It’s all fake innocence and pout. “All of you is mine. Isn’t it? Just like all of me is yours?”

“Of course.”

“So let me have you tonight. Let me appreciate what’s mine, focus on you.” You grab one of his hands and bring it to your mouth, kiss at his fingertips. You give the tips of his ring and middle fingers the quickest kitten lick. “Because your face twisted in pleasure, and the groans I pull from you, and the way you say my name and look when you come are also all mine.”

Jack has to sit up and bend his knees at that. His heart is beating much faster now, lust and need coursing through his veins. He’s hard and that’s a problem in these swim trunks. 

You follow him, sitting up and leaning back on your hands. “Unless you wanna go back to the hotel room now?”

“Yes,” he breathes, a frustrated edge to it. 

You smirk. “Let’s go.” 

“We have to wait a minute.” 

“Oh?” You raise a single brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Jack huffs. “You know exactly fucking why.”

“I swear, I have no idea what you mean,” you’re giving him your most innocent doe eyes, the subtlest hint of a smirk at the corners of your mouth, “Dr. Abbot.” 

Jack’s jaw clenches hard, eyes searing into you. “Get up.” 

You do as he asks, start to collect your things. Your movements are hurried, you’re just as desperate as him, swimsuit sticky already with how wet you are for him. 

You go to grab your towel but Jack stops you. “Yeah, yeah, I got the towels, thank you very much.” You furrow your brows together for a second in genuine confusion before Jack stands up and quickly drapes your towel over the arm he’s holding against his lower abdomen and grabs his and does the same so that the towels hang down and cover what would otherwise be his very obvious erection. 

“Oh dear,” you tut, finally letting a self-satisfied grin pull on your face. “That’s why we needed to wait?” 

“Go.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He tries to stay stoic but you don’t miss the way he clenches his jaw again and rolls it, how he shifts on his feet just slightly. You widen your smile and kiss his cheek before throwing the last few things in your bag and taking his hand. 

You giggle as you walk back. With how much bigger Jack’s steps are than yours and how fast his desperation for you is driving him to walk you’re almost having to jog a little to keep up with him. 

Once you’re back in the hotel room and have literally just dropped all of your shit and the towels and get to the side of the bed you try to push Jack back onto it but he doesn’t let you, uses your motion to push you back onto the bed. 

You whine and try to get up. “No. You can have me tonight like you said.” Jack’s hand comes to your chest and pushes you back down.

“Jack!” You whine. But you can feel your heartbeat in your clit, have to rub your thighs together a little, which doesn’t escape Jack’s notice.

“You really thought you were going to get me painfully hard in public and call me Dr. Abbott and sir and get away with it?” Large, strong and dizzyingly warm hands make quick work of your swimsuit and toss it aside.

“I thought you’d let me focus on you.” You push your lips out in a little pout.  

Jack leans over you, caging your head in between his arms. He ghosts his lips over yours. “You thought wrong.”

He pulls up and starts taking off his swim trunks. You make a high-pitched noise of protest as he gets off you. “Not even a kiss! You won’t let me have you like I want and you won’t even kiss me when you were right th-”  

“Stop talking.” It’s firm. He’s hit order territory. It makes you shiver. You like it when he gets like this. This edgy kind of dominant that’s distinct from other times he’s dominant. Just a little rough at the right moments. Manhandling you however he wants. Using you for his pleasure. 

You could reply in one of two ways, both of which would rile him further, just in different ways. But right now the choice is clear. 

That makes you smirk and arch a single brow at him. Jack already knows what you’re about to say. “Make me.”

Jack hums a dark laugh and smiles at you. “With pleasure Doll.”

You’re a little confused when he walks around to the foot of the bed and grabs under your arms and yanks you further onto the bed. The suddenness of it makes you shriek a little. “Jack!”

He moves your lower body so your legs are out in front of you comfortably facing the head of the bed and then pulls you down further so that your head is hanging off the bed. Jack’s a little rough shoving his fingers in your mouth to open it and get them wet. You know what’s coming when he pulls them out. 

Jack lets out a slightly strangled sigh of relief at the feeling of your mouth around him. “There we go, hm, Doll?” He leans over you, shoving himself further into your mouth but not too far, he controls the angle of his hips. You realize he didn’t just move like that for himself when the two fingers wet with your saliva come to circle your clit and slide down, tease your entrance. You already know he’s going to edge you like this. 

You swallow your whine when he pulls his hand away and then are choking around him from the shock and pleasure when his hand comes down to smack your clit. “Look I’m even being so nice,” Jack coos at you, “giving you what you wanted. Because this is what you wanted right? To be choking on me?”

Jack pulls out of your mouth so you can answer. You take a couple of breaths before you do, mostly to prepare yourself. “I don’t know. Is it?” 

“Hm,” Jack laughs again, smacks your clit before pinching at it, pulling another little shriek from you and a moan of pleasure that he can see you fighting to keep down. He likes when you make him work for it. “Be careful what you wish for, Doll.”

After dinner that night, which you were actually a little surprised you were able to walk to, Jack does let you have like you talked about on the beach. He’s a man of his word and it’s quite the opposite of a hardship.

The next day you guys hop in the car and start driving. You hit Arles and then go up to Avignon to look around, spend the night there and go walk through the city to find a cute café to have breakfast at. 

From there you head to Nîmes, and then on to Carcassonne. You spend the later part of the day looking around the town before heading to the hotel you’re staying at. Carcassonne leads you up to Rocamadour. 

All of France is beautiful, but there’s something about the way the town is literally built into the side of a stone cliff that really stuns you both. It’s just so incredible and makes you feel so small in a way for some reason. It’s hard to comprehend the reality of it. 

“I could spend so much money here,” you whisper to Jack. The two of you are browsing in the most incredible leather store you’ve ever been in, and probably your favorite shop of the trip so far.

Jack stops walking and flicks his head a little, staring at a spot on a table a bit down from you before looking down at all of the things he’s carrying in leather bags you’re getting. “I think you are spending so much money here, Doll.” 

He doesn’t mean it in a bad way, isn’t complaining about it at all. He’d buy you the whole store if it would make you happy and he feasibly could. He’s happy to spoil you, though he’s well aware there’s going to be a fight when you go to checkout about who’s paying. 

You look back at him and stick your tongue out a little at him. He rolls his eyes at you and does it back as you walk over to him and show him a little cosmetics bag you’ve picked up before adding it to one of the bags he’s holding. Jack nods at it appreciatively. “It’s not all for me.” That’s true. You’re getting quite a few gifts here for all the people in your lives. “The leather is just so beautiful and well priced.”

“It is.” Jack picks up a nice leather wallet and looks it over. “And not everything we’ve got here is something you picked out, I’ve added my own stuff.” 

“What?” You look up at him with mock offense. Jack’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head, bunching his shoulders up. “And you haven’t been showing me?”

Jack looks at you for a second. “No?” You give a little scoff, but it’s teasing. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to?”

“Well, you are,” you say matter of factly. “So show me.” You nod when he doesn’t move, smiling at him. You’re adorable when you’re this excited. “I want to see! I like seeing! That’s half the fun of shopping!” 

“Okay! Okay! Give me a minute to dig it all out!” Jack laughs a little, shaking his head at you. A wave of love and adoration for you crashes into him and he gets a little overwhelmed by it as he goes through the bags to pick out what he’s put in. He just loves you so fucking much. He shows you and you love all of them, take another spin through the whole store before checking out. 

You leave Rocamadour then and head to Lascaux II. You’re particularly excited for this one. You’re in awe the second you get down into the replica cave. Jack almost wants to record you in Lascaux II because of how fucking precious and cute you’re being and how completely fucking oblivious to it and how it’s affecting him you are. 

“This is so incredible,” you say for probably the tenth time. “Look at this Jack. I couldn’t do this now. Imagine them doing it 20,000 years ago. That’s just… I don’t even know. It’s making me bizarrely emotional.” 

“Aw, baby.” Jack breathes through a little laugh, pulls you close to him. He gives you a little squeeze and kisses your forehead before you step away to go back to chatting with your tour guide as everyone looks around this room. He knows it defeats the purpose of the visit for him and that you’d lovingly chide him if you knew, but Jack doesn’t care and spends more time smiling and watching you take it all in and chatter away with the guide than he does looking at the cave paintings. He never wants to leave.

The tour, however, does come to an end and you look around everything else and the gift shop and leave Lascaux, head to Limoges to spend the night and tour tomorrow. From there you tour Château de Chambord and then Amboise, where you go wine tasting and get quite tipsy together before making your way back to your hotel room with the both of you in a fit of giggles.

In the morning, you and Jack leave Amboise and drive to Ohama Beach and the Normandy American Cemetery.  It’s not sad as such, just kind of somber, which makes sense. 

You and Jack walk through the rows silently, hand in hand with Jack reading name after name. It gets to him a little. Makes him feel kind of bad. Here he is all the way in France on vacation doing this and thinking about people he doesn’t even know. He lives less than four hours from Arlington and hasn’t been back since the last funeral. 

He thinks about the rest of his unit, the ones still alive. They’d all moved across the States, settled different places where they or their spouses had family or just wanted to live. They kept in touch though, texts and calls. He went to a couple of weddings, knows each time someone welcomes a baby. All but one are coming to the wedding and the only reason he’s not is because his wife is due only two weeks later. 

He’s told you some about them. He realizes in the moment though that he’s told you more about what happened when he lost his leg. You know pretty much everything, everything he can remember at least. It took him a while to open up about it, not even so much because it was hard to talk about, talking to you about it was actually not easy but not as hard as he thought it would be because he knew you had him and would really be listening and there for him if he fell while talking. It was more he struggled with the idea of you having to know, having to carry it around similar to how he does, less so obviously but still. He didn’t want that for you, felt it was like a burden almost, a cross to bear with him. But he’d spoken with his therapist about it and been able to see it wasn’t.

“You know if you ever want to take a trip to Arlington I’m there with you, yeah? You don’t have to go alone unless you want to.” You squeeze his hand.

Jack smiles to himself and nods. You would know what he’s thinking about right now. “I know.”  He squeezes back. You don’t say anything else, know that you don’t need to. 

You end up getting sandwiches from a little café and have lunch sitting on a wall overlooking the beach. Jack shares some stories about his time overseas and on base here, most of them funny and making the both of you laugh. “Have I ever shown you pictures?”

“A couple, yeah. From weddings after or photos of new babies or pregnancy announcements.” You give him a small smile and tilt your head. “You don’t have to show me or tell me anything, you know?”

“I want to,” he nods as he pulls his phone out. It takes him a minute to find them, but when he does he scrolls through them and tells you the context, points out who everyone is. Tells you who was lost, little things about others, where they are, if they’re still in. 

One he shows you is old, from when he first joined. “Oh my god, you’re a baby!” You take his phone from his hand as he laughs. “Look at you! How old were you here?” You look up at him. Jack tells you and you look back down at the phone. “Wow,” you breathe, “do you have more of you younger?”

“Yeah.” He takes his phone back from you and scrolls. He’s a little bit older in these ones. “Right before I deployed on my first tour.” He swipes. “This was taken the day we arrived over there.” 

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile. You know it’s maybe not appropriate in a way, but you only do so because of how young he looks. You’ve never really seen him this young before. It’s always been much younger, baby photos, middle school, high school graduation. 

Jack bumps your shoulder with his. “You got any of you this age?”

You grimace at that and shake your head. “I mean, yeah, but you don’t want to see them, trust me.”

Jack barks a laugh at that. “I trust you on everything Doll, but not that.”

You deepen your grimace as you look at him. “You should.” 

He shrugs. “Prove it then.” 

You groan at the challenge. “Fine,” you mutter, “but I expect a ‘you’re right I’m so sorry for doubting you’ and you take my ‘I told you so’ without comment or a look.”

Jack’s giving you a look already because he knows you’re full of shit and he’s going to love them. “If that’s warranted then I promise I will. But I know it won’t be.” 

You drive into Paris in the late afternoon early evening, get checked into your hotel. Jack did good. Jack did real fucking good. Your room has a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower and a big jacuzzi tub. It’s just large enough but is still small enough that it’s cozy and romantic. You look around with big eyes and a look of disbelief.

“Jack, this is so beautiful.” You open the balcony door and walk out onto it. You’re almost a little speechless. Not even from how beautiful the room is and the view and the tub but from the fact that he chose this hotel and this suite for you. Because you know the only thing he was thinking of when he booked it was that he wanted to spoil you and make you happy and see you smile. “It’s incredible.” You murmur it but you know he’ll hear because you can feel that he’s standing right behind you even if the noise of the city covered his footsteps. You recognize his presence.

Jack’s hands find your hips and his chest presses into your back as he kisses the top of your head. “I didn’t order the champagne.” There’s a very nice bottle sitting in a bucket of ice for you, two flutes on the table it’s next to. 

You turn, shaking your head at him. Jack’s hands opening and settling back on your hips once you’ve turned all the way. “That’s not what makes it incredible.” 

Jack gives you a little knowing smile and nods. “Anything for you, Doll.” 

You lean up and kiss him, again and again until you’ve managed to maneuver the two of you so that Jack’s pressed against the balcony wall as you makeout. “You know this is very unfair,” you whisper against his lips when you break apart for air. Jack flicks his eyebrows up at you. “You get to plan the honeymoon too. When is it my turn to plan a vacation and spoil you?”

Jack laughs softly, catches your lips in another kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth for a second. “You can have the next one, okay? After the honeymoon.”

“Okay, good.” You kiss until you’re breathless again and then pull apart. 

“What would you like to do before the Tower and river cruise tonight?” Jack asks you with a little tilt of his head. “Champagne and a little moment on the balcony?”

“I’d like to start,” you take a step back so that he can walk past you and into the room, “with you getting on the bed. Fully clothed.” 

He cocks his head further. “You don’t have to do anything to thank me. I wanted to do this for you. Wanted to see the smile you gave me when you walked in and looked around.”

“I know I don’t,” you reassure him with a nod. “But I want to. I want to suck your cock for you and see the smile you give me right after you’ve come.” Hands squeeze your hips a little harder. “So please. Get on the bed.” 

Jack looks at you for a moment, genuinely wanting to make sure you know you don’t have to and he didn’t do this so that you’d take him in your mouth once you’d seen the room. When your eyes and expression convince him he nods and does as you ask.

Once Jack’s finished and recovered you decide to head out and walk around, just soak in the City some before you go to your reservations at the Eiffel Tower. 

Jack thinks he could live here and spend every day for the rest of life watching you and the look of wonder as you lead him through Paris. 

You and Jack share champagne on the top of the Eiffel Tower before you find a cute Seine side café for dinner. At 10:30 you board the boat that will take you up and down the Seine letting you see lots of the sights uplight and bathed in different shades of light. They of course pause down by the tower just before 11 and once it hits the Eiffel Tower sparkles and your face lights up exactly how Jack knew it would. He snaps several photos of you, the angle perfect and letting him get your profile and the tower in the same shot before he gets your whole face so he never has to even imagine this look again. His favorite is the one he gets when you turn to him beaming to thank him for this because of the expression on your face and how happy you are and how you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing on the planet that matters to you. 

It’s his phone’s wallpaper before you even disembark. 

The next morning you start with Notre Dame and Sainte-Chapelle before heading to the Louvre. 

“I think it’s this room.” Jack nods towards one. 

You take a cursory glance at it and keep walking. “It’s not. It must be further up.” 

“You didn’t even look!” Jack catches back up with you in two strides. 

“I promise you that when we get to the room you won’t need to ask if it’s the room.” You look up at him and try to give him a convincing smile. He narrows his eyes at you but nods. 

You guys walk up a bit more and come to another doorway off the side of the hallway. 

“Ah,” Jack clicks his tongue. “I understand now.” You share a look with him but don’t say ‘I told you so’ or even give him that specific look. 

You only have to glance at the room to know it’s the one housing the Mona Lisa. The huge mass of people making it difficult to even get through the doorway makes it quite obvious. You and Jack slip in and stay off to the side. You manage to get a good opening and are able to work your way in a little bit to see it before you quickly get out of the room, overwhelmed and done with all the people. 

“It’s smaller than I thought,” Jack comments as you walk down the hall a bit away from the room. 

You stop walking and look up stoically at the wall in front of you before looking at him as he keeps walking for a minute before realizing you’re not next to him and spinning. “Doll?”

“If only you had someone who told you that it was going to be smaller than you thought before you even stepped foot into the country.” You tilt your head at him. You’re not mad or annoyed, just playfully teasing him. The smirk pulls up on Jack’s face just a little too quick. He said it to fuck with you. “You asshole,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head as you walk ahead again. 

Jack chuckles as he catches up with you. “Sorry, Doll, I couldn’t resist.”

You shake your head, have to laugh with him for a second. “It’s not even you doing it, it’s the fact that it fucking worked on me.”

“I can be very convincing.” Jack laces his hand with yours and squeezes. 

You slow to look at a painting but look at Jack first. He’s already looking down at you, smiling, shoulders tensed just slightly in a way that tells you he’s about to lean down and kiss you. “Yes you can, Dr. Abbot.”

That earns you a little twitch under his eye before he leans in and kisses you. 

You spend the next day at Versailles. “Golf carts?” You furrow your eyebrows but smile. 

Jack lets out a bitten back laugh. “You know it doesn’t scream Jardins du Château de Versailles, but with how big the gardens are I get it.” He looks around. “They have a little train too.”

You and Jack have finished touring the palace proper and have walked out to see the gardens and trianons. You shake your head. “Oh no. No, no. We are so renting a golf cart.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grabs your hand and starts walking towards the booth you rent them from. “I knew the second you said golf carts.”

“Are you saying I’m predictable?” You bring your other hand across you to poke the side of his tummy. “Ow!” It doesn’t even hurt, it was just more unexpected. “I’m not saying that at all, believe me, Doll, you never fail to keep me guessing. I’m saying that wanting to rent a golf cart to drive through the gardens of Versailles is so you that it’s like they decided to do it just for you.”

You smile a little at that. You like knowing you keep him guessing but that he thinks things are very you at times. “I’m driving.”

Jack nods. “Knew that too.”

The day after Versailles you do more of Paris. You’re walking around the Palais Garnier headed towards the gift shop, your tour of the opera house having just finished. 

“We could do a Phantom of the Opera roleplay.” 

Jack breathes out a laugh that makes it clear how much that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. “We could do a Phantom of the Opera roleplay,” he mutters, shaking his headband bowing his chin to his chest for a second. He looks back at you. “We could, yes.”

“It would be very hot.” 

Jack laughs. “Any roleplay would be very hot with you, Doll.” You’re both keeping your voices low enough for only the two of you to hear. 

You stop walking and smirk at that. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack emphasizes the word as he nods. 

“You’ve thought about it before?” you simper, resuming walking. 

“You haven’t?” Jack shoots back with a smirk of his own.  “What have you thought about?” You need to know now, need to know if they match your own fantasies and if you could taxi back to the hotel right now and act one out, tour of the Catacombs be damned. 

“We can talk about it at dinner. Or after dinner.” He squeezes your hand and keeps walking you both towards the gift shop. 

“Or we can talk about it now.” 

Jack knows this is a battle he’ll lose and he’s honestly okay with that. “Can we at least do the gift shop and then grab some food and talk while eating? I’m hungry.” 

“Yes. I can live with that, but can’t live with you being hungry.” You let go of his hand as you walk in the gift shop so that you can look at things. “I’ll be speedy.” 

The rest of your trip passes too quickly for either of your liking. Before you know it you’re walking into your hotel room for the last time. You’re back a little earlier than usual but you’d decided to come back after dinner to spend the night together in your room and in the tub and on the balcony just focusing on each other. Neither of you are looking forward to having to go back to work. Back to being apart. It’s going to be hard going from being together 24/7 to only having mornings and nights except for the weekends if Jack has it off. 

You’re both ignoring it, don’t want it ruining your last night here. There will be plenty of time to be sad about it tomorrow at the airport and on the plane. 

You order a bottle of wine and bring it to the tub with you, sit and soak across from each other while giving each other foot massages and talking about your favorite parts of your trip. 

“This isn’t a very fair deal, you know.” You can hear the teasing in his voice. 

“I can’t help that my hands are smaller and not as strong as yours! I’m doing my best!” 

Jack laughs. “That’s not what I meant, you give the best massages.” You raise your eyebrows at him and shake your head to ask what then. One of Jack’s hands falls from your foot to find the other one underwater. “This,” he pulls it up and puts it next to your other foot, toes sticking out of the water a bit, “is what I meant.” 

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes at him and flick some water at him. “You are so full of shit, Jack Abbot. You know for a fact that once you’re done with my other foot I’m going to get closer to you and massage your leg. If anything, it’s nice for you because my hands get a break and aren’t as tired so I can go longer.”

You’re correct. Jack does know that for a fact, he just likes to fuck with you sometimes. “Did you just flick water at me?”

Your head shrinks back a little at the question because it is not what you were expecting. You let out a laugh. “And what if I did?”

Jack tightens his lips together and nods his head at you once quickly. “Then I would have to do something about that.” You stare at each other for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you try and figure out what his move would be.

“Don’t.” You try to stay serious but laugh a little. “You will send water everywhere.” You know he isn’t just going to flick water back at you or even send a wave at you. The playful look in his eye tells you that he’s going to lunge for you which will force the water forward with him and out of the tub just so he can grab you and pull you close to him. 

Jack’s smile widens. “We have lots of towels.”

“Jack.” You try so hard to stay serious but his adorable goofy grin makes it nigh on impossible. “I don’t want to spend our last night in Paris mopping up the bathroom floor.” 

“You should have thought of that before you flicked water at me.” He shrugs.

You scoff in shock and gape at him. “How was I supposed to know your reaction to a small flick of water was going to be to want to attack me at the opposite end of the tub and make a fucking tsunami in the procecss?”

“That’s just a risk you take with me Doll.” Jack clicks his tongue and shakes his head with mock solemnity. 

You stare at him. He’s going to do it. “You’re cleaning it up.” 

“You’ll help.” Jack smirks. 

You both know he’s right. “Fuck you.”

That makes Jack grin at you and lunge.

You find yourselves sitting on the balcony now. You’re dry from the tub and wrapped in the big fluffy towel robes the hotel has. Jack had at least managed to angle his lunge so that most of the water was pushed toward the tile wall behind the tub and not on the floor. It hadn’t taken long to mop up with towels. 

It’s getting later, closer to time to go to bed. As much as you’d done a good job of ignoring the reality that your trip was ending, it’s harder to now, and some of that sadness is in the air. It grows a bit with the small lull in conversation. 

Jack glances down at his watch. He leans back in his chair a little, appreciating how deep the seat is. He stands and moves his chair so that it’s just inside the balcony door. It’s a good height, his feet are flat on the ground when he sits in it. He grabs the small table and drags it to be what he estimates is the right distance from the chair.  “Peter?” Your heavy confusion is evident in your voice. 

Jack sits back in his chair and beckons you. “Come here, sit on my lap.” You’re never going to turn that down, so you do without really thinking about it. But before you can sit, “Robe off. I want to feel you. You can put it over you like a blanket.” It makes you pause for a second but Jack opens his robe so that it won’t obstruct your skin from touching and so you do as he asks, then sit. “Good girl.” It’s whispered low and right at your ear. 

He adjusts you so that your back is against his chest as you pull the robe over your like a blanket as he suggested even though you’re back in the privacy of your room. Your feet instinctively find the edge of the table to rest on and help you balance since you can’t reach the floor like this. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, slips his arms from his robe and wraps them around you under yours. 

You swallow hard. “I love you too,” you whisper. 

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, Jack holding you on his lap and you resting your head back against his chest. Jack slips a hand down to your thigh and squeezes to get your attention. “Spread your legs.” 

Your heart rate picks up just at his words. “Why?” 

You ask the question but do as he says while you do. “Good,” he praises you again. The hand that had squeezed your thighs dips between your legs. “So I can do this.” His finger circles your clit once and then slides down. He smiles at how wet you are. “Always so ready for me,” Jack murmurs against your ear.

“Jack,” you breathe out his name, hand wrapping around his wrist, not to stop him but to anchor yourself. You can feel him growing hard behind you and you grind into him a little. 

It makes him grunt a “Fuck.” Jack’s other hand slides up and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing at it before rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger at the same time he slips a finger inside you. 

“Oh,” you moan. “More! Please,” you pant. He’s quick to listen to you and slip another finger inside of you with how wet you already are. 

Jack’s breathing harder too, cock fully hard and aching with each wiggle of your ass as he makes you squirm. “Is that enough?” You shake your head against him, try to roll your hips in time with his fingers drawing in and out of you as they curl perfectly so that he’ll slide even deeper. “That’s not an answer.” 

“No!” The word shakes as you cry it, Jack’s hands already winding you tight. 

“Another one?” Jack slides another finger into on this pass and you keen for him, wiggling so much he groans from the stimulation and how it’s not enough. Once you settle again he resumes, works his fingers in and out of you, spreading them inside you sometimes. You’re letting out the softest high pitched moans with each breath you pant out. “This is enough?”

“No,” you shake your head hard. “No, no, I need your cock. Now. Please. I’ll be so good,” you start to babble just a little, “so good for you.”

“You already are being good for me.” His hand stills with his fingers buried in you. “My sweet good girl.” Jack lets out a harsh grunt at how tight your cunt squeezes his fingers at that. “How could I ever say no to you?”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth to suck clean. “You taste so fucking good,” he almost growls. “Makes me want to get you on the bed and just eat you out all night instead.”

You whine at that, torn between the thought of his tongue and his cock as grind yourself back against him. You shake your head. “Need you. Need your cock, please Jack. Tongue later if you want, later.” Jack laughs softly at your conflict and then the desperation with which you ask for his cock. “Cock first Jack, please.”

“Shh,” he soothes you, using one arm to lift you up a little and adjust you into a position that will work to get him inside of you. “I’ve got you Doll. I’ve always got you.” Jack shifts a little. “Help me, yeah?”

Your hand is there almost immediately to help guide him inside of you. “Fuck Jack, fuck fuck fuck.” Every word is moaned out as Jack moves his arm and helps you lower yourself onto him. 

The groan Jack lets out once he’s bottomed out in this position is strangled and almost pained. “You are so fucking tight like this Doll,” he’s panting hard now and he hasn’t even started to actually fuck you, “holy fuck.”

“I know,” you whimper, shaking a little from the pleasure already. “You feel even bigger, I feel you everywhere.” 

Jack starts to thrust up into you. With the angle there’s not a ton of movement but there’s just enough for his head to rub that spot inside you over and over and over again with every thrust. Your robe eventually falls off but neither of you give the slightest fuck, you’re in the room anyway and plenty warm. 

Your hands cling to him, one at the side of this thigh and the other at the upper part of the arm he has diagonal across your chest and tummy, fingertips ghosting teasingly over your collarbone and making you shudder, every so often running along the bottom of your jawline. 

Both of you are already panting and struggling to form coherent sentences, when the top of the hour hits and the Eiffel Tower starts sparkling. 

“Oh,” your panted breath catches in your throat. 

“Thought you might like that,” Jack grunts out as he keeps fucking you. He slows a little though, wants to draw it out. 

Jack’s hand slips under the back of your neck and he shifts you to the side a bit so he can see your face better and you his. It’s now his breath that hitches as he takes in you in, eyes roaming your face and chest, greedy and unabashed. The glittering light falling all over your face makes you look unreal, ethereal and divine and how on earth are you his? “Gorgeous,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “You’ll never fucking- fuck” Jack throws his head back for a second as a heavy wave of pleasure rushes through him at the way you clench even tighter at his words before looking back down at you, eyes burning into you hotter than they ever have before, “you’ll never fucking know how perfect you are to me.” 

Coupled with the way he’s looking at you as he says them, Jack’s words fully steal your breath for a moment as you stare back at him, go beyond making it harder to breathe. You have never felt more loved or more beautiful than you do right now. And you know that Jack isn’t just saying it solely because he’s in the throes of passion and that he’s not just talking about your looks. He means it all of the time, he thinks it all of the time. You’re always perfect to him, in every way. 

“Breathe for me baby,” Jack coos at you through a panted breath out. 

The reminder has you taking a shuddery gasp of air in. “Jack, I, I.” You shake your head a little as pressure builds behind your eyes, tears starting to form. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, there’s no real words, just Jack. He nods at you to soothe you and tell you he knows.

It almost feels silly or cliché somehow but there’s something about the sparkling lights that almost makes it more intimate. His eyes look beautiful like this, the flicker of the light showing off every color in them. The constantly moving shadows on his face highlight every feature, highlight just how handsome he is, especially like this, flushed and panting and sweaty. He’s breathtaking. He’s yours. Body, mind and soul. This man has given you all of him, keeps giving it every day. 

You somehow get your voice steady enough to whisper to him. “You’re beautiful, Jack.” 

His hips stutter at the compliment. Jack’s not sure he’s ever been called beautiful before. There’s a little shake of his head that you catch as the Tower stops sparkling. He’s not disagreeing with you, he’s trying to explain he doesn’t know what to say. 

“S’okay, you don’t have to-” You’re cut off by a gasp as Jack’s hips shift. “Oh Jack!” you mewl, “Jack, Jack, Jack. Don’t stop, please don’t, please.” Your reaction tells him he’s found the perfect stroke and so he keeps it. Doesn’t stop or slow down or speed up, just keeps it and revels in the way one of your hands finds his hair and tugs, the other clawing and surely bruising his thigh just above his knee. “You don’t h-have to say anything,” you finally choke out as tears of pleasure hit your eyes, “just know you are.”  

Jack holds your eye contact, always does whenever possible. You watch as they grow glassier with every stroke. You talk to each other through looks, thank you and I love you and I can’t believe you’re mine and what did I do to deserve you and you feel so fucking good. 

Jack finally breaks the silence with a low “I love you,” like he hasn’t been telling you how much he loves you with his body and eyes this entire time. 

“Love you too,” you breathe on a pant out, “love you so much. Please, Jack.”

Jack’s hand finds your clit, starts working you perfectly. He has you memorized and you know it. There’s no lead up, no working his way into the touch you need to come. He’s just there with that touch immediately. Because he needs you to come.

“Fuck Jack!” you moan, jolting at his touch and how direct it is, how he’s so desperate there’s no lead up. “I’m gonna come.”

“I know,” he pants. “Come for me.” With how tight you are Jack knows that seconds after you come he’s going to follow. “Please Doll.” Jack can feel how close you are, rubs at your clit just a little faster as his hips get sloppy. “Need it, Doll. Fuckin need it. Make me come, please.” They’re all choked out and broken with how out of his mind on you he is. He keeps winding you tighter, so tight you still and go silent, become convinced your muscles are going to break all your bones with how deep the pleasure has you clenching them. “Please. Love you so m-much. Need it sweet girl, please.” The last please is cracked and pure desperation. Jack rarely begs but he is right now. 

It shatters you. 

Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and searing every nerve in your body with unbridled bliss. It’s dizzying, has you clawing at Jack and tugging his hair even harder as you struggle to breathe through it, tears finally sliding down your face as you sob a little, almost unaware of how Jack’s name drips off your tongue so fast they slur together. 

Jack is mere seconds behind you, coming with a broken shout of your name. He shakes from the ecstasy of it, from how fucking good you make him feel, wave after wave of pleasure making him breathless as he struggles to cope with the rapture. “Doll,” he groans, over and over, “fuck, you’re so good,” his words are strangled, caught in his throat and forced out because he needs you to hear them, “feels so good, love you, love your pussy, fuck.” 

Jack is completely pussy drunk as he fucks you both through the crest, doesn’t still his hips or his fingers on your clit. He drags it out of you, never wants it to stop for either of you, never wants to leave this moment.  

But once he feels it ebbing for you he moves his fingers off your clit, leans over you to reach your lips and kiss you. It’s sloppy and breathy and there are moments where he can barely kiss you back with how overrun with pleasure he is. You keep sighing his name, keep whimpering it as tears keep slipping down your face. 

His hips keep thrusting as he works himself through it, sloppy and even less movement hunched over you to kiss you but it doesn’t matter. It and how tight you are and how you’re fluttering around him as you try to come back down is enough to drag it out of him and keep him coming. 

“Are you?” you breathlessly giggle at him.

“Yes, fuck!” Jack hisses. “You’re too good, pussy’s too good I can’t,” he pants, almost sounds pained by the pleasure, “stop.” 

You deliberately clench at his words and it pulls another groan from Jack, pulls a little more cum from him, and a grunted “Fucking shit!” as he stills his hips but pushes up to grind against you a bit.

Jack stops grinding after a few seconds because it becomes too much, rests his forehead against yours as you both shiver with aftershocks for a few minutes. Eventually he brings his head up and rests it against the back of the chair with his eyes closed as he pants and readjusts you, both of you hissing at the movement of him inside you as he does. He wraps his arms around you tighter, and you exchange murmurs of sweet nothings as you both attempt to come back to earth.  

“Oh fuck,” Jack pants after a few minutes, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking unreal.”

You giggle at him. “Mm, I’m very real, Peter.” It’s a little slurred. 

He just hums at you, words still hard. You sit like that for another couple of minutes, Jack’s hands starting to rub and down you as your fingers draw soft circles in the crease of hips. “I want to get us to bed so we can cuddle properly but I’m not sure if I can walk.”

“I know I can’t,” you laugh. “Cum is going to get everywhere.” It’s already leaking out of you, always does, but with how long and how much he just came it’s going to be worse. 

“I’ll get you to bed and eat it out of you,” Jack mumbles. He means it too, as tired as he sounds. He’s not really tired as much as he needs more time to recover. 

“I might actually cease to exist if you do,” you tease. 

Jack chuckles at that. He knows he’d have to wait too long to give you time to not hit a more painful than pleasurable hypersensitivity the second he started. “Can’t have that.” Jack doesn’t have to say more, doesn’t have to reassure you he’ll take care of you and clean you up. You know he will. He takes in a big breath and lets it out. “Alright, I can feel you getting cold, we’re gonna do it.” 

You nod against him and take your feet off the edge of the table and fall forward a bit, Jack slipping out of you in the process, little moans from both of you at it. Jack keeps strong hands on your hips as you stand up, legs just a bit wobbly. He follows you up and gets beside you, wraps an arm tightly around you. It’s actually not as bad as either of you thought, you recovered better than you realized while sitting with each other. Getting to the bed is pretty easy, all things considered. 

Jack shuts the patio door and then grabs a washcloth, gets it a little wet with warm water before coming over and cleaning you up. He takes it back to the bathroom and rinses it, leaves it to dry with all the other towels, shaking his head slightly at the sight. 

And then he finally climbs into bed with you, rolls on his side and starts pulling you close to him at the same time you move towards him. Once you settle he smiles as he looks at you, his eyes flitting about your whole face before settling on your eyes. “There she is, my pretty girl.”

“My handsome man.” Your voice is rough, a bit ragged from the moaning, but not as bad as after the second proposal. 

Jack leans in and kisses you. Just because he can and he loves you and he’s in bed with you in Paris and you’re marrying him. 

You look sad when he pulls away, maybe it’s more a preemptive forlornness. “I’m going to miss this,” you murmur. 

“I know. I am too.” Jack nods. Because he is. He hates seeing you upset but he wants you to know that he hears you and your feelings are valid before he tries to distract you. “We’ll always have Paris.” He fails to hide the smile that wants to grace his face, corners of his lips twitching up a little. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you just said that.” It worked. You’re smiling now, distracted.

“What?” Jack sings the word a little. “You were supposed to be impressed I can quote Casablanca at will.”

“I don’t think one needs to even have seen Casablanca to know that line.” You love him, him and the way he validates you but coaxes you into a better mood when it’s right. 

“Okay but I have.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. “Have you?”

You smirk. “We said no questions.” A little challenge for him. 

Jack nods, presses his lips together and pulls them down, raises his eyebrows at you. “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

“Aha!” you laugh, “you really have seen it and you remember it!” A bigger smirk pulls on your face. You want to see how far he’ll go. “Play-”

“I’m not singing As Time Goes By,” Jack cuts you off. 

You gape at him a little, smiling as you do. “I love you so much.”

“Did you mean for that to be a quote?” He smirks. 

Your jaw slackens a little bit as you smile. “I-” you shake your head. “No. No I did not.”

Jack laughs softly. “I love you more, Doll.”

You shake your head at him, lean in to kiss him, to taste him and consume him and be consumed by him. And then you blink and it’s morning, and blink again and you’re walking back into your apartment together. 

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

“Hawaiʻi is always a good option, especially if you don’t want to go international.” 

You and Jack are out on a date. He’d planned it, chosen a nice restaurant where you currently find yourselves, your favorite cuisine, of course. You’re doing something after but he won’t tell you what yet. It’s the weekend after the string of anniversaries. Your second anniversary together which you spent together out doing your favorite things together and getting a couple’s massage and having sex. 

That anniversary was followed a month later by the anniversary of the shooting and when you went septic and when you came home. There had been a lot of emotions with these three, but you and Jack got through them together. You didn’t try to ignore the meaning of the day as such, but you did try to take the days back, especially the day of the shooting and the day you went septic. So you spent the days together doing fun things both out and at home and enjoying each other and your time with each other and laughing and being close and having sex and yes, sometimes crying. Jack had thought a date the weekend after the last anniversary passed would just be a nice little thing to do, so he’d planned this.

“You don’t want to go international?” Jack asks. 

“No, no I never said that. I’d love to go international. I’d prefer to go international, honestly. I was just thinking out loud.” While you take a sip of your drink you make a little thinking face that Jack finds so adorable. “Fiji looks beautiful. Or any of the Caribbean islands. Bali. Mexico.” You get another bite of your food on your fork but pause before bringing it to your mouth. “We could go ziplining any of those places I bet. Ooh! Or horseback riding on the beach!”

Jack gives you an amused smile while you take your bite. “Anywhere else?”

You bob your head back and forward as you chew while thinking. “I’ve always thought one of those Viking river cruises would be cool! They go a lot of places now I think, and that would be a really cool way to see a region of Europe potentially.” You hum. “A tour of Italy. Or Spain. Or Croatia maybe!” You realize you’ve been doing all of the talking. “What about you? I’ve been the only one throwing places out there, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jack shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “I was having fun listening to you think of places and watching your face as you spoke about them. You’re very cute.” You give him an almost shy shrug and Jack is tempted to end the date here and now and take you home to have his way with you. “I like all of those places. Ireland would be cool I think, especially if we got a car and drove around. I’ve always wanted to do Japan too. Kyoto and Osaka. But then Greece or Crete or Cyprus also sound amazing.”

You nod as he speaks, smirk a little. “You’re going to have one hell of a decision to make, Peter.”

“I am,” Jack laughs softly. “Really depends on what we think we’d like to do on our honeymoon.”

“Each other, ideally. A lot.”

Jack lets out a huffed laugh, he should have seen that one coming. “Well, yes of course. There will be a lot of doing each other I have no doubt, Doll. But you know, do we want to do museums? Do we want to go look at historical sights? Do we want to just lay on the beach all day? Do we want a combination of all three?”

“No, I know what you mean, I was just teasing.” You run your foot up and down his left leg under the table. “I would be happy with any of those, genuinely. I know that’s not particularly helpful, but you could pick wherever you wanted and I’d love it. As long as we’re together.”

Jack smiles at you. He knows how much you mean it and he understands because he feels the same way. You guys could stay at your apartment for a week on a honeymoon and he’d be content. That’s not going to happen on his watch, but still. He knows it’s about the person and to some extent the reason and not so much the place. “That’s very sweet.” He lets his foot brush against the side of yours under the table. “It’s very unhelpful, you’re correct, but it’s very sweet too.” 

You playfully roll your eyes at his teasing. “I mean it. And you want to plan the honeymoon and do this as a surprise and I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick a place I said or that we have to do any of the things I said. We have a whole life together to go see all the other places.” 

“I know,” he reassures you, “I don’t. I just wanted to hear your thoughts and ideas.”

“Okay.” You nod and finish off your drink. “As long as you know that the honeymoon destination that will make me the happiest wife is the one that you pick because you put the time and effort into thinking about it and picking it and planning it.”  

Wife. You say it so nonchalantly but Jack’s brain glitches out and scrambles at the word. Of course he knows you’re going to be his wife, but hearing you refer to yourself as it leaves his mind fuzzy and reeling in the best way. It takes a second for him to process the rest of your sentence. 

“Jack? You okay?”

“I’m perfect, Doll. You okay?” The smile he gives you as he says it is so beautiful you curl your toes in your shoes to keep from screaming. 

“Yeah,” you nod, “but what was that? Something happened there for a sec.”

Jack’s smile doesn’t fade. He almost feels a little self-conscious in a way, being so affected by it. Sometimes it still fucks with his mind that you are going to be his wife. That you choose him. That he’s lucky enough to get to love you and be loved by you. But you are, and you do, and he is, and there is nothing in the world that makes him happier or prouder and so he doesn’t fucking care that the word got to him. 

“Wife.” You raise both of your brows at him, raise your chin a little too in question. “You said ‘honeymoon destination that will make me the happiest wife’ and my brain just got totally snagged on the word wife for a second.” You bite your lip and giggle at him. “Don’t laugh at me!” He’s laughing as he says it, no real meaning or force behind the statement because he knows you’re not really. 

“I’m not! I just think it’s cute!” You tilt your head at him. Something about the revelation makes you emotional in a way because you get that way with him and the word husband. And you get that way because it hits you how lucky you are and how much you love him and how proud you are to be his and call him yours, and so the thought of him having those same thoughts about you makes you emotional. “You say husband sometimes and the same thing happens to me, and so I just think it’s cute that it happens to you too.” You shrug a little. You seem almost flustered. “And, I don’t know,” you shake your head slightly, “it just makes me feel good knowing the same thing happens to you when you hear me say wife.”

“Of course it does.” Jack gives you his own shrug. His smile turns a little teasing. “Lots of things you say snag my brain sometimes.”

“Oh? And what things-” You’re interrupted by your waiter asking if he can clear your plates and if you’d like to see the dessert menu. “Yeah, I guess we’ll have a look, thank you.” You take it from him and help him collect your plates. Once he’s gone you look back at Jack to finish your question but he’s smirking and shaking his head. You know he won’t tell you. 

“Anything look good?” He asks, nodding at the menu in your hand. You roll your eyes at him, but your smile makes it clear how you really feel. 

You look over the menu, hum to yourself a bit as you do. “It all looks good.” You hold the menu out for him to take. “Look, you can practice your decision making skills now and pick for us.”

Jack shakes his head and smirks. “I don’t need the menu. I know exactly what I’m having for dessert.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head. But again, your smile gives you away. You open your eyes back up and keep shaking your head at him. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Mmm,” Jack hums. “Technically you didn’t take me here. I took you here. On the date. That I planned.” You roll your eyes at him. “Let’s skip dessert here. We can get it after the next thing, okay?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I want to know what the next thing is.”

“And so you will soon.” Jack flashes you one of those smiles of his that completely disarms you before turning his head and grabbing the attention of the waiter to get the bill. 

Once you and Jack step out of the restaurant you lace your fingers with Jack’s and wrap your other hand around his upper arm. “So do I get to know what we’re doing next now?” You shake him a little bit to show your excitement and emphasize how badly you want to know. 

Jack smirks at you and cocks his head. “You know I wasn’t going to tell you.” You pout at that and he brings his free hand up and swipes his thumb over your downturned lip. “But you’re so cute and adorable that I will.” Your eyes widen a little, sparkling in the street light. “We’re going stargazing.” 

Your head tilts forward a bit, a confused smile pulling onto your face. “Stargazing?” 

“Stargazing.” He nods at you and gives you quite the self-satisfied smile at your reaction. You’d told Jack early into your relationship that you found space and stars incredibly interesting, and that you like looking at constellations and learning about their meaning. He happened to see something in passing that reminded him about it and gave him the idea. “That okay?” Your silence doesn’t worry him, but he just wants to check. 

You shake your head a little. “So much more than okay. I love it, thank you.” 

“Good, and you’re welcome, the pleasure of setting it up was all mine, Doll.” He offers you his arm and it makes you grin and giggle like a love sick fool. You take it, looping your arm through his and letting him lead you to wherever it is you’ll be stargazing together. 

It requires a trip on the light rail and when you get off you’re even more unsure of what exactly Jack’s plan is. You’re near the Steelers’ stadium. “Are we stargazing at the stadium? Are they like doing an event?” 

“Nope.” Jack pops the ‘p’ a little and leads you down the street. 

“I’m very lost, I don’t think I’ve ever been down here at night.” You pause. “Not sober at least.” 

Jack chuckles softly to himself. “Hold on, we’re almost there.” You guys walk a bit more and Jack stops. “We’re here.” 

“This is where we’re stargazing?”

Jack points to the building up just a bit in front of you. “The planetarium.” You look where he’s pointing, the hand not holding his coming to rest over your lips. “I saw that they were doing late night programs and it made me think of you. You said you liked stars and space once, constellations. I’d love to take you real stargazing, and I promise to one day, but I wasn’t sure how long it would be until we could steal away to somewhere with a lot less light pollution. So I thought this was a nice compromise. I know we might not be able to talk as much as if we were out in the middle of nowhere, but at least we’ll have someone explaining what shit is. There’s a couple different shows we can see too.” He thinks it’s ridiculous how his heart rate speeds up, how he’s engaged to you and seen you almost die and been with you for more than two years and he’s still nervous about whether you like his date idea. 

“Compromise?” You laugh breathlessly as you turn back to him. “Jack, this is… incredible. I…” You close your mouth and laugh a little. “I’m kind of speechless. I had to have told you that back when we first started dating. I want to say I can’t believe you can remember but fuck,” you shake your head a bit, “I think you just remember everything about me.” 

“I try to keep track of it all. Sometimes I get lucky and my memory gets pinged, like when I saw the poster for this.” He lets out a breath. “Okay, good. I’m glad you like it, I got kind of worried there for a second.” 

“I more than like it Jack.” You slip your hand from his so that you can take his face in your hands. You smile at him and you’re sure it looks as gooey and in love as you feel. He knows that look.

Jack stifles a laugh. “You wanna say it together?” You keep the smile but scoff a little. “What? You get a look. It’s this very particular smile. I know what it means.” You squeeze his face a little and take a small breath in. 

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you and Jack say in unison. He beams as he shakes his head at you, laughing softly and looking at you like you personally hung the moon and all of the stars you’re about to go see together just for him.

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

After the anniversaries pass you and Jack really start to focus on wedding planning. While you didn’t want a two year engagement because you both just wanted to be married already, you knew it was the right call. You didn’t want the first anniversary of the shooting to fall a month and a bit after the wedding, since you’d chosen your anniversary as your date. And you needed the extra year for that day to fall on a Saturday, so you both felt it was just meant to be.

The first thing you end up really doing for the wedding is your registry. You weren’t even going to make a registry until Dana found out and convinced you that you should. It’s a spur of the moment thing one weekend. You haven’t done anything for the wedding really but you have a date and that’s enough to start a registry so you decide to go do it even though it seems out of order. It makes a great date for the two of you that has you laughing and dreaming about your future together. Neither of you expect anything from anyone. You make a couple at different places, to give people options. And because it’s fun to do. 

You and Jack browse Crate and Barrel. You don’t know why the sight of him in Crate and Barrel makes you a little giggly, but it does. “An espresso machine.” Jack cocks his head at it. “What do we need an espresso machine for?” he asks, scanning it in anyways despite his question.

“Espresso.” You offer no further explanation. 

Jack stops walking and lets out a deep sigh, hanging his head for a second and then shaking it to himself. But you both know he loves it, the sass. “You hardly drink espresso,” Jack points out.  

You shrug as you keep perusing. “Well maybe I would drink more if we had an espresso machine.”

“You really want someone to buy us an espresso machine?”

“Nobody is actually going to buy us an espresso machine. People know us better than that. And if they don’t then that’s what returns are for.” You turn around and smile at him. He’s shaking his head at you but wears a smile. 

“And when whoever gets it for us wants to come over and doesn’t see it out on the counter?” He raises his eyebrows in a little challenge as he walks closer to you and uses his free hand to squeeze your hip. 

You contemplate for a second. “We’ll make a list of people we can never invite over. Or we’ll keep the espresso machine.”

Shortly after making your registries you nail down a venue. It’s fairly overwhelming trying to find one in Pittsburgh because of the sheer number of options. And that’s just if you stay in Pittsburgh and don’t consider the surrounding areas. “I don’t know, Doll, I’m not good with that stuff. With words.” You and Jack are driving around the city looking at different options today. 

“I don’t know, Jack, the speech you gave as you proposed was pretty damn good.” Jack throws you a look. “They don’t have to be flowery or some crazy level of poetic beauty or whatever. All they have to be are vows from you. From your heart. I’m going to love them no matter what as long as they come from you. It’s not like I’m some poetic master.” You put your hand over his where it rests on your thigh. “If you really don’t want to, I’m not going to make us I just-”

“No,” he cuts you off because he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. “It’s not that I don’t want to, at all. I do want to. I don’t want us to get up there and only say the traditional vows. I like the idea of personal vows, I want that.” He lets out a big sigh. “I’m just concerned about my ability to… execute.”

“Can you name a challenge you took on and failed to rise to the occasion and execute?” You trace random shapes on the back of his hand, wait for an answer. One never comes. “That’s what I thought, because I know I’ve never seen it happen. Why don’t we plan to do them, and if we get closer and you’re concerned then we can revisit, yeah?”

Jack shakes his head as he pulls into a parking spot at the next place. He turns to look at you once he’s parked. “We’re doing them. No reevaluating. I want to do them. I have a lot to say to you, a lot to promise you.”

You beam at him. “I have a lot to say to you and promise you too.” You lean over the center console and push your lips out for a kiss that he’s happy to give you. “Come on. Maybe this will be the place we do all of our saying and promising.” 

This place will overwhelmingly not be where you and Jack get married. It is comically bad. You and Jack are both having to focus hard on not losing it with laughter.

The person showing you around is blissfully oblivious to your guys’ struggle. It’s not even so much that the place is bad, it’s how different it is than the photos you saw online. Your brain is truly hurting trying to figure out where the photos you saw online were taken and how the spaces could have ever looked like the photos. 

“I would love to know who took the online photos for them because they sure are talented,” Jack whispers as you follow the man into the reception room. 

“Same, I’d hire them for our wedding in a second.” You have to swallow hard right after saying it to keep from laughing. 

You and Jack both walk around the space and pretend to be interested as the man continues to talk about all the various features of the room. You make the mistake of glancing up and over at Jack. He’s not even looking at you, he’s standing behind the man showing you around who is somehow still talking about the features of the room staring at him with a look of concerned horror mixed with bewilderment. 

You spin so that you’re facing a wall and neither Jack nor the man, hand flying to clamp over your mouth as you bite your lip hard to keep from laughing. You walk away a bit, standing over near a random swatch of carpet embedded in one corner of the dancefloor. 

“Oh, yes!” The man calls to you and you shake your head to yourself a bit, have to let out a small scoffed laugh just to ease some of the tension in you. “The dance floor is great, isn’t it! A great size and the flooring is beautiful.”  

You nod. “Yeah, it’s so pretty,” you force out, voice a couple of octaves higher as you hold in your laughter. You don’t have to be looking at Jack to know his eyes snap to you, the shit-eating grin that pulls up on his face radiating off him even from across the room. 

You already know he’s on his way over to you so you take a couple of deep breaths and pull yourself together. You focus on the wall in front of you. You know that if you look at Jack you’ll break. 

“Everything alright, Dear?” Jack asks in a whisper as he walks up to stand next to you all fake saccharine and concern in his tone. The man has launched into some tale about some famous Pittsburgh native who had their wedding here.

“I’m great.” You nod, swallowing hard. “I’m really great.” 

“You sure?” He’s smirking now. “You can’t even meet my eyes.” 

“I’m not looking at you. And you know why.” You shake your head, keep your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. 

“But I have a very cute face. You tell me so all the time.” You can hear his pout. 

“Jack,” you warn, lips twitching up. 

“Okay! Okay!” The way he gave it up so quickly has you on edge.

“Jack. I swear to god.” You do your best to sound stern but there’s too much of a laughing lilt to your voice to be at all effective. 

“I said okay!” he protests. You’re still suspicious. 

And you’re right to be. You and Jack move across the room and get a bit closer to the man, do your best to pretend you’re interested in the story and the space. You make the mistake of looking away so that Jack is no longer in even your peripheral vision. And that’s when he makes his move, casually reaching his hand towards you and pinching your ass.

“Jack!” You manage to keep your shrill laughed yell of his name at a relative whisper as you bat away his hand. The only thing that saves you from cracking up is your very smart choice not to look at Jack.

Not quiet enough though. The man turns around. “Pardon?”

You’re immediately grabbing Jack and turning him, pretending to point at something across the room. Your voice is still a couple octaves higher as you fight back the laughter. “Oh, I was just pointing… that out to him.” You smile and nod at the guy. It evidently placates him enough because he launches straight back into whatever his current story is about. 

“That? That is what you came up with?” Jack whispers, finally looks like you’re making him struggle to keep from laughing. 

“I couldn’t pick one of the many fucking thats in the room fast enough!” This time you reach out to poke his side but he’s too fast, catches your hand with a smug grin. But you’ve played this game enough times with Jack. 

While he focuses on the hand he ends up catching you’re subtly moving your other hand near him. So the second that smug grin hits you poke his side, arching a brow and giving him his own smug grin back when he jolts and lets out half a laugh that he then pretends was a cough. 

You look away from him and take a few steps away because it’s getting to be too much again. “Jack.” Another warning as he comes up behind you again, still too much laugh in it for it to be particularly effective.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You believe him this time, can hear it in his voice. He presses his lips to your temple. 

“You better be,” you whisper. You can feel him smile and give you another kiss there before pulling away. 

Mercifully, the man concludes the tour and asks if you’d like to come in to book a date and discuss options. You’ve recovered enough to let him know you guys are going to look at a few more just to be sure. 

Both you and Jack are surprised when the guy appears to be fine with that and doesn’t insist you come back to his desk for some hard sell. You’re sure fucking grateful for it though because there’s no fucking way you guys would have kept it together at a table with this man.

The man walks you to your car which you both find odd, but the look you exchange is an agreement that the move fits the vibe of the place. 

You had both been doing so well, no longer on the verge of tears of laughter. But then the man tells you what weddings start at for the event and you both have to stifle laughs because there is no fucking way anybody is paying that much for this. You just nod at the guy and accept the second brochure he gives you as he tells you that if you guys decide to do the wedding here he can offer you a thirty percent discount. 

Jack decides this is the perfect time to return to your little game. 

“Thank you very much, we’ll be in-” Jack chooses then to pinch your ass again, making you blurt out half a laugh that you somehow manage to stop from devolving into the fit of laughter you have the urge to break into. You clear your throat. “We’ll be in touch, thank you.” 

You stand there frozen and smiling until the man is far enough away and then let out a long breath. Jack pinches your ass again. 

“Oh my god! Jack Daniel Abbot!” you shrill as you turn to him. “You were so trying to make me come unglued in there and out here you asshole!” It’s all bark and absolutely no bite. You’re not mad or even really trying to chide him. You love it. 

“Oh?” Jack laughs. “Whisky on your mind, lover? Because I know my middle name isn’t Daniel and I know you know that.” 

You huff and roll your eyes. “It just came out okay! It’s just what rolled off my tongue in the moment because I’m so mad at you!”

“Oh no, you’re not mad at me. Not even a little. You fucking love it.” Jack smirks, looking like the cat who got the cream. And he’s right and he knows it.“But would you like to see what can roll off my tongue in the moment?”

For whatever reason that’s what makes you crack. That comment. Within seconds you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe, and Jack is right behind you.

“That was so bad,” you almost whisper through your laughter. You both laugh so hard you go soundless, laugh so hard it hurts and you both cry. You end up leaning into Jack to help stay standing because you can’t stop fucking laughing.

“I can’t breathe,” you laugh, keep laughing even after you say it, tears dripping from your eyes.

“If you can laugh and talk you can breathe,” Jack manages to get out, wiping away some of his own tears of laughter.

“Oh,” you give him a fake glare through your tears, “don’t you get fucking medical with me right now, Dr. Abbot.”  

You both start to calm down, laughter trailing off and giving way to sniffles and coughs to clear your throats, the occasional giggle from both of you. Jack gives one last huff of a laugh. “Come on, Doll. Let’s get in the car.” 

Jack’s hand finds the small of your back and he leads you the little bit of the way left to the car, opening the passenger door for you and shutting it once you’re in. You’ve been together over two years now and him opening and closing the door for you still makes you melt. It’s just so Jack in a way you don’t know how to describe.

Jack gets in the car and closes his door and you both let out long breaths at the same time before spending a moment in a comfortable silence, both of you thinking back on that entire tour. 

“That was certainly…” you trail off, giving a long shake of your head as you look for the word. 

“Something,” Jack fills in for you. “That was certainly something.” 

You and Jack burst back into laughter. It doesn’t last anywhere near as long this time, but you both get a little teary again because the whole thing is so fucking absurd.

“Is it bad…” Jack trails off, sniffling and wiping some tears from his eyes as he laughs a little more. “Oh god,” he sniffles again, “is it bad that it’s so bad it almost makes me want to get married there?”

You shake your head, laughing harder for a second. “No. No, because I had the same thought for a second. It would be so bad it would be good. It’s like The Room.” The thought makes your laughter pick back up for a second before you both finally start to come down.

“We’re not going to actually do it though, right?” Jack asks as you both recover from all the laughing. 

“No.” You shake your head a bit as you sniffle and wipe the last of your tears off your face. “Absolutely not, no.”

“Alright then let’s get out of here.” Jack leans over the center console and gives you a quick kiss. 

“Yes,” you type the next venue into your phone so the directions show on the car’s infotainment screen, “let’s.”  

This time, you both fall in love with the venue almost immediately. It’s perfect for the two of you and just the right size for your smaller and more intimate wedding. You and Jack wander up and stand at the place you think you’ll set up the altar, turn to face each other and hold hands. “What do you think?” you ask him quietly. 

“I think that this is where I’m going to be standing the first time I see you in your wedding dress,” he smiles. 

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You love it?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Jack wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. “Wanna practice the best part?” You giggle as you nod and wrap your arms around Jack’s neck. Jack’s smiling as he leans in to kiss you. It’s lingering but chaste. Jack pulls away from you and you’re immediately back to smiling at one another. He leans in for another kiss and this time he catches you by surprise when he dips you and you feel him laugh against your lips. He brings you back up, keeps holding onto you. “We have a venue.”

You nod, still smiling, probably look like a love drunk fool but you don’t care. “We have a venue.”

The next item crossed off the list is a dress for you. You keep your group small, a friend from work and Dana, Heather and Mel, the Pitt crew you’ve become the closest with through all of this.

You stand at the desk with the four of them, Robby, and Jack. Dana had put in for a half shift so she could attend and you’re collecting her on your way to the store. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come? Robby can handle it here by himself.”

“Excuse me? Have you looked at the board?” Robby points up to it. 

“I’m sure.” You give Jack a knowing smile. “You get to see it on the day when I’m at the top of the aisle my love.”

“Alright, I just thought I’d offer.” Jack holds up his hands. You know he’s dying at the thought a little. It’s one thing for him to know you��ll be getting a wedding dress. It’s another for him to know you have a wedding dress and he can’t see it. 

“You’ll be fine Jack.” Dana swats at him. 

“You know I could come? If you’d like a male perspective,” Robby offers. “Jack can handle it here by himself.” You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing, Dana not even trying to hide her snicker while your friend, Heather and Mel turn their heads. 

“Absolutely fucking not!” Jack hisses. “Michael does not get to see my wife in her wedding dress before I do!”

Nobody comments on his slip. On the way Jack just called you his wife. You bite your lip even harder at it and look to the side and exchange glances with Mel, who shoots you a wide eyed look of excitement and surprise at it. 

You look over at Robby and smile. “I appreciate the offer Robby, but I think the five of us will make out okay. You guys ready?” You look at the group. When everyone agrees you turn your attention back to Jack, walk over to give him a quick kiss. “Have a good day at work, Peter.”

“Have fun dress shopping.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

You nod at him and the five of you leave out the ambulance bay doors. It’s not a long trip to the wedding dress shop you found, a short ride on the light rail and up a few blocks. Your consultant is nice, asks what you’re looking for. You’re not really sure and not trying to box yourself into anything so you’re kind of open to anything. You tell her about the venue, the general feeling you’d like the dress to have, your budget and trust her to go pick the dress. 

It’s strange sitting in the dressing room. You think back on everything, your whole relationship with Jack, how much you’ve already been through together. You fidget with the ring on your finger as you wait. He really did do a great job picking out a ring and you love that it’s bespoke and so yours alone. 

Eventually your consultant returns with an overwhelming amount of sparkle and tulle and lace and chiffon and silk organza and taffeta in every shade of white and some blush tones. You start trying them on. You try on five or six, come out to show your party four of them. You all agree that none have been quite right. You get closer as you try on dresses but it’s hard not to feel a bit discouraged. You want to find the one so badly. 

Once you’re out of the last dress your consultant runs back to the stockroom, tells you she thinks she’s thought of the perfect dress. You take a little gasp when she walks in with it and shows it off to you. It’s stunning just on the hanger. Just having it on before you turn to see yourself you already feel like it’s the one. The dress you’re supposed to marry Jack in. 

“Oh wow,” you breathe as you turn around and look at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room. Tears start to form but you do your best to blink them away. You head out to show the group and you aren’t even conscious of it, but you’re beaming. 

You get up on the pedestal and face yourself in the mirror. The dress highlights all the right places, the color goes perfectly with your skin tone and makes you look glowy. But most importantly it makes you feel good, which can be so hard for you to find. As you take yourself in you realize the dress makes you feel how Jack makes you feel when he looks at you. Special and beautiful.

“What do you guys think?” Your consultant helps you turn towards them. 

“That’s the one.” Dana smiles back at you.

“Unquestionably,” your friend agrees. 

Heather and Mel agree as your consultant brings over some accessories including a beautiful veil for you to decide on. You turn back and look at yourself in the mirror all done up and are handed a tissue because you get so teary. It’s perfect. 

“You guys think Jack will like it?” you ask.

All of them laugh a little at that and you half turn back around. “What?” You give a little laugh too because of the looks on their faces. 

“As cliché as it is, you could walk down the aisle in a trash bag and Jack would love it and think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.” Heather smirks at you. 

“He’s going to love this. You look so, so beautiful.” Mel beams at you. “And gorgeous and stunning.”

“He’s going to fucking lose it when he sees you,” your friend laughs softly, squeezing Dana’s arm as Dana leans into her a little to show her agreement.

“He’ll cry.” Dana nods, a little teary herself. You know she has a special relationship with Jack, that they’ve known each other a long time and she, like Robby, has seen him through some of the worst moments of his life, helped save him too. 

“He fucking better,” you laugh through a sniffle, blotting at your eyes. You look back at yourself in the mirror and get a bit teary again. “It just makes it so real, you know? We’re really getting married. I’m getting married to him in this dress.” 

“So you’re saying yes?” Mel asks, huge smile on her face. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes. This is my wedding dress.” Everyone claps and gets up to give you hugs. You take some photos of course and then get everything bought, get told to make sure you have your shoes by the time of your first alteration appointment. The five of you grab an early dinner and then you head home and wait for Jack. 

You’re chilling on the couch with your feet laid out on it, head propped up a bit with a pillow and the armrest, scrolling and watching tv. You’re in one of Jack’s old oversized t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts. The way you’re laying on the couch though makes it seem like you have nothing on under them. You hear the sound of the door unlocking and Jack step in. “Honey, I’m home!” he calls out teasingly as he drops his bag and gets his shoes off. “Well,” Jack drawls, voice lower than normal, walking towards the couch, “this is a sight I could get very used to.” 

You laugh and affectionately roll your eyes at him as he starts to crawl up the couch between your legs. You drop your phone to the side and widen your hips to help accommodate him. “Hi.” You smile at him and give him the kiss he seeks. Jack lowers himself so that he’s laying on you, chest to chest with his head resting to one side. He can hear your heartbeat and lets out a big sigh, shoulders sagging a bit. “Long day?” 

“Yeah. Not a bad one, just long.” You start running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and it makes Jack hum, nuzzle into your chest. “That constant kind of busy that’s just draining some days.” He can’t help but let out another hum of contentment as you let him lay on you and scratch his scalp and let him listen to your heartbeat and smell you. Let him become enveloped by you. It’s always so relaxing. Sometimes he falls asleep and you stay like that until he wakes up hungry and realizing you both need dinner. 

He lets out another big sigh, this one full of fake hardship. “Plus I had to spend all day thinking about my fiancée out getting her wedding dress and knowing she won’t show me or give me a hint about it.” He playfully bites at your chest over his shirt, his voice so deliberately overdramatic it makes you laugh. “You find one?” You can hear the smile in his voice now. 

“I did, yeah.” He can hear the smile in your voice now. You don’t say anything more, in part because you have nothing else to say and in part because you know he’s going to comment. 

When you don’t speak he fills the silence like you knew he would. “You wanna show me? Give me something? A little hint?”

He can feel the vibrations of the quiet laugh his words pull from you. “Not particularly, no.” Jack makes a little noise of protest. “Alright. A trade.” Jack nuzzles into you again in acknowledgment. “You can see me and the dress if I can know where we’re going for our honeymoon.”

“No!” Jack says immediately. “I want it to be a surprise.”

His head moves with your chest as you laugh properly at that. “That’s how I feel about my dress.” You let one of your hands come up to his face, brush your thumb over his cheekbone. “You know I’ve never actually seen you in your dress blues, so really your dress blues are your dress.”

“I’ll show you a photo of me in my dress blues if you’ll show me a photo of you in your dress,” Jack is quick to offer as an alternative trade even though he knows it’s in vain. 

“Nope.” You pop the p. “I’ll wait to see you just like you’ll wait to see me.” 

You decide not to wait on wedding bands though, not to pick them out for each other and have them be a surprise for the other like some couples prefer to do. You guys want the experience of going in and doing it together. 

You go, of course, to the local store where Jack got your engagement ring. The owner is thrilled to meet you and see the woman he helped Jack design the ring for. You talk about wedding bands and what you’re looking for. You guys walk around and pick a couple out and then the owner brings over more options, from simple metal bands to more intricate bands with diamonds for you, a couple of men’s options with diamonds too. 

Jack picks one he likes and slips it on his finger. He looks down at it as he clenches his fist to see how the band thickness feels before straightening it back out. It hits him, how he’s really going to be married. To you. And seeing a ring on Jack’s finger levels you in a way you weren’t expecting. 

“Wow.” It’s a little breathy, the way you say it. It makes Jack look over at you. “I thought getting the dress made it feel real, but this, you with a wedding ring on… wow.” You look up at Jack and give him an equally breathy laugh. 

“Yeah,” he breathes back, clearly also a bit dazed. “Put one on,” he encourages. 

You take your engagement ring off, pick one and slide it on, stare down at your hand. “I know you’ve had a ring on but still,” Jack swallows thickly. 

“It’s a wedding ring,” you murmur, staring down at your hand. You slide your engagement ring back on and hold your hand out again, the wedding ring you tried on sitting nicely underneath it. “That’s so wild.”

Jack starts laughing because that’s such a you thing to say. He leans into you and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs. 

“Love you too,” you hum back. You both try on quite a few more. It’s easier for the two of you to pick one for Jack than it is for you. You’re overwhelmed by all the options. “I’m glad I didn’t have to pick out the engagement ring,” you mumble. 

Jack nods with you. “I’m glad I just saw the ring and knew it was almost perfect. And I’m glad we’re picking this one out together.”

“I don’t know how to decide. They’re all so pretty.” You wiggle your ring finger a bit so the diamonds catch the light as you evaluate the current option you’re wearing. You take it off and then look over the tray of rings you haven’t tried. One catches your eye. It’s over in the corner of the tray by happenstance so it was easy for you to overlook with all of the choices. You recognize it as one of the ones Jack had picked out when you were looking around. You slip it on and evaluate by itself. It’s perfect. You slide your engagement ring on top and it remains perfect, the wedding ring complementing your engagement ring as though they were made to be worn together, even with their differences. 

You hold your hand up again, wiggle it. “I really love that look,” Jack murmurs. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” you agree. “It’s perfect.” You pull your eyes from the rings and look up at Jack who’s already looking down at you with a soft smile. “This is the one. This is my wedding ring.” You lean up and kiss him. You keep it chaste and short since you’re in public with the owner nearby. “You picked it out, you know.”

Jack nods, eyes earnest and crinkling a bit at the corners with the small smile he wears. “Yeah I remember. I had a feeling. But I didn’t want to pressure you. And I promise I don’t love it just because I’m the one who picked it out.”

“I know, I never thought that.” You look back down at your hand and grab his left hand, place yours on top, fingers offset by one so that his wedding ring sits next to your engagement and wedding rings. “We have our wedding rings.”

Jack grins at you, eyes sparkling like the gemstones surrounding you. “We have our wedding rings.”

About five months out from the wedding you go catering and cake tasting. Jack loves to pretend he doesn’t have a sweet tooth but you know he does. It’s why you love baking for him so much, because you know he loves it and enjoys everything you make. You know his likes well by now. He likes sweet but not too sweet. 

“That’s alotta fucking cake.” Jack’s eyebrows are raised as he watches the woman bring the big tray of cake samples over to you. 

“Well,” you have to fight back a laugh at the way Jack said alotta fucking cake. “We certainly won’t be able to say we didn’t have options.” The woman sets the tray down. Each small slice of cake has a number in front of it, and she hands you a piece of paper that describes each of the cakes as identified by their corresponding number. “We need a whole ass pamphlet to explain what the options are.” Jack snorts at that, pulls his phone out and takes a photo quickly. “An experience you don’t want to forget?”

“I’m sending it to Robby.” He glances at you and you quirk an eyebrow at him. “He wanted to come to the cake tasting so fucking bad.” 

“So you’re showing him what he’s missing out on?” You smirk at Jack.

“No, I am encouraging him to find someone so that he can have his own cake tasting. I’m tempted to send it in the group chat with Dana so that she gets on his ass about it.” He looks so amused with himself you have to chuckle. Jack puts his phone back on the table next to yours. “Sorry. Just had to do that. I’m focused now.”

You laugh softly and lean into Jack a little, each of you holding the pamphlet with one hand. “Lemon blueberry with tangerine icing is interesting.” 

“I bet it’s good, though. Refreshing. Oh, espresso ganache,” Jack has to hold back a laugh. “How fancy.”

“I think you’re going to like that.” You point to a different one. “Ginger-infused cake with cognac. I think that’s the one that says fancy.” 

“Espresso ganache? You really think I’m going to like that? I prefer my coffee black, my americanos black. Not with mocha or whatever else. Ginger cognac does sound fancier though. I bet it’s good.”

“I am quite certain you’ll like it in the context of a cake.” You keep looking. “Almond. I like a nice simple almond cake. Oh fuck, cannoli cake I bet that’s so good, it has cannoli filling layers.”

“Yeah but their almond cake isn’t going to beat yours, so. I’m not convinced about the ganache.” Jack shrugs. You smile to yourself at his compliment. “English lavender with earl grey buttercream is probably good. Red velvet. But again, yours is so good. Glazed donut is interesting, but okay. Butterscotch bourbon, that’s probably really good. Oh, here’s the winner. Sultry chocolate cake. Not just chocolate cake. Sultry chocolate cake.” 

“It sounds like something for the honeymoon suite. Imagine having to put that on the placard things or whatever that tell people what the cake is. Sultry chocolate cake. And you haven’t tried the ganache yet, of course you’re not convinced.” You take in a breath and look up at Jack. “I think we just have to start trying. Unless there are any you want to eliminate right away.”

“We’re here now with them in front of us. Might as well try them all.” Jack shrugs. “How about starting with the strawberry champagne cake?” You nod and Jack grabs the slice and sets it in front of you. You each take a bite and make a little noise of appreciation at how good it is. You keep trying new flavors, some immediately being taken out of contention. 

“Let’s try the glazed donut. I feel like it’s going to be kind of weird,” You say as you grab the plate and bring it in front of you both. “Like if you want the taste of glazed donut at your wedding just have fucking glazed donuts.” 

Jake takes a bite and hums in appreciation. It’s not bad. “Donuts aren’t as elegant.”

You fake roll your eyes at him as you take a bite. You shrug. “It’s not terrible, but I just come back to have donuts.”

“Agree, it’s not bad but also not going to be our wedding cake flavor.” Jack nods. You both look over the pamphlet and try a few more, a couple of which you’re really considering. 

“Cannoli next?” He knows this one will likely end up in the serious contenders section of the table, clears a spot for it. Jack grabs the slice and sets it in front of the two of you, takes a forkful. 

“I’d always rather be your cannoli than glazed donut,” you hum softly as Jack starts to chew.

Jack chokes a little, managing to get the bite down in stuttering gasps, coughing and reaching for the bottle of water they’d given you as you pat his back and bite your lip. You feel bad, you hadn't meant to make him choke. Once he settles you take a bite of the cake. Unsurprisingly, it’s really fucking good. 

“What did you just say?” Jack’s finally able to whisper, voice a bit scratchy. 

You furrow your brows in feigned innocence. “That I’d always rather have cannoli cake than glazed donut cake?”

“No,” Jack draws the word out and gives a little laugh. “I don’t think so.” You deepen the furrow of your brow in mock confusion. “I think you should admit it, lest you end up my glazed donut for a while.”

You snort. “Please. You love filling your cannoli way too much. I’d be your glazed donut maybe once before I was back to being your cannoli.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jack narrows his eyes at you. 

“No.” You pull your lips down and shake your head as you take another bit of the cake on your fork. You look back up at Jack. “It’s a statement of fact, Peter.” You finish bringing the fork to your mouth and take the bite while maintaining eye contact with him. 

“Oh,” he laughs out the word softly. “Is it now?”

“Mhhhm,” you nod as you keep your mouth closed and chew. “And I love that fact about you so much, because like I said, I’d always rather be your cannoli than glazed donut.”

“Good,” Jack nods, trying his hardest to seem unaffected and succeeding in relation to everyone except for you. “Thank you for saying it.” 

“I think it should go in the serious contender area.” You flick your chin at the cake. 

“I already made a space Doll.” Jack gives you a little smirk. “I know you and your tastes very well by now.” 

You try a few more, none of which either of you really cares for. Then Jack goes to try the cake featuring the espresso ganache. You look at him expectantly with a little smirk on your face. You can see him fighting to keep his face neutral as he tries it. “Okay. I’ll admit it. You were right, it’s actually really fucking good.”

“See!” You poke at his tummy. “I know you and your tastes very well, Jack Abbot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack takes another bite. “I think this is actually one of my favorites. You could totally recreate this at home I bet. I could have it for every birthday or special occasion.” 

You consider it as you take another bite. You probably could. But then a slow smirk draws on your face and you look at Jack. You can’t help yourself. “Jack, my love. My darling. Love of my life. Do you know what making this at home would require?” Jack shakes his head while working on another bite. Your smirk grows. “An espresso machine.” 

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

You can tell by the way he unlocks the door and steps in. He doesn’t say anything as he locks the door behind him. Jack just drops his bag and looks at you.

“Rough shift?” You grimace a little just from his expression. He looks demoralized almost, which is rare for him. 

Jack walks over and sits next to you on the couch, leaning in to grab a kiss before answering. It feels a little different than his usual home from work kisses, lasts a little longer. 

“You could say.” He lets himself sink back into the couch. You wait, see if he wants to volunteer more. Jack shakes his head a little. “Just lost a few people, more than usual.” You reach over and squeeze his thigh, move a bit closer to him and lean on him a bit. You know feeling close to you can help. 

“I’m sorry it was a bad day, Peter,” you murmur. You know that there’s not much you can say that will help right now. This is one of those parts of Jack’s job that hits much harder some shifts than others and no words will take it away or fix it. All you can do is listen and be here for him and let him know he doesn’t have to bear it alone.   

“No kids.” Jack shrugs. “I guess at least there’s that.” Jack’s hands grab your hand from his thigh, hold it between his.

It’s a cover. There’s something about the way he says it, his tone and the particular mannerism of his shrug and the way he picks up and holds your hand between his. You nod to yourself slightly. He can’t say it out loud. Either can’t or doesn’t want to. But you know. 

“How far away was the wedding?” you whisper. 

Jack lets out a pained laugh. “Fuck,” he mutters. He squeezes your hand and you know he’s saying thank you for knowing and seeing me and understanding and asking when I couldn’t say it. “Six months.” You rest your other hand on the top of his and squeeze gently. “And now he’s going home alone with a funeral to plan and a wedding to cancel. God, and I feel so fucking selfish and like a terrible person for saying this with what that guy is going through but I really could have done without having to watch him slide her engagement ring off her finger.” The fingers of his bottom hand instinctively search for yours. 

You wince at his words, heart aching at the thought of him having to watch that scene unfold. “Thinking that doesn’t make you selfish Jack, it makes you human.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Jack drops your hand and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t want to dwell. It was just a rough day.” 

You respect his wish, don’t keep talking about it or try and get him to open up to you about it more right now. He’s told you that’s not what he needs. “Can I get you anything? Beer? I could go draw you a bath?”

Jack finally turns his head as it rests against the couch to look at you. “No.” Jack reaches for you, grabs at one of your hips and thighs. You get that message too and slide yourself onto his lap so that you sit perpendicular to him. Jack rests his forehead against the side of your neck for a second and breathes deep before pulling back. “I just want to be here with you for a bit.”

“Then here for a bit is where we’ll be.” You give him an adoring smile and lean in closer to him, cup his face with your hands. You kiss all over his face, but not in a flurry like you do sometimes. You take your time, plant each kiss deliberately and linger it for just a second to make sure Jack really feels it. You start at his hairline, move back across his forehead. You kiss each of his eyebrows and the space between them, his temples and then his eyelids, soft lashes fluttering against your lips. You kiss his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheeks and then the tip of his nose. You kiss the skin around his mouth, the bottom of his cheeks, and then his jawline and chin. And then you kiss his lips and Jack takes over. 

You yield to him, let him take control and deepen it, your hands sliding down to hold onto his scrub top as Jack licks into your mouth and groans. He’s needed this all day, all fucking day. Needed you. He doesn’t even need more, he just needs you, in some capacity. Eventually the two of you are forced apart by the need for oxygen. 

“I’m here,” you murmur. 

Jack takes in a big breath and lets it out a bit shakily. “Yeah,” he brings his hands up to cup your face, looks you in the eyes. “You are.” You let yourself lean into Jack, rest your head on his shoulder as his arms wrap around you to keep you close. You just sit like that for a while, let Jack hold you and feel you and come down from work.

“So I was thinking,” Jack starts.

You can’t help yourself. “Uh-oh, we’re in trouble now.”

Jack rolls his eyes at you and clicks his tongue, but he’s grateful for it, the way you help shift the mood. He needs it, to have a good night with you, the two of you just being normal together. “I was thinking that once we’re back from our honeymoon and have settled for a couple of months, what if we started looking at houses? Or a townhouse? Condo even, I guess. Something that’s ours. That we own together. As the Abbots.”

You pull yourself up from resting on him and blink at him for a moment, brain processing what Jack just asked. Not in a bad way, in a holy shit you can’t believe this man just asked if you wanted to buy a house together way. “You want to buy a house with me?”

Jack bites back a smile. “I want to do everything with you, Doll. Part of the reason I asked you to marry me.”

 “No! I know, I don’t doubt that or you, I’m sorry if I made it seem that way-”

“You didn’t,” Jack interrupts to quell your worry, one hand rubbing your back. “It was a very adorable reaction.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a little laugh. “I don’t know, I know it’s only like four months away, but sometimes I still can’t believe I’m going to be your wife and you’re going to be my husband. And we’re going to be the Abbots.” 

Jack squeezes your hip a bit at wife. “I get it. Sometimes I still can’t believe it either.” He lets out a bit of a sigh. “You know what would help me believe it more and make it even more real?”

“Oh I have a feeling I do,” you mutter, eyes preemptively rolling.

“Seeing you in your wedding dress.” There’s the slightest edge of hope in his voice even though Jack knows you’re not going to say yes. Doesn’t stop him from giving you his biggest puppy eyes though. 

“There it is.” You shake your head at him. “Not happening, sir.” You pause for a second. “But I do think it’s kind of cute how you keep trying.” You boop his nose and he moves his head up to playfully try and bite your finger. “To answer your question though, I would like that. A lot.” 

A slow smile spreads over Jack’s face. “Yeah?” He nods once as he says it.

“Yeah.” You nod too and lean in to kiss him. “I want to buy a house or something with you.” You run your hands through his hair and tug at his curls just slightly as you kiss him again, a little way you have of saying you love him.

“That reminds me,” Jack breathes when you break the kiss finally. “Do you want me to keep my hair this length for the wedding or get it cut shorter like I kept it when we met?”

You shrug. “It’s up to you, it’s your hair. You didn’t give me any input on my wedding hair.”

“Well no, but it’s a bit different.”

You give him a bemused smile. “I don’t think it is Peter.”

“A little.” You go to speak again but Jack beats you to it. “Your preference? Please.” He gives you a little pout. 

“Jack,” your eyes dart around his face a little trying to read him before moving up to his hair,  “you know what my preference is. But I want you to be happy and feel good more than I want my preference.” 

“Do I?” He ignores the last sentence which makes you laugh slightly. You realize something in him just wants to hear you say it right now. That you love his curls, that you prefer it at the just slightly longer length he has it now because it shows more of his curls. Just to feel close and talk about the wedding without talking about the wedding given what happened today.

“I love your curls. I prefer it at this length because it shows them off a bit more, but you’re the most attractive and handsome man I’ve ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, let alone calling mine, however you have your hair.” You run your hands through it, smiling to yourself a little without even fully realizing it. It’s a bit fluffier right now, the curls pulled out a bit from how much he must have ran his hands through his hair this shift. You love it so much. Love him so much. 

“And I love the salt and pepper. God, Jack, I really fucking love the salt and pepper.” You shift on his lap slightly, roll your ass just a little. “I love it everywhere.” You look him in the eyes and lick your lips. 

Jack’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate, cock starting to harden in his scrubs. Jack has started to go gray everywhere and you can both very easily and very clearly remember the night it first became visible enough for you to notice. He throbs just at the thought. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum as your hands find the hem of Jack’s scrub top and start pulling it off. You deliberately keep his undershirt on, love the way he looks in it alone, how tight it is against all of him. “All of it drives me insane.” Jack lifts his arms and you finish getting his scrub top off, tossing it wherever. You nuzzle your cheek against his, stubble grown out a bit since he last shaved. “Stubble too.”

You slide yourself off Jack’s lap and he whines a bit, tries to grab at your thighs to pull you back but you don’t let him. “Shh, let me do this for you, okay?” You coo at him as you move yourself to stand in front of Jack, his legs opening for you automatically. 

“Doll,” Jack breathes as you sink to your knees in between his, one hand starting to rub at his now fully hard cock over his scrub pants. “You don’t have to do this-”

“Oh I know I don’t have to, Jack. I want to. I’ve been thinking about having you in my mouth all day. So please?” You push your bottom lip out for him. “Let me help you relax, Dr. Abbot.” 

“Fuck,” Jack groans, eyes fluttering shut and head tipping back a little already. “You’re so good to me.” 

“No, I just treat you how you deserve,” you hum as your hands find the waistbands of his scrub pants and boxer briefs, eyes taking in the outline of his cock intently before you go to pull them both down at once. 

“Wait.” You pull your head back to look up at him and take your hands off his waistband. Jack grabs a pillow. “Here, put this under your knees. I know you like the bruises but you need to let the ones you have heal.”

“You’re so good to me.” You mirror his words back at him, eyes sparkling with adoration as you take the pillow from him and put it under your knees. You smirk as you return your hands to his waistband. “Just makes me want to give it to you even sloppier, Jack.”

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

“Thank you for having a late lunch with me and dropping me off at work,” Jack gives you a little smirk as you stop near the fire hydrant at the corner where the street turns into the ambulance entrance. He’s working an odd mid shift today to help cover. 2 p.m. to 2 a.m. It kind of sucks because it’s a Saturday, but you at least made the most of the morning and had a nice lunch out together. 

“Anytime, Peter. Thanks for asking.” You smile at him and set your hands on his chest as his come to rest on your hips. “Do you know what is exactly three months from today?” Your eyes sparkle as you say it. 

“Hmmm,” Jack hums, pretending to think. “The best day of my life?”

You press your lips together and smile, tilt your head at him and grab at his scrub top a little. Your eyes get just a little bit glassy because you know how much he means it. “That was really good,” you laugh. 

“I thought so.” He gives you a self-satisfied grin. “It’s true too.”

“I know,” you nod, “it’ll be the best day of mine too.” You slide your hands up around his neck and hug him, relish in the feeling of his hands sliding off your hips and around your back as he returns your hug, backpack hanging off one shoulder like always. “Have a good shift, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he nods. “You should just take an uber home.” You raise your brows at him. He glances up at the sky. “It might rain. You don’t have an umbrella. It’s not a long walk home but it’ll feel like it if it starts to rain.” 

He’s right. The clouds do look threatening but when you looked at the weather earlier it said it wasn’t going to rain until later. Hence why you didn’t bring an umbrella. “Okay.” You shrug and pull out your phone. “I’ll let you know when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack pulls you in for one last kiss, lets it linger before pulling away and squeezing your hand. He turns and walks down towards the ambulance entrance and you stay where you’re at while you order an uber.

Jack nods at Robby as he walks in, slows for a second when he hears a car honking. It’s harder to tell this far away but it’s definitely coming from the direction he just came from. It stops though and he takes a couple more steps when the sound of screeching tires, crunching metal, shattering glass, the high pressured spraying of water and screaming draws everyone’s attention. An accident right outside the ambulance bay. Good spot for it, Jack thinks until it hits him. The water. The fire hydrant. 

You’re standing on that corner. 

No, no no no. This is not fucking happening. This is so not fucking happening. It’s three months to the fucking day before your wedding. The universe cannot possibly be this cruel. 

The problem is Jack knows it can be. That it often is. 

And he knows that you were standing on that corner because of him. Because he asked you to have lunch with him and walk with him to work. Because he said you should just get an uber home and you listened to him instead of walking like you were going to. And now what? He’s going to be left with a wedding to try and cancel and a funeral to plan and wedding rings you never got to give each other and a wedding dress he never got to see you in? 

All that and a hope and a prayer Dana has a photo of you in your dress so he can see you in it just once. 

All of these thoughts go through his mind in mere seconds. Jack is panicking. Silently and for the most part stoically. He looks up at Robby for a second and Robby just knows by the look in Jack’s eye. 

Jack drops his backpack and takes off running out the door, multiple people following him. They’re all headed to help victims, anyone who might need help. Jack is headed for you and you only. He almost hopes he doesn’t see you but he knows there’s no way you got an uber and drove far enough away in the twenty or thirty seconds it took him to walk in. 

But there you are. 

Walking down from the corner towards him and calling his name and trying to reassure him already, holding your arms out a little for him as he gets to you, not sure what his instinct will be. As soon as shit had stopped flying you’d started walking quickly towards the ambulance entrance doors, taking a bit of an arc to avoid getting soaked. You knew Jack likely heard the accident and would be worried and out looking for you. 

He says your name as he gets closer to you, panting less from the short run and more from the intensifying panic. “Are you hurt? Were you hit?” Slip of the tongue there that you both catch. His hands cup your face as he looks over your face. They drop quickly though to hold so that  his eyes can trail unobstructed up and down your body almost methodically.

“I’m okay, I promise.” You grab his hands. “Jack, I’m okay. I wasn’t involved and the crash wasn’t even that bad, it sounded much worse, some guy drove straight into an empty and parked car and someone swerved to avoid him and hit the hydrant. I saw it coming and moved down the street.”

“No offense Doll but I’m okay is so the fuck not going to do it this time.” The way he says it isn’t mean or snippy or angry. It’s scared. Jack finally looks at you, really looks at you in your eyes. “You’re coming in for an exam. You could have been hit by debris, a sharp piece of headlight plastic and you’re probably having an adrenaline rush so you might not feel it and you’re in all black so I can’t get a good look at you and blood isn’t obvious. So just, you’re coming in and I’m going to look you over.”

You tilt your head a little and go to say something but stop for a second as you fully take in Jack. In addition to the sacredness in his voice you can tell  he’s panicked by how he looks physically, pupils blown wide and chest heaving. He looks like he could be sick at any moment. While you know you’re genuinely fine this time you know that Jack doesn’t and that he can’t believe you as much as he trusts you, he just can’t, not on this, not after what happened last time. You know Jack’s not going to be able to see another human being until he’s checked you over. 

“Okay.” You nod at him. 

“Doll, please don’t argue, it’s not excessive or overdramatic-”

“Jack,” you say his name and drop his hands so that you can hold his face with yours. “I said okay. Let’s go in and to a room, yeah?”

“Oh,” Jack nods. He shakes his head slightly and it’s like he comes back to. “Yeah, yeah, come on.” He wraps an arm around you as you walk towards the ambulance entrance like he’s trying to be prepared to catch you when you drop any second now. Because he is. Because Jack is convinced he’s going to get you in a room and find something wrong, some horrific injury that’s going to leave you fighting for life again. Because Jack is right back to that day, the PTSD episode taking over his mind fast and gripping him like a vise.

He grabs his bag as you walk by it, catches Dana’s eye as he opens the door to central 6 and leads you inside. She gives him a knowing nod as Jack pulls the curtain to give you privacy since the door has a window.  

You set your purse on the bed and turn to face Jack, grab the hem of your shirt and start to pull it over your head. Jack sets his backpack down and his hands find yours before you can. 

“Let me,” he whispers, eyes still a bit crazed. You move your hands and nod, lift your arms when needed so he can pull your shirt off. He tosses it over your purse and looks at you, asks a silent question with his eyes. 

You nod and Jack unhooks your bra, puts it on top of your shirt. His hands find the waistband of your pants and underwear and he kneels as he pulls them down. You rest your hands on his shoulders as you pick up one foot at a time for him to get them all the way off. Jack stands back up and sets them on top of your bra and shirt. 

It feels like you should be uncomfortable or embarrassed standing like this, naked in front of a fully dressed Jack, even though he’s seen you naked a thousand times now, showers with you all the time, and has seen you in far more compromising positions than this. And in some sense it is because you don’t have a ton of self confidence despite all of Jack’s constant praise and body worship. But it’s also not because it’s Jack and the way he looks at you and takes you in, even now for the reason he is, makes you feel like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and like he’s thinking to himself how lucky he is that you’re his and he gets to have you and see you like this. That you let him. And that is in fact what he thinks to himself. 

Jack starts with your face out of habit of looking in your eyes. A hand gently trails behind his gaze, fingers running softly over your skin, pressing just a bit like they’re looking for something. Jack just needs to feel you, feel your body and warm skin. He moves from your face down to your neck, covers it all before his eyes move to your shoulder and down your arm to your hand. 

It’s not clinical, the way he looks over your body. It could feel clinical easily given the setting and the fact that Jack is checking for injuries. But it’s not. Instead it just feels like the man who loves you is taking in every piece of you to make sure you’re unharmed. Like a man who is so in love with you that he won’t be able to function again until he’s made sure you’re uninjured is taking reassurance from you body. Like being loved.

His eyes and hand go up and down you slowly, methodically. He does the top half of your body first and then crouches to do the lower half. Not a scratch on you. Jack stands back up, kisses at a couple of your scars as he does and then your forehead and then your lips. 

Neither of you have said anything since Jack whispered to let him and you haven’t needed to, still don’t need to. He grabs your bra first, helps you get it back on then does your shirt for you. He crouches again to help you with your pants and underwear, pulls them up with you as he stands back up. You adjust your clothes and smooth them out a little as you get situated again, Jack’s eyes still trailing over your body some. 

It’s then that he looks back into your eyes. They’re normal now, his pupils aren’t dilated and he doesn’t look so out of control with worry. There’s definitely still some worry there, but not like there was. Jack starts to move just a half second or so before you, stepping closer to you and cupping the back of your head with his hand. He pulls you into a hug like that, one you were already moving to give him. His hand stays on the back of your head, moving to the side a bit as he holds your head to his chest, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you tight. You wrap your arms around him, let him hold you as tightly as he needs to and hold him back just as strong. 

Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair and smiles at the familiar scent. It helps ground him. He presses a couple of kisses to the top of your head, lets his lips linger with the last one. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers. He releases you so that you can take a step back and look at each other. But his hands stay on your waist to keep you close, thumbs brushing back and forth absentmindedly, your hands rest on his chest. “I’m sorry if I was mean out there, I hardly even remember, I was just so…” 

“You have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t mean, I promise, Jack. You were just worried. That’s okay.” You slide your hands up his chest to his neck into his hair, scratch a little. You know he loves it. “Did it help?”

He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you a bit closer again. “Yeah, thank you. For letting me. I just needed to know and see with my own eyes that nothing had happened to you.”

You smile at him. “Of course, it was a pretty easy ask.” You try to give him a little smirk to see if he’ll smile and he does, just slightly. “Jack,” you tilt your head at him, encouraging him to speak to you but not demanding it. He’s still way in his head even if he’s come down from the panic he was in.   

He lets out a long breath and sits in one of the chairs. “I was standing there and heard it and thought to myself that was a good place to crash. Right by an emergency room. And then it hit me that you were on that corner. And it was like the entire world was falling out from under me again. I was right back there in a way, it was like I was right back there.” He shakes his head a little and runs a hand through his hair. You know where he means. 

You step closer to him and he automatically opens his legs so that you can stand between them. You rest your hands on his shoulders. “That makes sense.”

Jack settles his hands on your hips and bows his head forward so that his forehead rests against your tummy. “Maybe, yeah.”

“No, not maybe.” You move your hands, one rubbing the back of his neck and the other running through his hair. “It does make sense Jack. It was a PTSD trigger even if the circumstance wasn’t exactly the same. You feared for me and my life. Of course it’s going to take you back there. And I know it’s not my fault, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’re going through this and feeling this way right now and hurting. And if there is anything I can do to help Peter, please tell me.”

Jack squeezes your hips and lifts his face a little to give your tummy a kiss. “You’re already doing it,” he mumbles against you. “Just being here and letting me look you over and talking to me.” He pulls his head from your tummy and looks up at you, cocks his head slightly. “You know?” 

“I do,” you nod. “Because you do the same for me. You heal me just by existing in this world with me.” 

The two of you share a moment of eye contact before Jack pushes his lips out. You lean down and kiss him until he pulls away. “I should get to work.”

You nod. “Probably, yeah. I actually need to talk to Dana about my last fitting so it’s good I ended up coming in.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you share a look. Jack knows that you do need to talk to Dana but that it’s not the only reason you’re staying. You’re giving him a little more time to come down with you still in his sight. “Okay. Just let me know before you go, yeah?”

“Of course.” You smile at him and give him another kiss before the two of you leave the room. After you speak with Dana you find a reason to hang around the Pitt for a while longer. You chat with everyone who’s on and gets a couple of minutes to spare, hang around the desk without being intrusive or disruptive. You can feel Jack’s eyes on you frequently as he runs around from patient to patient, nurse to nurse, doctor to doctor. The two of you share a look at some point and you can see the gratitude in his eyes even as far away as you are. 

Eventually though, you know you need to leave. You track Jack down to let him know. 

“I’m going to head home, okay?” You smile reassuringly at him. 

Jack stiffens just slightly for a second. When you rest your hands on his chest he relaxes a bit. “Yeah,” he nods, “okay, that sounds good. Make sure you get some dinner, yeah?”

“I will if you will.” You give him a knowing look. 

“You know that’s not fair.”

You give an overdramatic huff. “Fine, but please try and have dinner if you can.”

“I promise you I will try.” He pulls you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “Text me when you’re home, yeah?”

“Of course, Peter. Call if you need anything. Or text.” The two of you step apart and Jack walks you over to the doors. “I love you.” 

Jack leans down and kisses you. “I love you too.”

You try so hard to stay awake for Jack, but you slip asleep reading your book on the couch without even realizing it. You had told yourself when you laid out on the couch that you would end up falling asleep but you convinced yourself you wouldn’t because you were at such a good spot in your book. Famous last words. The book is now face down on your chest rising and falling with your steady sleeping breaths. 

Jack thinks it’s odd when he opens the door and the lights are on but you don’t say anything. You’d have heard the door. He drops his bag and takes a few steps in to see if you’re on the couch or just forgot to turn the lights off when you went to bed. Maybe you left them on for him deliberately. 

He smiles when he sees you asleep on the couch, walks over and grabs your book off your chest and marks the spot for you. You stir awake at it, blinking rapidly to clear your eyes before giving him a sleepy smile. 

“Sorry, I tried waiting up for you.”

Jack smiles wider. He loves your sleepy voice. “I can see that,” he teases. “Don’t apologize. Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

You nod and sit up. Once you’re standing Jack grabs you for a quick kiss. “Dinner is in the oven staying warm for you, bring it to bed.” You yawn a little. You rarely have to do this anymore now that Jack works days but whenever he’s covering a night or mid if you make a real meal for dinner you always leave some in the oven for him with it set to warm. It is really such a simple thing but makes Jack feel so incredibly loved and taken care of and cared about and appreciated. “The granola bar or yogurt or whatever you had stored away that you ate doesn’t qualify as dinner.” You give him a knowing look, a little bit of the edge lost with how sleepy you still seem.

“Thank you, Doll.” You just nod at him, wait for him to grab it. You both change and you sit on the bed with him while he eats, chat a bit about his shift. 

“You want to talk?” He knows you’re referencing what happened earlier today with you. “Need to?” Jack also knows you’re not pressuring him, just genuinely asking and reminding him that you’re here if he needs. 

“I’m okay, honestly. Being busy at work helped,” Jack explains once he swallows the bite he’d taken. 

When he finishes the two of you go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, wash your faces and get ready for bed. You curl up together once you’re both in bed. You wind up with Jack’s head on your chest, tangled together in the perfect position that’s comfortable for you both. “You’ll wake me if you have a nightmare?” You’re half asleep already when you ask.

“I will, promise. But I think I’ll be okay.” Jack nuzzles against your chest a little, telling you without words that the sound of your heart beating in his ear seems to keep them away. “I love you.” 

“Good. I love you too.” Your words are all sleep slurred and Jack chuckles a little. “Sleep tight Peter. Less than three months now.” 

And it’s just under two months until the wedding when Jack pushes open the trauma room door and raises his eyebrows at Robby. It’s nearing the end of their shift. “What’s up?” He’s a bit confused why Robby called him in. It’s an MVA victim and the patient, while critical and in need of further stabilization, diagnostics and treatment, isn’t circling the drain. Robby can handle this with his eyes closed. He has a great team running it with him too. So Jack is confused why Perlah came running to grab him. “You’ve got this-”

“Jack, it’s Leah’s sister.” Robby’s voice shakes as he says it. 

“Oh fuck.” Jack doesn’t need Robby to say anything more. He goes to grab a gown and gloves and jumps in, displacing a new intern. 

“We can’t lose her Jack, we cannot fucking lose her.” Robby’s shaking his head as he finishes intubating her. “I can’t talk to her fucking parents again.” 

Jack finishes off a chest tube and after a minute Jesse yells out a new round of vitals. They’re strong as she stabilizes further, strong enough that Jack can take a second. 

“Robby,” Jack calls to him but Robby doesn’t look over, just starts moving to do something else. “Michael!” That gets Robby to look up and Jack catches his gaze. “We’re not going to.” Robby’s frenetic anxiety has made the entire room far too wired. “Okay everyone stop!” Jack isn’t mean about it, but it’s firm. There’s no room to argue or do anything but stop. “She’s stable for now so everyone take a breath.” Jack is still looking Robby in the eyes. Everyone takes a breath and lets it out. “Alright,” Jack nods, “let’s go.” 

Jack is right. They don’t lose her. She stabilizes nicely and gets admitted and taken upstairs. Robby tries to talk to her parents but Jack doesn’t let him. He’s not sure where Robby went off to, but he can guess. 

He calls you first quickly. You answer on the second ring. “Hi! Sorry I was turning the bath on to soak, so it took me a sec to get to my phone.” Jack smiles to himself at you explaining as if you needed to. “You have nothing to apologize for, Doll. I just wanted to let you know that I’m finally fucking off but it’s going to be a bit still.”

There’s an edge to Jack’s voice that concerns you. It’s almost like he’s had a bad day but not quite. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’m okay, I promise.” He lets out a sigh, rubs his free hand over his face. “Robby had a MVA victim today. Leah’s sister.” 

“Oh fuck.” You walk over and turn the bath off. 

Jack lets out a little laugh at that. “Yeah. Robby called me in and told me it was her and I said the exact same thing. She made it. She should be fine, she’s admitted upstairs. I spoke with her parents this time.”

“Robby’s not though.” Your heart aches for him. It’s around that time of year too. You weren’t around for Pitt Fest, but Jack has told you pretty much everything at some point or another. 

“Robby’s not though.” Jack confirms. “I’m pretty sure he’s up on the roof. I’m going to go talk to him and then some people are going to the park now, I’m going to try and get him to go to see how he is.” 

“Okay, Peter,” you murmur.

Jack knows the sadness lacing your voice isn’t because he’s just called you to let you know he’ll be home even later than he already texted you he’d be. It’s because you’re sad for Robby. That empathetic heart of yours is something he loves about you so much, but he knows it means you feel real emotional distress at times. “He’ll be okay.”

“No, I know, I just… wish I could make it better for him.”

“I know you do Doll. I do too. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod even though he can’t see you. “Jack?” You say it before he can start to say goodbye,

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s really hard watching your best friend hurt. I’m here, okay?” You chew on your lip a little. You know it hurts Jack to see Robby struggling and vice versa. 

“I know you are. Thank you.” You can hear the smile in Jack’s voice. “I love you and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.”

“Okay, love you too.” 

Robby is exactly where Jack expects to find him. “You’re not allowed to jump off the roof,” Jack calls to Robby as he walks over to where he stands beyond the guard rails. 

“Jack, I really don’t want to do this again. It’s too much déjà vu for one day.” His voice is steady at least. He’s not crying or near tears. Jack takes that as a positive. He gets closer and leans against the guard rails near Robby.

“We don’t have to do anything. But you knew I was going to come up here to find you,” he says pointedly. Robby tries to shake his head at first but ends up giving him a nod. Jack can tell Robby really doesn’t want to come apart here again. He gets it. “I’m serious. Can’t have my officiant jumping off the roof. Especially not this close to the wedding.” 

That at least gets a huff of laughter from Robby. He lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know Jack.” Robby turns and ducks back under the guard rails and stands next to Jack. “It was years ago,” Robby laughs and runs a hand through his hair, “but right now it feels almost like that night.” 

“Yeah,” Jack nods slowly. “That’s PTSD for you.”

“I recognized her.” Robby looks over at Jack. “They looked so alike. But I couldn’t place her. And then someone was going through her stuff and read her name and it hit me at the last name. Leah’s sister. I felt fucking awful that I didn’t recognize her. I should have. Shouldn't have forgotten. And then it was just like I can’t lose her. I can’t do that to her parents again. And I should be over it, and it shouldn’t fuck with me this much still.”

Jack lets the words hang there for a minute, in part to see if Robby will say anything else. “First,” he starts, “should is a stupid word.” That earns him a look from Robby that Jack waves off for later. “Second, she wasn’t Leah. You shouldn’t have recognized her. They looked similar, yes, but still. You’d never seen her before, had you?” Robby shakes his head. “Then how would you have known? I get the not losing her thing. And even if you hadn’t called me in you wouldn’t have. You’re a good doctor, Michael. Leah was effectively DOA, you know that.” 

Robby takes in a big breath and lets it out. “Yeah.” He shrugs. “Still.” It’s whispered and Jack knows Robby’s getting close to his limit. 

“I know. Come on, let’s go to the park. Even just for one.” Robby grimaces at Jack. “It’ll be good for you.”

Robby gives Jack a look that says he doesn’t believe him but nods anyway and they head down, sit on their usual bench. It’s much livelier than it had been when Jack thinks back on the night of Pitt Fest. More people. 

Everyone chats and laughs but Jack can read Robby and knows it’s all fake, all forced and shallow. It’s unsurprising but Leah’s sister hit him hard. Jack wonders when the last time he spoke to Jake was. 

After what can only be five or so minutes Garcia smirks and looks over at Jack. “Your girl decided to join us?”

Jack’s brows furrow together in genuine confusion before his eyes follow Garcia’s. Sure enough, there you are, in leggings and one of Jack’s oversized sweatshirts you’ve stolen. Jack tilts his head as he gets up and walks towards you, reaching you before you hit the group. His heart rate ticks up a little. 

“Hey,” he calls to you before he reaches you, his hands wrapping lightly around your upper arms when you’re close enough, eyes starting to move over you. “You okay? Did something happen?” 

You melt a little inside. He’s so protective and caring. You know some of it stems from trauma but he was like this with you before you were shot. You bring your hands up and squeeze Jack’s forearms softly. “I’m okay, promise. I didn’t come for Pitt services.”

Jack believes you but he can’t help the way his eyes give you one last scan. The way they linger at your torso doesn’t escape you. “Okay, good.” He releases your arms and you his as he pulls you in for a hug, kisses the top of your head. “So why are you here? Not that I’m not thrilled to see you or that you can’t come see me randomly.”

You separate a little so you can look at each other. “I don’t know. I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Robby shouldn’t be alone. As long as you’re okay and don’t need my undivided attention.” Your eyes flit around Jack’s face as you look for any signs he does. “I love Robby, but you always come first.” 

Jack smiles at you and shakes his head slightly before leaning in to give you a kiss. It’s chaste, there’s no tongue or real movement, he just lets it linger to communicate how much he loves you and appreciates you. “I’m okay.” He looks you in your eyes like he loves. “I promise.” 

You nod. You believe him, know he is. “Good.” The two of you exchange small smiles and agree on the plan without speaking a word of it. It’s just intuitive. Jack swallows hard because you’re so good not just to him, but everyone in his life. 

Jack laces his hand in yours and walks you over to the bench with him. You greet everyone, smile and nod at Robby as you sit down by Jack. You aren’t there long before Robby stands up and says he’s going to head out, starts walking. 

“You ready?” Jack asks you. You nod at him, both of you saying your goodbyes. 

You don’t wait for Jack though as he finishes saying goodbye. Instead you walk quickly to catch up with Robby. 

“Robby!” You call out as you get close. He stops of course, turns to look at you, is about to ask if something is wrong. “Come to ours.” 

He raises an eyebrow and takes a deep breath in as he gives a single nod, grimaced smile pulling up on his face. Jack told you at some point. He’s not mad about it.

“That’s very kind, but I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” He starts to turn to walk again but you follow beside him. 

“I don’t know that I believe you that you are fine, and it’s okay not to be.” You give him a little look when he looks over at you. “Even if you are, you don’t have to work towards being okay alone.” 

Robby’s steps slow. “It’s okay, honestly.” He sounds much more emotional now but also like he doesn’t know what to do with the offer for some help. “I’m sure Jack would like some alone time to decompress.” He’s trying to deflect. 

“I spoke to Jack before I offered, he’s okay with it.” The two of you are standing again. “Well it’s less of an offer at this point and more me telling you. You shouldn’t be alone and I know you well enough at this point Robby to know that you don’t want to be. So come to ours.” You grab a fistful of the sleeve of his sweatshirt. You know you have him and don’t need to say more but you give him another reason. His favorite thing you bake. “Let’s go. I’ll make you white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies.”

You don’t wait for him to say anything, just tug at him by his sleeve and turn around, start walking over to a waiting Jack. Robby doesn’t protest, walks by your side. 

“She’s persuasive isn’t she?” Jack smirks as you approach. 

“She grabbed my sweatshirt and started pulling, I’m not sure if that’s persuasion.” 

“I said I’d make him white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies,” you tell Jack as you release Robby’s jacket and lace your fingers through Jack’s outstretched hand. 

“You better,” Robby huffs as he smooths out the creases your hand had caused in the sleeve of his jacket. The attitude is all fake. 

“Or what, you won’t marry us?” you fire back, largely to distract him. 

“Ha!” Jack laughs loudly which makes you join in. Even Robby has to as much as he tries not to. 

“I am a woman of my word, thank you very much. I will make you the cookies.”  

It’s not a long walk to your and Jack’s place. You kick off your shoes and walk in as both men drop their bags and get their own shoes off. You’re in the kitchen by the time they come to find you, assembling supplies and ingredients. 

You glance up at them as they walk in. “Shower. Both of you. If you want. But also do it.” You look at Robby. “There’s a clean towel on the guest bed for you, and I put a pair of Jack’s pajama pants and a shirt on the bed for you too. There should be stuff in the shower but just yell if you need something that isn’t in there.” 

Jack’s standing a little behind Robby and staring at you. It’s one of those moments where he really thinks you’re too good not just for him but for the world. You did all of this after getting off the phone with him, planned for it, came to see him, yes, but also to check on Robby and silently ask Jack whether Robby needed this, to not be alone. All because Robby is his best friend. You and Robby are close in the sense that he’s Jack’s brother effectively and so you know him well and most everything about him and love him like family, but you’re not best friends. This is something you’re doing for Robby, yes of course, but also for Jack and he knows it. Jack catches your eye and mouths he loves you. The smile you give him says you love him too.

“I will, uh. Thank you.” Robby gives you a small nod, both he and Jack walking down the hall to their respective rooms. 

While they shower you order a pizza and start on the cookies. The dough doesn’t take too long to make and you have it blast chilling in the freezer and grab the pizza from the delivery guy and have it on the counter by the time Jack comes out and finds you in the kitchen. “Hi.” He wraps his arms around you from behind and hunches a bit so he can kiss at your neck.

“Hi.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. “You okay? Nice shower?”

Jack lets his lips stay against your neck. “I’m good, Doll. And it was okay.” He kisses his way up to your jaw. “Would have been better if you’d been in it with me.” 

You giggle, turn your face more so that you can share a real kiss. “Tomorrow. I promise.” Jack hums, loosen his grip around you when you go to turn all the way. You run a hand through his still wet hair. You really do love that he’s keeping his just slightly longer now all the time. “I love your hair,” you sigh, tilt your head at him. Ever since France he’s been keeping it that centimeter or so longer. He doesn’t have a huge preference and you’ve made it clear just how much you love it like this. And he does too with how feral it can make you and how it lets you tug on it even harder when he’s got his between your legs or is fucking you. 

Jack lets out a laugh through his nose. “You know I’ve picked up on that.” You tell him you love his hair all the time, play with it all the time, run your hands through it. You love his curls and the salt and pepper. He teases you all the time that you’re the reason for the increasing amount of salt. 

“I’m jealous.” 

“Picked up on that too,” Jack laughs. “You got us pizza?”

“Mhm, I knew the chances of either of you having eaten something substantial were slim to none.” You give him a soft smile. 

He loves you so much. The way you anticipate his needs, seem to think of everything. He’d love you as much as he does even if you didn’t, but you do. Jack tilts his head and leans in for a kiss, this one far less chaste than any you’ve had since parting for the day much earlier this morning. Jack starts to deepen the kiss even more, push you into the counter a little as he gets closer and you let him, scratch at his scalp to make him groan. 

The shutting of the guest room door startles you both and ends the kiss. Jack whines softly as he leans his forehead against yours. “Eat, Jack.” You poke his tummy softly. He grumbles a little but kisses your forehead and walks over to the box of pizza, grabs a slice. “You too,” you tell Robby once he walks back into the kitchen. “Eat.”

Robby looks over at the pizza and nods. “Thank you.” 

Jack opens the fridge once he finishes his first slice and pulls out two beers. “Doll?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“No, I’m okay but thank you for asking.” He nods at you and takes the tops of both, hands Robby one and grabs another slice of pizza, as does Robby. You’re all mostly quiet as they eat, grabbing more slices when they finish one, and you take the dough out and scoop it out onto some cookie sheets. You give both of them a look when they each grab a little dough out of the bowl to eat. 

Jack and Robby move into the living room while you finish and get the cookies in the oven, a timer set. You follow them into the living room, just for now. You’ll give them some time together once the cookies are done. 

The two sit at opposite ends of the couch, both leaning on the armrests a bit. You sit right next to Jack, feet curled up almost under you and lean back into him a little. “Tell her what you said on the roof.” You look back over your shoulder with your brows slightly furrowed at Jack. “You’ll see, just wait.” Robby’s brows are even more furrowed than yours. He has no idea what Jack means or what part of the conversation he’s referring to. “About being over it.” 

“Oh,” Robby runs a hand through his hair and looks at you. “I should have recognized her and I didn’t. I should be over it. It shouldn’t fuck with me this much this far out. And normally it doesn’t, but today it sure fucking did.” 

You nod as soon as he says the word, squeeze Jack’s hand. “Should is a stupid word.” 

Robby lets out a little laugh. “So I’ve been told.” 

“I didn’t tell him the rest,” Jack informs you. “I think hearing it would benefit him though.”

“You could have told him.”

“Yeah, but I like hearing you say it. And it seemed like something that would be more convincing tonight coming from you.” Jack runs his hand up and down your thigh now. 

You nod, look at Robby, catch his eyes so that you’re really looking at each other. “Should is a stupid word,” you repeat. “Nothing should or shouldn’t be. Things just are. And it’s okay for them to be as they are. It’s okay for this to be as it is. It’s still going to fuck with you, Robby. Some days more so than others. And no fucking shit it did today. It was her sister, in your trauma room. You’ve gotta give yourself some grace.” 

Robby is quiet, has to look away from you as he thinks. But you saw how glassy his eyes grew, how close to tears he was before he looked away. Jack knows he isn’t sure how to respond to that. So he moves the conversation forward a bit. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

Robby takes in a deep breath through his nose and holds it for a second before letting it out as he shakes his head. “Couple of months. Four or five maybe.” He clears his throat to try and get rid of some of the emotion, takes a sip of his beer. Jack shifts slightly so he’s a bit more turned, can rest his hand on the top of your thigh. “He just doesn’t want to talk. He’s still mad. I think at least. Sometimes I feel like it’s something else but can never figure out what. Talk about it in therapy every now and then, but there’s not much left to say.” Robby swallows thickly, sets his beer down. 

You and Jack are both quiet for a moment. You’re trying to read both Robby and Jack, trying to see if further input from you is wanted or if this is a shut up and listen moment, or something Robby is telling Jack for later, when they’re alone. 

Jack can damn near hear you thinking and squeezes your thigh. He’s sure Robby needs to hear whatever it is you have to say. You shift down the couch a little, sit a bit closer to Robby, fully facing him on the couch with your legs crossed under you. You grab his hand and hold it. Not like you hold Jack’s but like you hold the hand of a friend you’re comforting.

“Sometimes you don’t think he’s mad anymore. Sometimes you convince yourself he’s not mad anymore. I think, maybe, instead you think he’s over it, or as over it as he’ll ever get and he’s just done with you.” You let out a small breath as Robby squeezes your hand hard. All three of you know that you’re right. “You think he has gotten used to you not being there, has moved on from you and doesn’t want you to be in his life anymore. You think he’s no longer angry and grieving and confused and struggling. You think he just doesn’t need or want you. And the thought that he just doesn’t need or want you hurts much more than him blaming you for her death ever did. Because he’s a son to you. And so the thought that he just doesn’t need or want you anymore is the pain of losing a child in a way, Michael. You’ve gotta try and let yourself feel that.” 

Robby looks at you. “Holy fuckin shit.” He’s stricken and you know it’s an uncomfortable realization but if life and therapy have taught you one thing it’s that sometimes having words, knowing how to say what you’re feeling, is helpful, makes it better, no matter how hard those words are to say or hear. “You… I…” Robby drops his head, takes his hand back from you so that he can hold his face in his hands.

“I know,” you murmur. You scoot just a bit closer and wrap your arms around him from the side, rest your head on the back of his shoulder and just hold him in the hug as he finally starts to cry. 

Robby drops one hand from his face and holds onto your arm that’s across his chest, just as something, someone to ground him. He never has this, never has someone with him when he’s like this except for maybe occasionally his therapist and every so often Jack. And you’re offering him this platonic affection and comfort of a hug and so Robby lets himself have it. 

You don’t say anything or move. Just hug him silently. Jack watches the two of you and thinks about how funny it is that he’s always thinking there’s no way he could love you more and then you do something, something like this, and somehow he does. 

The timer for the cookies goes off around the time Robby starts to calm down so you take your arms back and get off the couch, give Jack a quick kiss before going to the kitchen. You get the cookies on the cooling rack and fan at them a bit so they set up enough for you to get them on a plate, take them into the living room. 

Robby and Jack have sat quietly together while you’re gone to give Robby some more time to collect himself. You set the plate on the middle of the couch between them. “I’m going to bed, but come get me if you need anything. There’s more cookies in there too, if you run out.” 

You step a little closer to Robby off to the side and lean over, run a hand over his hair and hold the back of his head while you kiss the top of his head off to the side. You move over to Jack, stand between his legs and lean down for a proper kiss, hold his face in your hands. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips, smiling. 

“I love you more.” He wraps his hands around your wrists and gives you another kiss, another few, honestly, Robby still so out of it he doesn’t even make a comment or fake a gag. You giggle a little and give him one last one before pulling away and heading into bed.

“She’s right,” Robby admits once your bedroom door closes. He grabs a cookie, so does Jack.

Jack takes a sip of beer and nods. “She usually is.”

Robby shakes his head and rubs his face with his hand, takes in a deep breath. “I never know what to think with him, Jack. Sometimes we text and it feels so normal. Other times it feels like he’s sending answers because he feels he has to and like it’ll end the conversation faster. Sometimes we do frequently, a couple of days in a row and then this. We go months.”

“When’s the last time you spoke on the phone? Or facetimed or whatever?”

Robby has to think about it, grabs another cookie while he does. “His birthday. He answered when I called. It was short, but he answered. That was like nine months ago.”

Jack raises his eyebrows to himself as he grabs another cookie. Nine months is a long time. He’s not judging Robby, at all. It’s just a long time and he knows how much it must kill Robby. 

“She got married,” Robby says quietly. 

“Janey?” Jack’s kind of surprised by the news but he doesn’t really know why. 

“Yeah.” Robby shrugs. “So he really doesn’t need me,” Robby tries to laugh, “he has someone else, someone who didn’t kill his girlfriend.”

“You didn’t kill his girlfriend Robby. And I have a lot of doubt that some guy his mom married when he was over 18 has replaced you.” Jack finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle on the end table. “Jake loves you, a lot.” Jack shakes his head as Robby starts to interrupt him, grabs a cookie and shoves it at him to try and keep him from talking. “No, don’t tell me he doesn’t. I saw him that day before he left, I saw how he looked at you. He might have been mad at you, might have hated you in a way, but he loved you when he left the hospital Michael.”

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” Robby sniffles. “Even if he loves me and I haven’t been replaced and even if he needs me,” Robby shrugs. “He still doesn’t want me. And not wanting me wins over the rest and I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jack sits up a little and lets out a breath. “Have you tried asking him if he wants to do something together, in person, since he started talking to you again?” It had taken six or seven months for Jake to respond to Robby’s texts after Pitt Fest. He gave Robby the coldest of shoulders at Leah’s funeral, almost looked mad he was there.

“No. Why would I? He doesn’t want to and then it just makes it awkward for him to have to try and find a way to say no.” Robby shakes his head, finishes his own beer and sets it to the side. “I don’t want to put him through anymore than I already have.” He grabs another cookie.

“But maybe he does want to, Robby. He’s still a kid, even though he’s over 18 and it happened when he was 17.” Jack catches Robby’s gaze. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to text or call first or maybe he doesn’t know how to ask you to do something or be back in his life and have things be like they were before Pitt Fest because he thinks he hurt you too bad and doesn’t know how to apologize and can’t imagine you ever forgiving him. Maybe he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe he’s hurting just as bad as you are and maybe he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

Robby’s gaze falls from Jack’s and Jack can tell he’s thinking. Jack can tell he’s hoping. 

“I don’t,” Robby starts but then stops, shakes his head a little. “You think?”

Jack shrugs. “I think it’s a possibility, yeah. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Robby nods. He grabs another cookie and Jack sits with him in silence.

“I think I need to sleep on it,” Robby finally says. 

Jack nods. “That’s a good plan.” Jack knows that’s also Robby’s somewhat subtle way of ending the conversation. Jack stands up and grabs his bottle, holds his hand out for Robby’s. “You taking those to bed with you?”

Robby rolls his eyes as he stands up and grabs the plate and follows Jack into the kitchen. “No, just a couple.” Jack snorts a laugh as Robby grabs some and a paper towel. He gets the rest of the cookies and those left on the plate in a ziploc and sets them on the counter in front of Robby. Robby tilts his head at him. 

“She made them for you. So they’re yours.” Jack shrugs as he walks out of the kitchen towards your room. “I hope you don’t get too many nightmares tonight,” Jack calls back to Robby. It’s his way of saying sleep well because Jack more than most people understands what sleeping is like after a PTSD episode.

You’re asleep on Jack’s pillow when he walks in, he’s just able to make out your form in the darkness. He heads to the bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. 

Jack slips in behind you, bare chest pressing into your back as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you even closer. You stir, push yourself back into him as you take in a breath. “Hi Peter,” you mumble. Your sleepy voice is so precious and adorable Jack swears he has to stop himself from biting your shoulder. 

“Hi Doll, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers back, kisses the side of your face. 

“Wasn’t sleeping hard, trying to wait for you. Didn’t work,” you let out a little sleepy laugh that turns into a yawn. You can feel the vibrations of Jack’s chest when he chuckles at you. 

He squeezes you a little for a second and then fully settles behind you. “Thank you. For doing this for Robby.”

You hum softly. “Course. Robby’s family, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Still. Not every girlfriend or fiancée or wife would do this, even for family. I know it’s been a long week for you and that you’ve missed me and Robby coming over meant we wouldn’t get much one on one with each other tonight.” Jack kisses at your neck. “You didn’t have to. Do any of it. Show up or get him to come over or get pizza or make cookies or talk to him.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. For him and you. Even with as much as I wanted it to just be us tonight. He needed to not be alone.” You give another little yawn, smack your lips a little. “And what can I say?” It’s a little sleep slurred. “Guess I’m not every girlfriend or finacée or wife.” Jack’s arm is still draped over you and you grab his hand, bring it up and kiss haphazardly at his knuckles. “Just yours.” 

Jack nuzzles his nose against your neck and kisses there. “You’re not just anything.” Hearing you say you’re his always gets to him and he can feel himself filling out a bit, especially with your ass pressed back into him. “But you are mine, yes,” Jack confirms. He feels your breathing start to slow and even out as you fall back asleep. “And I’m yours.”

A week later you and Jack are laying in bed reading and intermittently chatting. It’s Friday and it has been a long fucking week for you. Working late and going in early and barely taking lunch and just constantly busy. And it’s all been particularly emotionally draining. 

“Are you having anyone walk you down the aisle?”

That question makes you pause, sit up a bit stiffly and look up from your book. Somehow during all of the planning it never occurred to you. “I… don’t know I guess.” You shake your head as you look over at Jack.

He shrugs. “I just wondered. You don’t need to have it figured out right now, there’s still time.” 

“Yeah.” You nod to yourself. But you stay sitting up and stiff. Jack watches you out of the corner of his eye and glances at you every now and then, hoping you’ll relax and go back to reading. He hadn’t meant to upset you or cause you stress or anxiety, but he realizes now with how exhausted and emotionally zapped you are from the week your brain has been looking for a reason to spiral and he just unknowingly at the time handed you one. 

He sets his book down on his lap. “Hey.” You look over at him and Jack can almost see the dizziness you’re feeling in your eyes from how fast your thoughts are churning in your head. “You don’t need to know right now, okay? You don’t need to decide tonight. There’s seven weeks still. You have time.” 

“No, I know.” You nod at him. And you do know. Jack watches you carefully. “I’m just thinking now.” You slip out of bed and start to pace. Jack chides himself mentally for his comment even though he knows he didn’t deliberately give you something to spiral about, he still hates the fact that he did. “It’s going to be so much attention on me. On us.” You look up at him as you pace. “At the altar. Walking down the aisle, like everyone is going to be looking at me and what if I fall? And then the first dance and cutting the cake and like we have to say our vows in front of everyone and what if I just like forget how to read.” It would be funny if it weren’t causing you such real distress. Jack’s eyes stay on your face so he can try to read your expression as you pace at the foot of the bed. “Maybe we should downsize the wedding, maybe that would be better and then there wouldn’t be so many people.” 

“Downsize the wedding,” Jack repeats, very obviously confused to an extent because you’d discussed this together when you started planning and were deciding how big you wanted your guest list. He’s about 95% sure this is anxiety and exhaustion talking, but he wants to hear you out of course, wants to help and that means listening and asking questions so he fully understands you.  “In what way?” 

“Yeah, like what if we just didn’t have a big wedding? Just like a handful of people, maybe less.” You walk over and sit facing him on the edge of his side of the bed. “Or like you know,” you shrug, “what if we just flew to Vegas tomorrow and eloped?”

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

I know that’s like a little baby kind of cliff-hanger but I felt like I had to keep it interesting I’m sorry! 😭 I hope it was otherwise okay! I did not feel particularly great about any of this but it's hard to know if that means something or is just how I always feel lol. Part 5 and the wedding will be here soon!!

If you made it this far, seriously thank you, I know it's a lot to read and I appreciate you taking your time to read, I know how precious time to yourself can be so I am very grateful. I would love to hear your thoughts and comments!

Part 5 is up!

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[friskalicousbiscuits]

Neglected The Mask!reader x platonic Yan!Batfam

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

I’d also like to say this Reader is Gender Neutral or at least you can pick your gender. Most of the pronouns are “you” and when they are referred to by other people, its “they” so… Yeah! Have fun reading and tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or things that don’t make sense.

Chapter One

The night you’d found the mask, had been a cold one. A bitter one. It was just an all around crappy-feelings-fest of a night.

You’d left home. The pressure in that house was too suffocating for you to stay in it any longer. The walls were too high, your room felt too isolated, the floors were too clean, the windows were being pelted by rain, and the sound of said rain felt like jackhammers in your skull. But worst of all? Damian was hogging the TV so you couldn’t watch the adult swim old cartoon reruns.

So you left.

It wasn’t like it was hard. No one was really home besides you, Alfred, and Damian so no one stopped you. Well, besides Ace. The dog padded over to you as you were about to leave. You gave him a few pats and told him you’d be back in a couple hours.

That was how you were here now. On Gotham’s Harbor, sat at the end of one of its shabby wooden piers, listening to the calming sound of harsh waves slamming into boats. You didn’t really mean to come here. You’d just picked a direction that seemed to draw you in and soon, you were leading (or were you being led?) yourself to the harbor. It was still raining. You were soaked head to toe and were sure to have a fever by tomorrow.

You found yourself not minding that fact.

Your eyes drifted to the few boats docked at the other piers. Barnacle-bottomed with chipped paint was the standard look for most of them. They looked worn, and if boats could have feelings, you’d guess they were probably tired.

You were tired too.

You were always tired. Since you were about fifteen, you’ve been in a bunch of clubs and stuff. It was exhausting, but you also didn’t want to go back to the manor, a place you don’t feel welcomed, immediately after school. Damian being there, while still scary, is something you could deal with.

But Jason?

The man pops in unannounced and randomly. Just the thought of him potentially being there makes you stay away from the manor extra late. You don’t ever want to be near him again. Not after that night. Not after he almost killed you. And speaking of the man, he was there. He’d been forced into staying for a family dinner. Something you wanted no part as long as he was there.

You pulled out your phone to check the time. The light nearly blinded you. You hunched over it so the harsh rain wouldn’t pelt it too.

9:37pm

Said family dinner should be in progress right about now. And would you look at that? Not a single call or text massage. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It almost made you want to chuck your phone into the water, but… well, it’s your phone and it has all your doggy pictures of Ace in cute outfits. You couldn’t bear to part with it.

Instead, you turned it off, shoved it back into your pocket, and went back to staring at the waves.

Y’know, if you ignored the hammering rain and the fact these waves could topple a grown man, this was almost peaceful!

Your eyes drifted down to now watching the murky water as it swooshed and splashed back and forth. You were praying no bigger waves came. Gotham’s water was practically radioactive. You don’t want aids from getting Gotham water on you. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket after all.

You brought your knees closer to your chest and hugged them tighter. You definitely should’ve. You’re not only soaked but extremely cold from all the wind sweeping around. Any gust felt like getting freezer burn, and you weren’t a long forgotten package of peas at the bottom of a freezer.

You should probably go home n—

What is that?

You squinted at the murky water. It’s dirtiness, plus all the motion from the waves was making it hard to tell but… was something glowing underneath the water?

James Gordon - Police Commissioner POV

Jim was not having a good night. The Joker had broken out of Arkham again. And was wreaking havoc again. Currently, Jim and other officers were crouched behind their vehicles and using them as cover to shoot at the bastards. Not only that, but it was raining cats and dogs all of a sudden. The storm had come out of nowhere in the middle of the shootout!

And to think the day had started off well too. Barbara had come to visit and even brought Jim those donuts he liked. Not only had he had to leave his donut at the precinct, which would probably be stolen by that food thief who thinks he’s slick, but now he was in a shootout!

To recap the situation, Joker had gathered his goons in Old Gotham to rob and steal like the no good crooks they are. As for any civilians caught outside and nearby? Well, not only were they robbed, but they were also held down and forcibly injected with a new strand of Joker Venom.

And… while all that was horrible, it also didn’t make sense. Joker doesn’t really do daylight robberies like this. If he’d needed money, he’d simply kidnap a class of school children and sell them off. So why would he do all of this?

Jim got his answer in the form of the formerly spasming victims of Joker Venom suddenly getting up to join the chaos. As usual, hair was tinged green, skin was bleached, and smiles were stretched from one ear to the other. But this was different. The Joker would point to a shop and they’d all follow. To a person and they’d run to tackle. To anything and they’d respond with tearing at it like piranhas and running to their leader to give him their spoils.

Are you fucking kidding him right now?

The Joker has finally gotten around to using mind control?

You might as well fuck Jim in the ass.

The commissioner paused his shooting at goons and henchmen and grabbed the walkie-talkie attached to his coat. He needed to radio the precinct and have them turn it on.

He needed the Bat-Signal.

It was dark out, so it should reflect on the sky, but the bats normally came out after eleven. He’d just have to hope one of them would see.

You continued staring at the water. The rain started falling harder unbeknownst to you. Your shoulders and back were both numb from the constant harshness of the rain and cold. The rain falling harder made the water rougher and stronger, waves slamming into the docks and piers with more force.

The glowing was getting brighter and brighter. So much so that you felt it start to illuminate your face. A flash of something green tore through your mind as a bolt of lighting could be heard nearby. A shadow slowly rose over you.

You slowly looked up.

Uh oh.

A gigantic wave was looming over you. Your eyes widened.

You really couldn’t catch a break, could you?

It slammed into you with what was probably the force of a bull. It shattered the shabby wooden pier you’d been sitting on. And when it started to recede, it dragged you under the water.

Oh God! AIDS water!

You struggled desperately as the water tugged and shoved you around like a ragdoll. Everytime you would just barely break the surface and get the tiniest gulp of air, another wave would come and slam you back down.

Was it your imagination, or were the waves getting stronger and stronger?

Another wave slammed into you and shoved your head back under the water. You felt your brain rattle from the force as it sent you deeper in the water. You had neither the chance to close your eyes nor mouth. You tried not to think about the fact you’d swallowed a little bit of it.

It burned your throat on the way down.

You didn’t think you’d be able to see anything underwater. Like you’d said multiple times, it was murky. Yet, below you could see the glowing object from before. It was still a blob due to the fact you were underwater but you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to it. Something was compelling you to.

Another harsh wave wracked the surface above, pushing you forward slightly towards the object. Then, it pulled you back when it receded. For some reason, you needed to see this object. You needed it. You needed to touch it. Hold it.

Put it on.

What? Put on what? The blob?

Your hand closed around a part of the blob. It seemed that despite your blurry vision, the blob, wasn’t in fact a blob. It felt wooden and thin. You hands turned it around as you moved it closer to face so you could just get a better look. Thats all.

If you tried really hard, you could ignore the—

Put it on.

Put it on.

Put it on.

—that keeps repeating in your head.

You brought it closer and closer. The shimmer that you once thought was green was now purplish on the side you’d turned the blob over to see. When it got close enough, you felt your skin start to pull itself towards the blob— the mask, now that you could see the eye and mouth holes better. At the sensation of the pulling, you tried to pull away but it was too strong.

It stuck itself to your face as you clawed at it, thrashing and struggling. Water left your lungs in a panic. You could feel it closing around your head, sinking into your skin, merging with your face. You began to spin, underneath the water, still desperately clawing.

From there, you blacked out.

James Gordon - Police Commissioner POV

Jim and the other officers were still in a shootout. Now though, the Joker had taken out a couple cars, and by extension people, with some rocket launchers he’d gotten when more of his goons came to help.

A shot whizzed past Jim’s head and took out one of his rearview mirrors. He peaked around his car once more and fired his gun a couple more times until he ran out of ammo before ducking behind his cover once more.

Shit, where are the bats?

He peaked around the car again, but ducked again when he heard a… “what in the world?” …from a female officer next to him. He looked to her and saw that she was looking up. When he also looked up, he saw a spinning something soaring through the sky.

What in the world indeed.

From what Jim could make out, it was green and white and had hints of either pink or red from what he could see. He and the officer next to him watched as it continued to spin through the air. It was about to land in the middle of the shootout. Just what was it? Something from the bats? No, they don’t use color, it must’ve been something from the Joker.

“Shit.” Jim cursed under his breath.

It eventually landed with a loud crash, body sticking up out of the ground, stiff as a board. Its head was buried into the road as its arms stood stiff at its side, seemingly unaffected by gravity. It showed no signs of struggle.

Was it knocked out? Dead? If it was from the Joker, Jim prayed it was dead.

The two sides ceased their shooting to stare at the person(?) sticking out of the ground still. Now that it wasn’t spinning nor high up in the air, Jim got a better look at it. It was wearing a white, three piece suit with a red polkadot pattern consistent on every single scrap of fabric the…

Gentleman? Gentlewoman? Gentleperson?

…it was hard to tell, wore. Though, Jim could just barely make out that their tie was black.

It suddenly fell over. It didn’t move for a minute longer until it suddenly shot up straight to it feet. It had a wide grin similar to the Joker’s as it adjusted its lapels. “It’s good to be back!” They exclaimed as it whirled around taking in the sights. When Jim blinked they were in a full tourist outfit. Flamingo printed shirt, khaki shorts, and a camera around its neck, taking pictures of everything. They even snapped a couple of the Joker, who it’d conveniently landed next to, saying, “Glad to know jesters are still around!”

Jim blinked again and they were back in the polkadots. They were also shaking hands with the Joker. Holy Cow, that person is tall! They were good head over the Joker and even then the Joker pretty tall himself. “Pleased to meet you, good sir. Could you direct me to the nearest bank? I’m running a little low on cash.”

Their grins were uncannily similar.

“Sorry to say, but I’ve already plundered all the nearby banks, my colorful friend.” The Joker’s eyes narrowed despite the grin. Judging by the man’s tone, he was annoyed by something.

But what is the question?

“Oh, that’s a shame.” The green-masked person sighed, hunching in on themself. They then grabbed the Joker and started dancing with him. Full blown tango. The unexpectedness seemed to make the Joker laugh and the man joined in. They danced around, Joker going back to shooting any of Jim’s colleagues that had let their guard down and stood up to watch the scene fully. Any bullets aimed back at them were swiftly tango-ed away from or crushed against the green-faced one. It seemed they were bulletproof.

The shoot out picked up from there. Soon, goons and officers were taken out one by one until only few were remaining. By then, the dancing slowed to a stop.

The Joker held a hand up, signaling for his boys to stop. The officers also stopped their fire too, taking the chance to go back to crouching behind their vehicles.

“Y’know, I must say, it’s been a very long time since I’ve run into a kindred spirit.” The Joker said, though his tone came off rather snarky.

The polka-dotted person actually laughed in the Joker’s face. “I hardly think we’re kindred.” They sounded smug, then again, from the very moment they started talking they’d sound smug.

“You don’t? Then there’s only room for one person with a twisted grin!” The clown said as he pulled out his revolver and aligned it with the polka-dotted individual’s mouth. “Besides, I should really knock your teeth in for stealing my gimmick!”

“Oh, how I agree!” The green-faced person’s jovial tone turned harsher and rougher. It had the same speech habit as the Joker. That same silliness until taking a darker tone.

Don’t tell Jim this is another Joker.

The Joker fired and the shot rang true, shooting them in the teeth. Everyone watched how instead of blood starting to spurt from both their mouth and the back of their neck, instead a perfectly shaped hole lied in the center of their pearly whites. The green-faced person then threw their head back and loud gulp followed, along with their neck having an oddly bullet shaped thing go down.

“Now then! Back to our dance!” They didn’t go back to that strange tango from before, instead everyone watched as they spun the Joker. And kept spinning him. Again. And again. And again.

Until the Joker caught on fire.

The green masked individual then let the clown go and keep spinning on his own, still flaming. “Somebody stop me!”

Was that provocation?!

Everyone watched as it— because it had long shown that it wasn’t a they— it couldn’t be human— pulled a massive mallet out of its pocket. “Batter up, boys!” A pocket that was way too small mind you.

Also, batter up?

It seemed to grow annoyed when no one moved. “I said, BATTER UP!” Every officer and henchman watched in awe as its head enlarged so it could yell at them before it shrunk back to normal size and got to waving its mallet around like a bat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim watched the officer next to him as she did a double take at something she saw and starting running towards it. Jim followed her sight and… about a couple meters away was a police van with many, many signs around it, mostly arrows lit up by fluorescent lights and connected to no visible power source. The officer Jim saw rush over, and another officer, wrenched open the van doors.

When Jim whipped his head back to the green faced feller, The Joker was still spinning and it had reared back the hammer and swung. The clown went flying, the speed suffocating the flames, straight into the van. The two officers quickly shut it just before the sound of a sickening slam from the Joker smacking into van’s wall could be heard.

“Scoreeeeee!” It drew out the word. Jim blinked and it was suddenly in full sports fan regalia with a jersey, styrofoam hand, and beer hat, jumping around like it was at a national game. When Jim caught the back of its jersey it read: Mask.

Could it be associated with Black Mask then?

Jim blinked again and it was back in its original suit and it was walking towards Jim.

“Ah! Jim, good to meet the extended family!” It shook Jim’s hand from where the commissioner was still squatted down, literally lifting Jim off the ground as it happened.

“Excuse me? Family? What are yo—” Jim was cut off by it giving him a “ta-ta!” It then dropped him and literally spun off. It reminded Jim of the Tasmanian devil from Loony Toons.

Who— no. What in the world was that?

A new rogue?

Timothy Drake - Red Robin POV

When Tim woke up that next morning, he was exhausted to say the least. He didn’t get to finish dinner before the bat signal went off. Then, when they finally got to the scene of the crime, the Joker had already been detained, but now there was a new rogue of all things on the loose!

Tim and his family had spent the entirety of the night chasing after this person! They’d barely caught a glimpse of them too! The family was always either one step behind or too slow, and by the time they blinked, they were gone. Then, the family would be running across the city to the next sighting of the villain.

So, when he got up that morning, all he wanted was his morning coffee, but guess what? The mug usually placed on the coaster next to him on the desk he fell asleep at wasn’t there.

(You weren’t there to make it.)

His weighted blanket wasn’t draped over his shoulders either. He’d noticed when he tried to pull it around him when he felt the chill of Alfred opening his door to check on him.

(You weren’t there to drape it over him.)

Also, speaking of Alfred, he was the one who woke him up today instead of you. Alfred also made sure Tim actually got up instead of your leaving him alone immediately after, because you knew he would get up after another five minutes.

All in all, it was a shitty night and a shitty morning.

When Tim went down for breakfast later, the coffee wasn’t in the pot either. Actually, there wasn’t even a pot. When he asked Alfred, he told him that you swept through the kitchen looking like a zombie, made yourself the coffee and took the entire pot with you.

He is so making you pay him back!

[serenity-loves-red]

IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM

Cat distribution system featuring Phainon.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. (Current). Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

In which• The Deliverer of Amphoreus is suddenly transported to your home as a cat.

“Blue? Food’s ready!” You called from the kitchen.

Silence. Then you looked up to check the time. 8:03 am was printed boldly in red in your digital clock, ticking as seconds passed by.

Blue should’ve been back by now, you thought.

Unlike most cats you’ve seen online, your cat is quite active. He likes to explore things, from the cornerest (is this even a word?) corner of your house to the farthest place he could go in your neighborhood without getting lost or stolen. He is, after all, is quite expensive and cute.

His mini adventures started when you brought him outside. You can’t just let him stay in your house alone after all. You’re worried he might destroy something after being alone, get hungry or something may just happen.

So you just ended up carrying him with you.

Imagine seeing a fluffy cat with big blue eyes turning his little head back in forth, meowing as if talking to you and pawing your chest excitedly. Cuteness aggression it is.

It wasn’t even a long errand but after seeing him excited, you decided to give him a tour around.

It wasn’t hard to notice that he may seem to understand you. You already have an inkling that your cat is different. I mean he meows at you with this kind of tone similar to people during conversation. It’s like if you didn’t know any better, it sounded like a full blown conversation but just between a human and a cat.

“This is the store I prefer to buy the groceries from. Remember your tunas? They have it here at a cheaper price.”

“Meoww? Meooooww!”

“And see that place over there? That’s our house, it’s a plus too since both places are near.”

“Meow!!”

Thus, it was where everything started. Mr. Blue Balls will sneakily go outside from the window of your room to explore.

Oh he may look fat but it’s all fluff honey.

You even thought that he was kidnapped when you woke up early. You were so ready to call child service, paw patrol or anything just before you saw him sneakily trying to fit his body in a gap in your window you don’t remember having and ended up getting stuck.

So you gave him an earful.

“Do you know where did you go wrong?”

“Meow..”

“Louder! You can understand me right? Give me one meow for yes.”

“MEow!”

Did you sound crazy? Yes. But it did help you realize that your suspicions aren’t just a just.

Damn, your cat can understand you.

You’re not scared, if anything, you’re more excited to have an emotional support buddy that can talk with you. It’s like an upgrade pro version of a pet cat!

So with all of that, you just learned to start treating him not just a cat. It was like having a feline roommate with a human intelligence.

You talk. He meows.

So when you called him again for breakfast, you really started to get worried when there wasn’t any reply. You hurriedly tidied the kitchen, placed the foods at the table before going out to look for him.

“Mr. Blue Balls?! Where have you been?”

Just after you opened your front door. There stood your missing cat, his fluffy coat had been dirtied with a fluffy pomeranian dog trailing behind him.

“Meow!!” *smug smile, tail upright*

“Woof.”

Funny to think you thought the dog had said:

”Mr blue balls huh? Nice name you got there deliverer.”

Note: You ask, i deliver. I’m starting to think if i should turn this into a series? Or maybe it is alreadyyy?!! 😝😝😝😝

Also cross posted in AO3 under same username!

[hollyhomburg]

Hold your Breath (Count to Seven)

(Pack alpha Hoseok focus, Background ot7 x reader, Omegaverse, Forced Caretaking, Omega scarcity au)

୨୧‧₊˚ Summary: When a performance keeps pack alpha Hoseok from tending to his sick omega, he struggles to contain his rage (and looks back on all the reasons he has to control his anger).

୨୧ ‧₊˚ Word Count: 16.6k

୨୧ ‧₊˚ Tags: Omegaverse au, omega scarcity, forced caretaking, idol au, Pack alpha hoseok x omega! m/c, Sicfic, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Background ot7 x reader, eventual Brat! m/c, Implied chronic health issues, themes of trauma, Hoseok has PTSD from enlistment, healing, Past Medical mistreatment, past neglect, Eventual smut, brief smut, Brief allusions to omega obedience training, Brief Dom! Hoseok, Breif Sub! m/c + Jk, referenced Dom Jimin + spanking, non-chronological storyline

୨୧ ‧₊˚ A/N: This was inspired after i got /dreadfully/ ill after seeing HOTS in march. i've been writing it for a good long while i guess! i'm open to adding more to the story if i'm inspired but as of right now it will only be 5 parts. Please enjoy it and let me know what you think! this story also does go non-chronolgocially, if we organize it by chronology this is actually the middle. basically it goes 3 < 4 < 5 < 1 < 2, but i think you'll enjoy the flashbacks of how they got togeather!

The sound of the audience and the rumble of screams and shouts are still ringing in Hoseok's ears as he exits the stage. The roar of the lyrics are a hum filling his veins. Adrenaline pumps through his system better than any drug or instinct. More addictive and more natural to him than breathing.

He’s sweat tacky in places he’d rather not name and yet despite this night- a show, the dance of performer and performance, the validation that comes from the screams of many waiting fans- despite all of that- Hoseok's still not calm. Hoseok's still not satisfied.

He yanks his in ears out, nearly tearing at the wiring the second he's clear from view. Not even bothering to put his microphone in its correct case as he moves, breathless and hurried in the direction of the dressing room.

A stagehand tries to help him, but after clocking the rage and aggression rolling off of him they think better of it and lower their gaze as he passes, practically curling in on themselves.

He's on alert, aggression a hairpin trigger just waiting to be pulled below his skin. Almost hoping for an outlet. The still lingering roaring cheers of Alphas, a good number of betas, and a sparse select few omegas ferry him as he cuts through the sea of staff.

By all metrics the show had gone well. He's not angry because he stumbled or because someone messed up the queue for the cube again. This performance had gone perfectly. It has nothing to do with why he's about to snap and punch someone. Maybe bite them. Maybe tear them limb from limb- yeah his alpha likes the sound of that. But none of this, none of this is what makes his blood hot in his veins.

That honor belongs to his omega.

You’re not just his, of course, you belong to the others too. But he’s pack alpha, so they all belong to him to some degree. The pups more so, his peers, Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi- less. Being a part of a pack is more like belonging to matching a set and less ownership.

But not anymore. You're Hoseok's. In every way that matters. You're his.

It's hard to believe, but Hoseok was not always so possessive and exacting as a pack alpha. He never had to deal with any of this- the instincts and the near-feral need that comes with them before the pack became fractured. Broken in a way that can’t be fixed by words and promises. Leaving Hoseok's alpha to pace back and forth the inside of his mind like a monster caged and understimulated.

Hoseok wishes he knew what he was giving up when he enlisted.

Not that knowing would have changed anything. But at least then he'd have been prepared.

Hoseok has seven pups and seven packmates registered to his pack. four alpha's, two beta's, and one precious omega. He's never been without his pack for so long and before 22 months ago they'd never been apart for more than a few weeks. Enlisting posed new challenges, some that Hoseok thought he'd be better at handling by now.

But adjustment takes time. Healing takes time. It doesn't matter how many times he repeats that to himself. Nothing ever gets easier (You might disagree).

The military wasn't easy. They didn't go easy on Hoseok.

He'd never been one alpha among the many, never had his rage cultivated and honed as a weapon to be used and wielded by his superiors. Hoseok learned he was good at being angry- good at melding his body and his alpha together as one- it's only now that Hoseok's out that he's struggling to detangle his sense of self from his alpha.

He'd never been without some sort of pack structure. At least not in so many years. He'd presented with Namjoon and Yoongi- had dealt with their instincts and learned how to settle his own alongside them. A good thing too because a few years after when Jungkook and Taehyung had come along. Young and wide-eyed and entirely unprepared for anything like presenting- they'd needed a pack alpha to help settle them. Someone to guard and mind their instincts, to take care of them, to push when they needed pushing and get them to bend when otherwise they might break.

But war is different. Rage- Hoseok is learning, Is a particular monster that doesn't go down easy.

Of course they'd never been completely broken as a pack. Even now Yoongi is home in the pack house still doing his daily service and coming home at the end of the day. The last time Hoseok had been home (nearly 5 weeks ago before the start of the tour). Yoongi was still struggling; Hoseok saw signs of it everywhere.

His camo jacket wasn't in the house even, it's in the garage where he leaves his boots. Takes them off before he even sets foot inside. separate lives and separate alpha's. There are pack house slippers set up by the door. 16 slippers, 8 sets, color coordinated. Kept meticulously clean like the rest of the house. Namjoon's coffee mug left by the coffee maker, Tae's scarf laid over the chair. A still life painting. hints of the pack left undisturbed. As if they'd just popped out for a moment and where coming back later.

Maybe Hoseok should have realized it when Seokjin was discharged, how you and Yoongi had gone radio silent for 6 hours. How much more communicative Seokjin was after and how every day after he told Hobi how much he couldn't wait for the pack alpha to come home. A new edge to his tone. Hoseok should have suspected something was wrong.

Now that Hoseok's home, he knows. Jin had it easier. Jin's a beta Jin doesn't have a monster in the back of his mind constantly out for blood.

He knows that Yoongi's still not used to buying less than 8 people's worth of food at a time after so many years of cooking and shopping for 8. That he struggles to fall asleep at night- too used to the press of warm bodies around him. Now Hoseok knows that Sometimes when Yoongi wakes in the morning, his hands shake. Instincts and body unsettled.

Hoseok knows, for the first 6 months of his service, his hands shook in the morning too. Call it psychological dependence or physical addiction- Hoseok doesn't quite know what it is. Although Hoseok expects that had more to do with you.

Alpha's can grow dependent on omega's after all. It's no more addictive than a cup of coffee, and yet,

And yet…

In his worst moments, Hoseok wonders what the pack would do if they didn't have you.

If you hadn't have asked, Hoseok wouldn't have let you come on this tour, would have never dragged you across the globe from city to city and would never have taken you from Yoongi. But the fact of the matter is that Hoseok is...it's not that he's not handling this well exactly but...but...

But you'd pouted, and Hoseok (notoriously weak for your every whim and desire) had predictably melted. (He'd been a little oblivious to the thankful looks shot at you over his head, he'd missed the way that Yoongi had cornered you just before the start of tour, how he'd folded himself across you.

"I'll get him back, you know I can be persistent."

"I know, I'm just worried, he's so...unhappy." Yoongi finally settled on. Even if you're both aware that that's not quite it. "You know how I hate it when you push yourself.")

But trauma changes people, it affects everyone differently. Hoseok had changed.

Now Hoseok regrets letting you come even more. When he checks his phone he doesn't have a single text from you. Not a 'good luck on the show.' Or an 'I'll be watching alpha' or anything. Which is not like you. Hoseok shouldn't be so surprised. You're probably sleeping. You're probably just resting like you should be. He'd ordered you to rest last night.

Exiting the stage, Hoseok does try and settle himself. Pausing in the darkness listening the the shouting of the crowd, slowly becoming a murmur and rumble. 60 thousand footsteps trudging towards the exit.

He spends a few moments standing there, staff around him waiting on bated breath, waiting for him to move. He's at least practicing his breathing exercises even if his body still feels like a weapon poised to attack.

When Hoseok closes his eyes, he sees each member of his pack as a pinprick of light against the map. Five dots clustered across the ocean back in Korea, one here close by, and one on the other side of the world.  7 dots and 7 breaths.

Seokjin is in France for an event that left him looking glittery and bejeweled. But he's existed as little more than sinful pictures and soft check-ins on Hoseok’s phone. His phone buzzes, but Hoseok keeps his eyes closed and breathes before he looks at it.

Those check-ins are the only way Hoseok stays sane these days. The updates from Jimin and Jungkook- shots of the dinner they make for the thousands of other recruits. 30 gallon pots of honey potatoes. Recordings of Namjoon's military band. The few promos that Taehyung is allowed to shoot- although he out of all of them is radio silent most weeks. Hoseok knows it's just because he's military police and has a higher clearance than them- even though Hoseok's technically a sergeant- but still-

Taehyung is a shifting wolf, he has different expectations than the rest of the pack.

Hoseok isn't in the military anymore. He's just Jung Hoseok. Only Hoseok could never be just Jung Hoseok- no matter what universe you put him in.

As long he knows exactly where and what his pack is doing the instincts are a little bit easier to bear. As long as he knows when Yoongi's going to come home, when Seokjin will be done with his photoshoot or recording session or this or that and is ready there waiting at the front door for a scenting or a brief nibble at their throat. Hoseok's instincts stay mostly in check.

Mostly. It's easier if Hoseok gives in, just a little bit, to what his alpha wants.

Hoseok's alpha wants more than Hoseok can give him right now, Hoseok's alpha wants blood, wants to tear this stadium apart and hunt across the city, tearing through anyone that steps in his way until he gets to you.

They haven’t all been together in so long his body is almost used to it. His body has adjusted. It’s been months now but there is still aggression that lurks under his skin, alpha constantly roiling to get out out out out. To get back to his pack, to drag them back by the scruff of their necks to the pack house and place them gently in your nest where they belong. Damning laws and discharge dates and all associated consequences.

The truth is that Hoseok's alpha doesn't know what to do when they're not together. Will keep him awake, will keep him from eating or resting. He'd heard that enlistment time could be dangerous for pack alphas, that many don't survive their 18 months without going feral at least once. Hoseok had skimmed by the skin of his teeth.

In many ways, the fight between man and alpha is like a dance, Hoseok’s alpha asks for obedience and Hoseok gives him his body but not his mind when he can help it. He runs and moves, and puts every ounce of discipline and dominance into his dance. His moves are always mastered, never shaky.

Hoseok's not sure he'd know it if he went feral.

When he'd been announced as pack alpha back just after their debut, there had been more than one article that questioned why the sunshine of the group, the ever-smiling and genial member, neither the largest nor the tallest was made pack alpha.

But size has nothing to do with it. Now, no one wonders. After seeing him perform solo on the stage they bought and paid for with their youth and hard work. After seeing him and what he can do no one questions him. Hoseok made discharge look effortless, no one would ever guess. No one would ever wonder.

Other times, Hoseok's alpha asks for more than Hoseok can give without showing it. Like tonight.

The only thing that made their military service at all tolerable was the fact that for those 6 months when the 6 of them had been in active service- at least Yoongi had been able to come home to you.

There’s a text from him on Hobi's phone and he's not asking about the show. Yoongi always watches the live stream and usually texts him the second he's hot off the stage. Asking about how it went even though he saw it. Namjoon might be the group leader but Yoongi has always felt a bit more like Hoseok's second in command.

Hoseok has no doubt that Yoongi saw right through him tonight, saw the furious crispness to his movements, and was able to tell how close he was to breaking. Hoseok doesn’t doubt that the other alpha checking his phone every few minutes. Anxiously waiting for Hoseok's response.

When Hoseok is certain he has enough control over his body that the text isn't going to make him trash the backstage area. He checks his phone.

Yoonie (10:32pm): How is she? Any news? Has her condition gotten any worse?

Yoonie (10:33pm): I know you're probably already considering it, but you know traveling isn't healthy for omega's long term. She needs her routine. You should consider sending her home.

Yoongi has gentler instincts and always has. But even he can't stay settled when their omega is sick. Yoongi also wasn’t taken away from you for a year and a half and taught to kill so Hoseok thinks he’s allowed to be a little on edge.

Hoseok shouldn't feel so fragile and so volatile. He should feel better. This is nothing compared to how it was right after he got back.

Yoongi's not the only one who's texted, the rest already have using their precious 30 minutes of phone time a day to check in. Most of the time, Hobi tries to time his updates to accumulate before they wake.

Jin gets it, Jin understands. Even though he's a beta. His text came through just before Hobi got on stage.

Jinnie (7:05pm): Let me know if you want me to change my flight.

They’ve been separated for a year. There was only Jin’s discharge and then his that they’ve all been together for. They all keep in regular contact and that’s not difficult. They check in and text daily and call weekly. But it's never enough.

As a pack with a registered omega they’re offered some allowances by the government. They get more days off and leeway if one of them gets sick or injured (like last month with Taehyung- Hoseok’s little alpha, bundled close in the nest, face tucked under your chin, so achingly still. His newly big body oh so carefully placed so that he wouldn’t strain his cracked rib.)

Alphas don’t have a better reason to fight than for omegas and recovery rates are always always higher if an alpha has been scented by an omega. The boost to their immune system alone is enough to make omega’s necessary for the war effort. The government even employs some omega's and compensates them greatly for their service as scenters.

The pack would never think about going to a government omega, not when they’ve got you at home.

As a bonded pack there’s no use, it wouldn’t work the same (and Hoseok would never offend you that way). But there’s less time given if more than one alpha is out. It’s one of the few reasons why Hoseok went in first so that he'd be able to help them all adjust when the time came.

He never expected to be the one to have trouble with it. To struggle to turn his instincts off now that they've been turned on.

The people around must be able to tell that Hoseok’s on edge, and the crowd too. Their cries reached a feral pitch, the same shouting that still vibrates the stage beneath his feet. Rage rolls off of him in waves as he stalks back to the dressing room. Smile and grin and smirk falling from his face.

They must be able to smell it on him underneath all the smell of the show, the gunpowder and fire from Hangsang, the roil of steam from sweet dreams, all irrelevant.

This is what they’ve all been waiting for for what feels like years, a chance to be on the stage again, a chance to perform. This is only the beginning leg of the tour and there are still kinks to work out and problems to solve. The logistical nightmare of moving staff and stage across multiple countries never ends. Hoseok is used to this. Hoseok is comfortable here.

He keeps telling himself that.

But right now, Hoseok can't think about it. He can't think about anything else but you.

Because you're sick.

~-~

Omegas are so rare that not every pack can have one.

Only those who can supply an above-average standard of life usually get one. Both prize and packmate. They're more common in celebrity and chaebol circles. Having an omega in your pack is the ultimate sign of success and wealth.

Some packs even have two, especially if the omega's have decided they're nestmates. But Hoseok can't imagine needing more than you.

A disease two generations ago wiped out nearly 90% of omega's. The sickness left only the most looked after, the most cared for unscathed. But those that were alive by the end of the nearly 10 year period scrambled to cope. To this day the omega population still hasn't recovered in any meaningful way. They make up only about 1 in every 100 individuals worldwide, less in Korea.

Most omega’s go through a very rigorous courting period if they're going to belong to a pack at all, only the richest and well-esteemed packs can covet one for for themselves. The rest of the world survives off of government-sponsored nesting and scenting services. There are even government agencies in charge of omega’s. Each omega gets an id card and a social worker. Hoseok hasn't had to talk to yours in years. Omegan Health Services or the OHS that tracks any omega that might have come into contact with the virus and quickly disseminates antivirals and vaccines.

You have to get yours every few months. Hoseok makes sure you never miss your appointments. Usually, he spends the following day confining you to the nest, immune to your restless squirming and your insistence that you're alright, just a little tired. Resistant to his insistence that he carry you where you need to go, that he fuss over you.

Luckily- the rest of the pack gangs up on you after your shots too. Namjoon puts your bandaid on the inside of your arm and Yoongi soothes your stomach with bone broth and light food to support your immune system. Each spoonful blown at, your lips dotted with reassuring kisses between bites. Jungkook and Taehyung usually wrap themselves around you like a living blanket to keep the shivers at bay. Nosing into your spine.

Only Hoseok and Yoongi usually attend your appointments. They're a little too intense for the others. Sometimes Jin comes. But he's the most likely to burst into tears and then you end up comforting him instead of the other way around.

Hoseok is usually good up until they actually put the needle into your skin. He'd broken a chair the first time he'd seen it. Gripping the wooden arm so hard as he heard your intake of pain that it had splintered under his hand.

There's a genetic component to being a pack alpha. Jungkook has the gene too. Hoseok has always been a little stronger, a little more resilient than the others.

Hoseok has only ever missed one of your appointments. Last year, the year Hoseok was enlisted for your shot. You'd spent weeks telling him he didn't have to take a day off for it (he'd been saving all of his leave for his packmate's ruts and your heat, but even then Hoseok knew he was going to have to miss one or two.) You said you'd be fine, that the shot wouldn't be too bad, you've had them before after all.

Only you hadn't been alright, you'd had to be hospitalized for it. It wasn't all that uncommon, omega's have weak immune systems and yours has always been particularly fragile.

Hoseok hardly remembers it. The static through the line, he'd hardly been able to hear Yoongi's voice over the roar of his heartbeat through his ears. An emergency call from Yoongi, something about an allergic reaction, anaphylaxis.

He'd have gone awol if his commander hadn't granted him emergency leave. His brain hadn't stopped roaring until he'd draped himself draped across your hospital bed after making an 8-hour car ride in 6 hours. Beret off, spilled and fallen onto the floor, face crumpling the second Yoongi rose from your opposite bedside.

"Namjoon will be here in an hour, she tried to stay up for you but the medication they had to give her made her drowsy."

Hoseok hadn't been able to speak, to respond to him. The sight of you in the bed. Small looking. The cannula. Supplying your body with oxygen because it's not getting enough. Everything screaming at Hoseok's instincts wrong wrong wrong. Fight protect keep safe.

Hoseok was terrified.

They'd given him a tranquilizer to stop him from pacing outside your door. Apparently its a normal occurrence in the relatively empty but well maintained omega's only wing of the hospital. Guards watch him with nervous expressions as they patrol the halls.

After that, he'd been a little more susceptible to Yoongi's gentle request that Hoseok should come sit by your bedside table. And what started as sitting turned into nuzzling into your hand turned into closing his eyes for just a moment.

You'd been rubbing your hands over his shaved head by the time he'd woken. He'd been so sure he'd been dreaming it, but Your honey voice is so soothing after hearing nothing but shouting to work harder and run faster you're so weak private Jung, can you even hit the target for weeks and weeks that it felt a bit like a lullaby to hear his own name spoken so gently, with such tenderness.

"Hobi, Oh Hobi. You didn't have to come all this way for me."

~-~

This is thankfully not that. Thankfully you're sick with just a cold and not the virus. But Hoseok doesn't take any sickness lightly. Not when it comes to you.

Modern medicine has come a long way, but still not far enough. Omegas are so rare a good portion of the population even abandons the idea of having an omega entirely. They’re not exactly a necessity for beta’s but for alphas- it’s a different story.

Hoseok can feel the hum of scent deprivation under his skin. The itch unlike any other. Hoseok cannot smell you on him, not his clothes or his skin. Nothing beyond the smell of sweat and alpha annoyance. Through any other performance, he’d at least have the scent of his pack on him. But not tonight, not until June when everyone will finally finally be together.

You’d been sleeping through the morning when he left, and he’d been reluctant to wake you on account of how you’d fallen asleep last night- or hadn’t. You’d been sniffling and coughing the whole night away. Hoseok had kept watch over you through it all.

What had started as a brief tickle in your throat around lunch yesterday (an easy meal- vegetables for Hobi and a tad bit of meat for you, fed from his own chopsticks, every brief shake of your head met with a disapproving look that you have long stopped disagreeing with. Hobi knows how much you are to eat, there's no reason why you need to worry your pretty little head about anything). Had developed into a fever and a few minutes of terror while they waited for the test to develop.

You've never gotten the sickness before but Hoseok knows how it would start; a feverishness like heat, then tiredness. And then all of a sudden you'd go to nest and wouldn't get up again without medical intervention. Might not get up at all. Might stop breathing- might-

He repeats it to himself again. That you're not sick with it. That this is just an ordinary cold. He has no reason to be so on edge.

The fans tonight could tell there was something wrong. Could spot it. Hoseok knows they're wondering if it's you. You aren’t a secret, but you are a private matter. A person that only the pack and the staff know by name. There have been pictures and speculation. They don't hide you but your last name is not public knowledge. You keep your face hidden almost constantly when you know you’re going to be spotted with them.

You are not someone to be jealous of but to be jealous for. You are not someone to be stalked or photographed. What they ordinarily tolerate out of necessity, they never do with you.

But alpha's are not always good at controlling their instincts. There have been incidents, not always because of them or their lack of control either. Jungkook had almost come to blows with an alpha who dared to sniff in your direction just before Jungkook's enlistment, a month or so after Hobi's.

~-~

The flash of the cameras are dizzying. There's a hush that falls over the room as you and Jungkook enter, before the roar redoubles- twice as loud as before.

You're mostly used to it by now, but still some things- like Jungkook close behind you, his big hand on the small of your back make it easier to tolerate. The press of people on either side of you is stifling, press and fans, guards and security. There's only a few moments of claustrophobia from the car to the showcase.

You hold your breath, and Jungkook stays close. It would be easier if your other alphas were here, but you're getting used to having them far away, to having them only on your phone or during evening phone calls. It's been enough months that Hoseok has stopped apologizing for leaving you and Namjoon has started making promises of all the things you'll do once you're home.

But still, sometimes you wake in the nest in the morning, big and empty of bodies, and feel so lonely it aches.

It will be worse when Jungkook goes. You know it will. Which is why you're tagging along today, why you've tagged along to schedules you'd normally avoid.

Sometimes you don't believe what hoseok says, the way that the world talks about omegas, they say you're more delicate, you're more breakable. Most of the time, you don't believe it.

Other times, like this, your anxiety rushes at you, and their touch becomes the only teather you have outside of the fear, the nervousness, the pounding tumble of your heart that ached for confined soft spaces, warmth and enclosed safety. A nest.

But you do away with your instincts today, in favor of staying close. A few more weeks, you only have a few more weeks until Jungkook goes and you don't want to waste a single minute.

One moment you're in front of Jungkook, walking almost instep with him as he leads you through rows and rows of security. You know what you'll look like in magazines later, wide eyes perched over a mask, hat with bunny ears flopping. Swallowed whole by a jacket, small next to your alpha. That there will be articles and breakdowns of your every movement.

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Being an omega can get a little frustrating. You're not the only one scrutinized this way, most omega's that mate with public figures are the topic of the tabloids. You'd flopped against hoseok's chest the first time it happened, "they only saw my forehead! how are they talking about skincare routine when they don't even know?" he'd just pressed his forhead against yours, nuzzling your nose playfully.

"I hate to tell you that you should get used to it but- the press are just kind of like that."

Most of them keep their distance. tipping their head as you pass. it doesn't make you weirded out or nervous, it just is this way. You take off your hat and mask the second you're clear of the doors and fans, about to turn and say something to Jungkook. You don't see the dark figure at the end of the hall leaning forward ever so slightly.

But Jungkook does.

it happens so quick you can't even blink, one moment you're stumbling, turning to say something to him, a security gaurd reaching out to steady you- The next moment you're holding Jungkook back around his waist, blood on his knuckles and a growl on the air.

More than one security guard and staff gets between you and the other alpha. He spits blood on the floor. Some of it hits your legs.

Your ears ring, and you can't hear anything as Jungkook shoves you behind him. Two other security guards have to hold him back. Hands shaking out of their hold.

They'd still been shaking, as he used a wet wipe to clean the blood off of your legs after.

You just don't sniff at an omega without permission, let alone reach to touch them. Let alone an omega with a pack.

"Jeon Jungkook! No! Bad!"

You don't like using their full names, never have, it's always pet names with you. Hoseok can already hear the gentle velvet of your voice crooning softly, "Hobi, are you okay? Do you want to come lay down in my nest for a bit? Can you come here alpha? I want to scent you."

You are the only person for whom his instincts bend. You are the only person he ever willingly takes orders from. The fight worn out of his body at your simplest request.

Hoseok takes Emergency pack alpha leave precious and dwindling by the month, just to handle the situation again. But disciplining his pack takes precedent.

A tidy settlement had kept the situation from leaking to the press, although Hoseok could hardly blame Jungkook for acting aggressively. His head had hung the entire time Hoseok been home. Jungkook doesn't like disappointing the pack alpha. Especially not now, when they don't have days and weeks of proximity and routine to get back on even ground. Not when Hoseok only has 24 hours, and has to leave in the morning.

It only takes one touch for Hoseok to bring him to his knees. A hand on the back of his neck the second they're clear of the outside. The pack house, dusty and mostly empty. Jungkook's mouth has been running wild since Hoseok first walked into the company building. Apologizing to anyone who would listen.

But Hoseok hadn't accepted the apology until they'd been in private.

"Do you know why you're sorry Jungkook?"

You're sat across Hoseok's lap for it, sniffling slightly. Soothed by the rhythmic brush of his hand down his back, your cold nose pressed against his throat. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his uniform before this. Jungkook is on his knees between Hoseok's parted thighs. Inches from you and kept at a distance by sheer obedience. Hoseok admires Jungkook's restraint. Not every alpha could resist nuzzling into an omega's thighs, especially one so close.

Hoseok knows his weaknesses. Jungkook is also a good alpha. Hoseok's most obedient one. But even then he's not even looking at Hobi when as he kneels.

Jungkook looks at you and blinks back tears. Hoseok wants to lick at the alpha's pretty canines, wants to press your faces together and make you kiss. Make it messy just for him. He redoubles his hold on you. holding you tighter. You lap at his scent gland, trying to soothe yourself, nearly suckling at the skin of his throat.

"For offending our omega and...for putting her in danger?" Jungkook's hands slid down Hoseok's calf muscles, but Hoseok just tipped his feet wider. Giving Jungkook more room.

The ball of your foot pressed against Jungkook's shoulder, undeterred, the younger alpha only tries to nose up your leg. Hoseok nudges between his legs with his boot and Jungkook makes a noise- somewhere between a whine and a growl.

"Look at me. not at her." Hoseok keeps him still, and yet- there's only seconds before Jungkook's attention is diverted from the pack alpha's face to yours.

"And how did you do that? How did you put her in danger? Tell alpha."

"For Fighting? For hitting him?"

Hoseok is quick to reassure him with a hand on his chin, rubbing across Jungkook's cheek. "No no no, you did that perfectly. Alpha is so proud of you for defending our omega like that, try again."

"Because" Jungkook is having a hard time stringing his words together with Hoseok's boot pressed to certain places. But that's the point. Hoseok owns all of him like this, the sole of his rubber boot pressed against his knot, gently pressing it snug between Jungkook's body and the unyielding weight of his dominance. The other alpha pants openly. Hoseok can tell that it hurts. Can tell that Jungkook likes it to by the way his mouth opens in a soundless groan.

"Because I did it infront of her?"

"Yes. And why was that bad?"

"Because stress isn't good for omega's? They're too fragile for it." That Jungkook does not say shakily. He, like Hoseok, knows it in his bones that he speaks the truth.

hoseok is perilously weak not to reward him.

"That's right. Good boy. My smart boy. Pull your pants down for alpha and show me your knot." Jungkook pushes into Hoseok's hand like a puppy, letting out a shaky relieved breath at the words. You squirm a little, stilling when you feel Hoseok's hands go firm on your waist. A wordless command to keep still and stay where alpha wants you.

Jungkook rushes to comply, eager to be good. cock popping free, hitting his toned stomach with a light plop. Resting his chin on Hoseok's knee once he's finished.

He waits. You squirm. Looking at him over your shoulder and then at Hoseok. blushing furiously. unnerved by jungkook's complete obedience. Like you're struggling not to give it to.

You rub your nose up and down the column of his throat like you're trying to soothe yourself. "M' not fragile." Hoseok pulls back to peck your nose, humming and willing to play along. His hands on you are gentle, almost too gentle.

"Of course you're not. My sweet little pup. You’re so so brave, you didn’t even cry for that long and alpha is so so proud."

He adjusts his gaze to Jungkook, who has resorted to clinging to Hoseok's legs again for comfort. Pretending he's not rutting his hips in tentative circles and making a mess of Hoseok's pant leg. Eyes teary and worked up. Teeth half bared in aggression like he wants to submit completely but can't quite will himself too. his alpha bubbling up.

"It was just...Scary." You say, quiet and soft. And when you reached down to touch Jungkook's hair, Hoseok lets you.

Jungkook sags into the touch. He chases your scent gland taking deep grateful lungfuls of the scent there. lips parted against your skin. The ache between his thighs forgotten. Teeth almost pressed and bared. But he wouldn't dare nip at you, not when you're sat in Hoseok lap.

This time when apologies dribble from his lips, Hoseok feels like he means it. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry. I won't do that again in front of her- I didn't mean too-"

Hoseok presses his shoe against Jungkook's cock again, This time there's no fabric guarding the harsh dig of the leather and tred from dimpling Jungkook's skin. The alpha yelps. Thighs shaking with the effort it takes him to stay still. Body going rigid.

When Hoseok takes his shoe off, there's a bit of white wet liquid, staining the dark leather. Hoseok's smile is near feral.

"All will be forgiven, Don't you want to show hyung how good you can be? I think you owe our pup a little stress relief Kookie." Hoseok simply shifts you in his lap. Draping one leg over either knee. Fingers dipping between your legs, low. Fingers parting warmth and sweet. Jungkook's blubbering cuts off.

"All you have to do it open your mouth and apologize."

~-~

Jungkook had been sorry, for almost inadvertently pushing your capabilities. The whole world treats omega's like this- like they are inherently fragile.

You are someone that the fans would never shove or push at. It's generally considered a taboo to be rough with omegas at all and more than one idol has had to issue a public apology after tugging their omega's hand a little too roughly at the airport or through crowds of fans.

At least outside of private matters. Behind closed doors, it's more up to what the individual omega wants. At least that's what Hoseok's learning with you.

It's also considered the bare minimum to provide for your omega an extravagant life. That at least- Hoseok does not struggle with. It's easy to spoil you, instinctual almost. To protect and provide and please.

All in all Hoseok is more straightforward that you might expect, he'll give his pack everything so long as they hold nothing back in return.

Being on tour with him means you can try things you wouldn’t ordinarily eat and go places you wouldn’t normally go. To art museums and shopping districts for pretty little diamond studded collars and comfortable designer nesting supplies. Café's for famous desserts shaped like flowers and figs, and even the exclusive omega section at Fao Schwartz.

The packages for that have already been sent back to Seoul where they no doubt fill the entryway of the pack house. Probably carefully unwrapped and organized by yoongi, still in their silk bags on the border of your personal nest at home. A custom-made monstrosity that Hoseok had made for you and Yoongi designed that cost a small fortune.

But Hoseok had no qualms with him spending the pack's money on that. Not even back at the beginning of your courtship and relationship. Nothing but the best for you.

But delicate requests for room service and delivery from a restaurant you’d wanted to try with a promise for more at the next tour stop are now forgotten. Everything is forgotten now that you're sick.

He’s aware he’s been followed, his manager, a bodyguard, a makeup Noona trail behind him as he stalks in the direction of the dressing room. Where his clothes are, where he can get his things and leave. He can feel the rage polishing his canines already.

It makes his grin wider, teeth sharper in the privacy of darkness. Hoseok is snarling at the shadows, the toothy grin crazed as he finally makes it back to the dressing room. Tearing off his jacket popping the buttons and ripping the hem of it in the process.

It can be fixed before the next performance. Hoseok would rip 100 jackets to get home to you even a second quicker.

Unlike usual, no one offers him congratulations and he doesn’t offer any thanks or encouragement. His hands shake as he bends down to undo his shoes, all but yanking them off of him. His necklaces get tangled around his fingers, 7 of them- one for each packmate, and the second he starts to tear at them. Someone reaches for him- to stop him.

Hoseok turns and nearly lunges at Mr. Lee.

Hoseok imagines it perfectly, teeth sinking in, popping through skin and blood. The image is so visceral that Hoseok almost confuses it with reality. The familiar iron tang on the back of his throat what his instincts demand.

He stops himself just narrowly before he can get to his throat. He loses a growl. A sound so bone chilling that no one dare moves a muscle.

Only pure familiarity keeps him from actually biting the other man. the fact that Hoseok's alpha has sort of identified him as someone safe. But the scent of alpha aggression in the air makes everyone, even the lowliest stagehand, pause where they’re gathered. Hoseok bares his teeth and breathes. Struggling to contain himself.

Mr. Lee doesn't flinch, doesn't even raise his eyebrows at Hobi, looking at him with that same impassive expression. Not intimidated in the slightest by Hoseok snapping his teeth.

His hand smooth over the necklaces. He lets go of Hoseok gently.

Honestly, he should be more careful, they were gifts from the pack. The pack like matching their clothes, their shoes, their jewelry, and matching pack items are fairly common, especially in larger packs.

Hoseok in particular likes to have one thing from each of them on his person at most times, especially when he's traveling. Especially since he hasn't given any of them mating bites yet (none of them could stomach the idea of doing it before service). A little memento to keep them close. The biggest necklaces are from Yoongi and Namjoon and the smallest one is from you. Each of them cost no small sum, they're monetarily valuable as well as sentimental to Hoseok.

Hoseok doesn't thank Mr.Lee as he holds his breath, counts to seven, and goes back to taking them off, this time more gently without yanking at the clasps hard enough to bend the metal. even though he's breathing heavy. even though his hands are shaking. Hoseok struggles but there’s already someone behind him undoing the clasps and finally, it feels like he can breathe.

“Sorry. I’m fine I’m fine just-” Hoseok scrubs his hand across his face. Holding the necklaces in one hand. The diamonds sway. long strands handing towards the floor.

“Can I change in the car?” Hoseok is not asking, even if it’s phrased as a question.

With the way Seejin is looking at him, Hoseok knows the answer, and that he doesn’t want to say it. “Fine just- hurry.” Everyone knows why he's on edge, why he’s off.

Everyone here is well acquainted with the pack's omega.

The first few shows you'd ever attended, you'd been quite the distraction. Falling asleep in Namjoon's lap during his makeup. tugging on Jungkook's shirt while he was getting dressed, playfully feeling Jimin's hair while he was warming up and cutting off his notes. Unwilling to let any of them go on stage without being scented. a reminder as you lingered in the wings of the stage, in their peripheral vision that made even Hoseok stumble.

Occasionally you still attend their concerts to remind them of the power you hold, that as much as you give in to their impulses, they're also beholdent to yours. The leash goes both ways.

You're a little bit of a legend among the makeup noonas, managers, and bodygaurds. Because before enlistment and before any of this, before you’d been theirs, you’d been here working alongside them- a member of the support staff.

~-~

Omegas aren’t officially banned from working, not in any legal or governmental capacity.

Every few years some asshole petitions the current government to put some ban on them working and demand they remain registered to one alpha and one alpha only as is natural. But in all reality, the world could not survive without omegas at least taking some modicum of independence for themselves.

A good number of them appreciate their freedom. Just not you.

Hoseok doesn't like to consider the world where there are no working Omega's, a world where they aren't allowed to help. Now that he's seen the military, and seen what it's like when alphas are taken outside of their normal routine and pack structure and put all together. The idea is even more unsettling.

Without omega's, alphas would break out into all-out war.

Hoseok imagines The rage. The quiet of devastation of murder out of necessity. Alphas already have a hard time restraining their instincts even with an omega. Every few weeks there are stories of some alpha going feral on the news. Can you imagine going 8 weeks without being scented? That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd last 4.

Omega’s are too gentle to do most jobs that aren't specifically designed for them. Omegas are sensitive, in need of protection from just about everything. No fear is too small, not fear of thunder or fear of darkness. Anything that can lurk can be killed, and alphas will kill for omegas. It’s a culturally accepted fact.

No alpha can maintain their instincts for long and keep them under control without an omega scenting them docile at least once a week, it's biological, a necessity as much as drinking water or eating. For beta's its slightly less- they get more snapish than feral. they need it maybe once a month.

Hoseok has still seen seokjin's hands shake, has still suffered through more than one sleepless night with jimin. His body and his brain fighting his instinct to stay awake.

There are modern solutions for age old problems of course. Before you the pack subsided the same way the rest of the population did. There are upscale scenting parlors on just about every street corner in the city, private institutions designed with open air booths or similar to cafes that pay out omega's handsomely for a little acess to their wrists or if they're feeling particularly brave- their throats.

Most priced too expensive for the average person to afford, let alone a couple of broke trainees drunk on foolish dreams. There are alternatives for most of the population. Synthetic omega scent (that always smelled too chemical to Hoseok) available for purchase at every convenience store. Fortified drinks with omega pheromones that sort of work that keep you awake when you need to make deadlines. Yoongi used to overindulge in them.

If you're willing to pay extra, you can even buy something that's actually been scented by an omega. They have boutiques for it.

Although very very few packs can have an omega- most idol companies at least employ one designated omega scenter. They’re becoming more and more popular. A perk, similar to a 401k or unlimited PTO. See you don't need to worry about who will scent you next. See, if you're having a bad day or need help pushing through, we have what many don't.

And still- despite their necessity. Not all societies worship omegas. In certain pockets of the world, omegas are thought of as spoiled and lazy. Some are even kept secret to keep their freedoms, their omegan instincts suppressed until later by medications.

Either consensually or non-consensually in your case. You hadn’t known, not until you were well into your teenage years and nearly a legal adult, that you were an omega. Your instincts remained mostly dormant (and what didn't stay dormant you neglected). sometimes you still struggle to understand what your omega wants.

The others just think you're a little more spirited than a regular omega. But Hoseok knows. Hoseok's alpha has always been able to sniff it out.

Hoseok's blood still boils when he thinks about what your parents did to you. They did it in the name of protecting you but still. He'll still rant if given the opportunity (as long as it doesn't set you on edge). Hoseok's ranting is usually met with understanding from the other alphas and chagrined comfort from the betas in his pack.

The alphas understand that the anger never really goes away. But Seokjin and Jimin are different. They get a little spooked when Hoseok shows how truly angry he is.

Jimin usually exits the room when the others decide to indulge hoseok when he wants to hash it out again. He and Taehyung and Yoongi and Namjoon will find themselves in Yoongi's studio with a twelve-pack or they'll hit golf balls off the roof of the company building when the restlessness of unmet anger really tares at them. Hashing it out yet again until the rage has quieted to a dulcet murmur and Hoseok feels like writing songs about it again.

But not now. Hoseok can't calm himself down right now- Not right now when you’re back in the hotel room running a fever. A fucking fever.

You can’t blame Hoseok. He’s protective of you for a reason. It’s not only the omega plague that has him concerned but…your general health.

It's been harder to resist the temptation to worry since after his military service. Without all of them here to temper his anger and calm him down, Hoseok's alpha has been running a little wild. Bubbling up under the surface. Constantly close and whispering in his ear.

You even thing you see it come out on stage sometimes. Sometimes when he commands the crowd or asks them to roar for him it feels almost like he's using alpha voice with them.

You’d noticed the shift in Hoseok the second he’d come back. The second he took off his uniform for the last time after 18 months. His instincts were closer to the surface than ever before. He was so quiet. So silent. None of his usual electric energy, none of his quiet sureness that you were so used to.

Hoseok hates to admit it and hates it when anyone brings it up, but military service had changed him (and not in a good way).

It’s a good thing he has you- if it wasn’t for you- Hoseok doesn’t know if he’d have been able to find his way back to himself.

~-~

Coming home went something like this:

His eyes were wide through the live, open and unsure, a dazed look, almost shell shocked. Trembling with the new weight of old feelings. The position is familiar but the anxiety at his every move being watched- is unmatched. Like Jamais vu. How did being in front of the camera get so scary?

Hoseok used to be so good at this- at being an idol. They used to do this all the time almost without thought before enlistment. Are his movements too jerky? Can the fans tell that he's about to burst into tears? Can they tell? do they notice?

Is Hoseok not good at this anymore?

Leaving his station had felt like walking away from a nightmare only to find himself still asleep, somewhere between a night terror and a sweet dream. Because you were there in the van. You were there. A small body that nearly collided with his with how fast you pushed yourself to grab him the second he'd opened the door, A hand on your back and Hobi's neck, Yoongi close behind.

The cameras had only gotten one picture. Small arms wrapped around his waist and a blurry profile of a face pressed into his stomach.

Now, he listens to the sound of Yoongi prattling to Jin in the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed in the packhouse trying to decompress. there's an invitation to shower off the scent of the barracks before dinner that remains unfulfilled. The air smells like garlic and gochujang. the tang of ssamjang too. Smoke and fire. hoseok still hasn't undressed.

But Hoseok just sits on the bed. Hoseok can't move, lead weights attached to his extremities. Frozen there. Listening to the three of you and scenting the air.

the whole house smells like you, Jin, and Yoongi. just the three of you. none of the other alpha's, not Jimin. Hoseok never thought it would smell strange to him. Never thought that it would smell even a little unfamiliar.

Yoongi is all tangerine goodness. Bright and fragrant just on the edge of ripeness. Jin is soft as a peach, sweet and gentle. But You- oh you-

You smell like warm berry jam and nighttime summer air. Something drippy sweet and dark. Like the hint of sunshine and warmth and like syrup moving slow. Those early summer evenings where you can still smell the sun on the air even though it's already set.

Hoseok breathes it in through his teeth, Gritted. On edge. Alpha close under his skin.

Jin's teasing and Yoongi's low murmur fill the air around your bird chirps and squeaks, even when he falls silent. Absorbing it all, adjusting. It's only been a few hours. Only a few. Hoseok should cut himself some slack for not immediately being chipper and lighthearted.

Yoongi sounds relieved and excited even from here. There’s expensive champagne to celebrate (Hoseok hardly tasted his glass when he downed it, trying to calm his nerves) and a home-cooked meal that Hoseok has been looking forward to for months.

He hears the murmurs too, Yoongi breathing heavy, tense. Words he thinks Hoseok can't hear. "He's so skinny hyung, I saw him take off his jacket and I could see every tendon."

"I know, I know, but he's back now, he's safe, that's all we can change now. At least it's over for him."

"But the others."

"Baby I know." A quiet whine, a chirp. "don't you worry your little head about it darling, you just sit there, would you like to try the first piece? it's almost done. You don't need to save it for alpha, he'd want you to have it." It takes everything in Hoseok not to storm into the other room and feed it to you himself.

Hoseok knows what he looks like, knows that he's skinnier than normal, that he looks underfed and somehow more muscular than before. starved for something that isn't food maybe. the military keeps alphas well fed but not satiated. feeds them enough protein and wolfsbane to make them stronger and yet more susceptible.

But in the meantime worry and anxiety have eaten away at him. His cheeks are hollow and his thin birdlike bones look like they've been wrapped with corded muscle. You'd squeezed them appreciatively earlier, the same as you had with Jin. And Yoongi's eye roll had been hassling. But even the other alpha smelled pleased.

"Yah what am I going to do, if they all come back like this it's going to be me and you against the world pup." You'd giggled, and Hobi had delighted you by letting you hang from his arm.

hoseok couldn't explain why when he looks at you he feels like crying. you're wrapped in your most comforting clothing, an old sweatshirt of his that he hasn't worn in two years and has a new hole at the hem like you've worn it every day in his absence. Giggling softly as you try and hang. Yoongi's hand twitches like he's sort of ready to catch you incase you teeter.

"You're so strong now! Bet you're stronger than Jungkookie even! you can lift me all the time not just when you wanna show off!"

"He could always lift you pup," Jin had crooned looking down at you, a head taller, stooping to drop a kiss on your forehead. His knowing smirk light and teasing. "Hobi just feels like lifting you is more for him than for you so he resists, kind of like how I feel about hugging- like this."

Jin has the longest arms but for what he can't reach Yoongi makes up for. The second he reaches around you and Hobi- Yoongi mirrors him. Both of them are in sync and Hoseok mistimed. off beat. Missing a step. Yoongi and Jin squeeze both of them pushing their chests together and trapping both you and Hobi in a Yoonjin sandwich.

Hoseok can feel how gently they do it. going slow so as to not aggravate his instincts. His alpha cocks his head, unused to the careful affection. They keep squeezing until both of you devolve into giggles and until Hoseok is laughing for real. Unbidden, face crumpling towards the end.

The pack house is part of a gated community. Insulated from the public eye by high walls and a guarded gate. It’s a mixture of modern Western architecture on the outside and traditional Korean wood tones and airy skylights on the interior.

Everyone has a bedroom although they more often than not find themselves scattered in pairs or trios. When the pack doesn't have a schedule to attend to the following day and your health allows for it- they pile into your bedroom heaped all over each other. Unworried about sleeping in uncomfortable positions or needing to wake up everyone to pee.

It's adjacent to your nest room and the kitchen on the ground floor- because you were as equally as prone to bumping into things and tripping as Namjoon. The pack couldn’t bear the idea of you having to go up and down the stairs every night.

You could call them overprotective and you would be right. Your comment about Hoseok carrying you wasn't just teasing. You're lucky your alpha's keep you on such a long (and thankfully metaphorical) leash.

Many many omegas find themselves in more controlling situations than you do. Monitored, and kept safe by personal bodyguards or packmates (often times beta's or lower ranking alphas whose sole job in the pack structure is to protect and guard the pack's omega).

The closest thing you have to that is Jungkook and Taehyung. You don't think it's that over the top. In some parts of the world omega's occasionally disappear. Snatched from street corners or stolen from nests in the dead of night. Usually just after the presentation when they haven't found a pack yet to keep them safe.

You're lucky that the pack only sometimes ask to carry you up and down the stairs. You're lucky they don't have the habit of 'omega wearing' as some more traditional all-alpha packs do. No one's kept omega's like that- as little more than pets- in generations. You don't live in a country that requires omegas to wear a collar when they're out in public.

But still, sometimes it's hard not to be protective. You're used to most of it, every time that you so much as pick up a butter knife someone's shushing you and taking it from you. When you bend down to tie your shoes someone is already on their knees before you. Your jacket is always zipped for you, mittens always on, scarf tucked. Whenever you try and put a shirt over your head someone is aiding you. You've lost track of the times that you've heard them say "let alpha do it."

Jimin doesn't even ask, he just glares and puts his hands on his hips if you struggle too much. Surprisingly stern when you feel like you want to squirm or struggle. He's one of the very few packmates whose not uncomfortable landing a swat over your behind or making you write lines.

Jimin is very very particular about the rules. there are others that apply to the rest of them like 'no staying at the studio over night' and 'pt once a week, no butts' and 'no skipping meals for practice' but there are other ones specifically for you that go a little over the top.

Rules like I will tell my packmates when I'm feeling overstimulated and I will not go places in public alone without someone there to protect me. I will not behave in a way that puts my physical wellbeing in danger even inadvertently. If I go into omegaspace I will go and get someone no matter what they're doing because I cannot be left alone unsupervised.

Other things too like- when i feel needy i will not touch myself like a greedy little pup when I have 7 healthy packmates to fuck me. When I want a knot I will not demand it but ask for it nicely and say please and thank you. I will not take out my plug after breeding until Jiminie or Hoseokie or Namjoonie has told me I can. When I want bruises during a spanking or a settling I will clear it with every alpha first starting with Hoseokie and then Yoongi and Namjoon, then Jinnie, and Jungkookie and Taehyungie, only then will Minnie take you over his lap.

And you'll say please and thank you.

You're getting a bit ahead of yourself. Jimin is a very very particular beta. You miss him so much it aches. You miss all of them so much it hurts you, manifests as a physical ache in your temples or under your ribs. A breathless furious need to burrow away where no one could see you. unsafe without your familiar cadre of packmates.

Most of the ways that they take care of you are completely innocent. A tangle in your hair is hardly there before someone asks you to come sit between their thighs, brush in hand. You rarely ever have to sit on your own, a rotating schedule of who gets to have you in their lap during meal times. You haven't picked out your own clothes in years- someone's always there to do it for you.

At least not before enlistment.

After enlistment, you'd learned to do alot for yourself again. With Yoongi home in the evenings, it wasn't quite as lonely as it could have been but still-

It's the little things, that you'd struggled to accept at first that you ended up missing the most. It's insane to you now how you used to live before. That you were used to being independent and uncared for.

Maybe the truth is you don't hate all of it. It was so much nicer than being hissed at and shunned. You don't hate it when you fall asleep in the car or the couch and Namjoon or Hoseok carries you to your bed. You don't hate it when you're in public and someone is always gripping your arm or hold your wrist and guiding over every uneven doorway or step down. holding the back of your head when they guide you to bite. You don't mind the "hold my hand pup" or "Someone's too small for that, let alpha do it."

It's strange sure, but it's a little true. even when you don't want to admit it.

It's strange when Seokjin blows on your spoon of soup before letting you take a bite. When the alphas growl at you if you linger too close to someone who's not them- But it makes you feel comfortable and cared for in a way that you weren't always used to.

Treasured. That's the word for it. You're their treasure. You don't cringe about it when you remember anymore. (The truth is that the pack has made you a bit spoiled now. You don't resist their babying nearly as much as you used too).

It had felt like something of a game at the beginning. You asked for things to see if you could and they fulfilled it, only to shrink before what they actually wanted to give. But eventually you got so used to them handling everything that even when you'd squirmed and struggled and called too much you'd trusted them enough to let them push- and you'd eventually given in.

Maybe you'd be more used to it if you were born an omega (you were born an omega, you try to remind yourself. It just feels like you weren't sometimes).

Now their bedrooms are spaces that you haunt when you miss them. when they're home there are still moments when they each need their own space to either sleep without temptation or decompress after their busy schedules. It serves no one if they always wake each other up by leaving early for filming, or practice, or meetings.

The only bedroom that’s fit with a bed big enough for all of them is your bedroom, more out of necessity than anything else since your bed is the defacto favorite. You’d tried for a normal bed when you’d first moved in but found it quickly overrun and too crowded by packmates. Giving you the largest bedroom was something Hoseok insisted upon.

His own bedroom is now across the courtyard next to Yoongi’s, hardly used. Last time Hoseok checked, Yoongi had taken to storing some of his recording equipment in there, had propped the old bed up against the wall to make room for a pseudo recording studio. Before enlistment Hoseok rarely spent a night away from you, only if you were sick again and if he had an early schedule and didn’t want to wake you- and even then- he'd just rather steal away to someone else's room rather than sleep on his own.

The packhouse is arranged in a big rectangle with an open-air courtyard at the center. The soil there is crammed close with as many plants as Namjoon can stuff there. Tended to by staff twice a week now that the alpha isn’t home regularly to look after his precious camellia and cloud-pruned spruces. The cherry tree sits stubby, blooms just tempting to burst but not here yet. by spring time a small patch of grass will sit studded with clovers and small flowers, a spot for you to lounge in the middle of the day and curl up like a cat in a puddle of sunshine.

Hoseok and Yoongi are on the other side of the courtyard adjacent to the entrance. close to it just incase anyone tried to enter. The rest of the pack is upstairs. In their various bedrooms scattered between the workout room and entertainment center a larger studio space and a tiny art room where taehyung stores his canvases.

Now, Hoseok sits in your empty bedroom. Trying to decompress. Emphasis on trying.

It's hard when every time he shuts his eyes a new memory assaults him. It's hard to stay present. Hoseok knows his breathing is getting more and more ragged the longer he spends alone. It's so quiet here in the pack house. Hoseok's alpha doesn't like it.

Hoseok closes his eyes and a gun goes off. The feeling of a gun in his hand is heavy and impersonal. Hot and sweaty beneath his fingertips.

He opens them and sees your striped red and pink robe hanging by the door, side by side with Taehyung's green and yellow one. Yours warn and his brand new but both of them purchased on the same day. Taehyung just hasn't been here to use it.

He closes them and a sergeant is yelling in his face. Prodding his shoulder with their finger until his body moves. Hoseok can feel the growl in his throat threatening to burst.

Hoseok opens his eyes and notes that you've dropped one of your heated stuffed animals on the ground, that it's rolled half under the bed, he retrieves it and sets it on the bedside table.

Hoseok blinks again and Hoseok must not be composed enough. He must lift his lip because they're yelling at him to drop and give 50. But it's better than being on night watch for a week. Better than sleepless nights spent staring into the darkness and snow, not better than your bed here, plush and soft, smelling like good summer evenings.

Hoseok undresses in the barrack bathroom shoving the second someone comes too close, body-calling threats before he's even turned to see who it is. Hot water is better than the cold that digs into Hoseok's body like it's something with teeth and claws.

On night watch near the northern border. His fear plays tricks on him, you can only look into the darkness for so long before your mind plays tricks on you. You can only hunt monsters and play at being a killer before you start to feel too real.

Hoseok takes a deep breath and counts to seven.

Tonight is supposed to be full of his favorite things. Marinated crispy beef and seafood that smells rich and buttery on the air, music playing low. Things that Hoseok hasn’t been able to indulge in in months.

Like Yoongi’s cooking and your head in his lap after. Winding down and going slow. Easy slowness warming up to it so that Hoseok can start to get used to living again. He'll go back to work tomorrow with Jinnie because he doesn't have time to waste but with this and everything else. He'll adjust.

Hoseok doesn't have to be asleep tonight by the zero hour and doesn't have to be up tomorrow morning for early drills. He can sleep as long as he wants and He's not going to be able to enjoy it at all. Not while he's so keyed up.

He tries and does his best. Breathing in and out to calm his heart rate, decompressing in the half-darkness of the bedroom. It feels a bit too much like a shrine. There in the corner is Taehyung's record player collecting dust, and there on the shelf is Jimin's cologne.

Jimin doesn't always like to hide his scent, lightly floral, something delicate like roses or lychee, fruity and divine for a beta. You like to press your face into his throat hard enough to make Jiminie giggle. Hard enough to tip him over. He's prone to exaggeration. But when it comes to others outside of the pack Jimin prefers to hide his scent with a light layer of cologne, pushing it just a little more subdued, a little more masculine.

Scents are up to everyone's preference, and a fair amount of betas wear scent blockers and Jimin prefers to keep his scent for only the pack to indulge in and enjoy.

Namjoon's bonsai tree sits in the nook by the window, clipping shears and a pair of reinforced gloves (because the pack can't even let you handle scissors without worrying a little). A piece of Jungkook's artwork hangs above the bed. something that was sort of a courting present for you, it's mostly artful splatters but when you look at it in just the right light- it almost looks like a pair of eyes. Pieces are everywhere but no pack.

All of it, all of those months of discipline and control are gone now. Done and over. Everything is in frightening detail. His civilian clothes sit folded, his jacket off in just his undershirt now.

You scented them. Hoseok can smell it even without bringing it to his nose. Everything feels a little too sensory, a little too close. Like Hoseok is too aware of his body and how different his surroundings are. He closes his eyes because he can't bear how strange his life all looks.

Hoseok knew he had to be the first alpha out, he knew that this would be difficult. That it would be hard for the others to adjust and that it would be beneficial for them all if the pack alpha came home and got settled first. Hoseok can't imagine any of his alpha pups feeling this way, can't imagine Taehyung or Namjoon or Jungkook feeling like this. So tremulous, so fragile, and yet so volatile.

There are no barked orders, there is no rigorous schedule here. Just the scrape of a wooden spoon across a pan and the quiet comfort of home (but hoseok still feels homesick). Jin's creaky laugh, and the burst of champagne. The shuffle of slippered feet across the floor too.

You’re talking to them in the kitchen, can hear Yoongi ask if you need help carrying Hoseok's champagne glass to him- a silly thing to say. but instincts are a little silly sometimes. Hoseok swallows back a lump in his throat at it.

It's not like you’re strangers again, he's had nightly phone calls and daily texts and a night or two of leave a month. It’s only been weeks since he last saw you. But keeping it together for a day before he goes back to the day-in-day-out rigor of the military is different than coming home for good.

This means more, this is different. Hoseok isn't going back. He's never going back.

He holds his breath and counts to seven, then 14, then 21, 35, 49, until he's half gasping.

Hoseok feels the need to catalog everything, the curtains pulled against the window. when did you stop sleeping with the sunlight?Your slippers by the door, new. The plates in the kitchen green instead of white. What happened to your old ones? When did you stop wearing bunny slippers and start wearing matching kitty ones with Yoongi? What more has Hoseok missed by not being here?

The scent of omega anxiety is on the air, scared and nervous. You’d been feeling all those things this morning when you’d woken. Hoseok can smell it on the bed. A nightmare? Have you been having nightmares? Is that what it is?

That’s not all Hoseok can smell, the dewy sweet scent of omega slick lingers too. Slightly stale. The spicey tang of another alpha’s arousal also tingles at Hoseok's nose. Yoongi’s and Jin’s if Hoseok breathes deep, tracing the fresh scent of tangerines and peaches, a pure scent that deepens. Soothing, a balm to his nerves and likely yours.

Whatever solution the others found for your anxiety was the intimate sort. Hoseok can tell.

Just like he can tell that someone had stripped the sheets, had taken your clothes- drenched with the scent of omega arousal, out of the basket in the corner and taken it out, probably to keep Hoseok from scenting it, probably to keep Hoseok from being on edge.

but instead of making him comforted, it just makes him feel like a failure.

Failure, failure of a pack alpha. what kind of alpha is he that he can't even handle a hint of a nightmare? He’s angry, and not at you or at Jin or Yoongi, but at the situation. At things he can't change.

Hoseok can't hear your light footsteps. Can hear them get closer and closer and closer until you're a silhouette in the doorway, lingering, unsure. Catching him like this, sat on the edge of the pack bed, legs parted, head in his hands.

Hoseok opens his eyes; a shadow cuts across the light that streams in, and he flinches before he can stop himself.

“Hobi? Are you alright?” You take a step closer to him and he tenses. You notice, stopping in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hobi-" you make to take another step closer and he lets out a sound, neither a hiss nor a whimper, neither a warning growl nor an invitation to come closer. Threat and protector blur.

For a second Hoseok's unsure if it's safe for you to be alone in the room with him.

“Stay back for a second pup, I’m sorry I’m just-” He takes off his beret, running his hands over his spiky hair. You probably thought that Hoseok went to shower minutes ago, not that he'd just be sitting here. “This is a little overwhelming.”

"What is? Us? Should we-" Hoseok nips it before your emotions have the chance to spiral.

“No. Not you- never you. Just-" he exhales shakily, trying to tame his racing heart rate. No matter how many times he tells himself there's no reason to be so on edge, Hoseok just can't will himself to relax.

"Is it being home? Being out?” Being free. It goes unspoken but Hoseok hears it and feels it regardless. He never imagined freedom to feel so stifling. To feel so unsure about his next move that he can't even make himself get up off this bed without worrying that he's going to lose control.

“No, it’s my instincts. I feel…” he trails off, resting a hand over his heart and hissing through it. You take a step back; his closed eyes shoot open and he lets out a growl. A real one. You freeze.

The tension is so thick in the air Hoseok could cut it with a dull knife. Do not let the omega escape, sweet omega, pretty omega, omega under your thumb. Protect devour provide devour, please.  His instincts are practically howling out in his ear. Loud, drowning out your words, the concern.

There is a furrow between your eyebrows, Hoseok wants to smooth it out and then bite your cheeks, round and flushed. Why are you blushing?

It takes him a second to answer. He registers you've asked him another question but he can't even hear it over the roar of his heartbeat.

“Sorry. Feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Oh you- oh Hobi. You’re alright. It’s over. We’re gonna be okay.” He hums skeptically when you say it. Blinking rapidly. He hopes its so dark you don't see the glassiness to his eyes. He doesn't respond right away. Can't.

It’s a reminder he’ll need again. He's going to need to hear you say it about a dozen times over the next week. You'll repeat it to him whenever his instincts get like this; whenever they go a little feral. A little haywire. He's not sure if he wants to burst into tears or stalk across the room and pin you to the wall.

It takes a second for Hoseok to work up the courage to be honest. A few seconds where you wait, swaying slightly in the doorway. You're wearing a matching pj set, the top has little iridescent buttons that catch the light like the eyes of a sea creature. The object of his every frustration and all his desires. The confession lurches from his chest, feels like a knife, and feels near violent. 

“I’m worried I don’t know how to be gentle with you anymore. They made me so- I’m worried I’ve forgotten. I don’t- I can’t-”

“What do you want to do right now? Tell me what you need.” your tone leaves no room for his anxiety and Hoseok realizes that his breathing has gone jagged. Hoseok is barely contained, teeth bared, alpha going wild at your scent. This time when you step closer, his alpha lets out a growl purr. A pleased sound, a soothing one. Tempting you closer. His legs are splayed, and a few more steps and you'd be standing in between them.

Hoseok’s hands are fisted in the sheets. He doesn't know if he can hold himself back. “Pup- I don’t, I can’t- i'm going to attack you-”

“Alpha.” Your voice cuts through the bullshit. You step closer and this time he doesn’t flinch away. You set your hand on his knee. Gentle. Barely touching. “What do you need alpha? What are your instincts telling you to do right now?”

He surges forward, stopping himself at the last moment. Your back against the door, swathed in shadow, a column of light flat across his face. Nose to nose with you. He grips your cheeks instead of your throat. You don't flinch and you don't sigh. Your reaction is immediate. Pushing into his touch. Hoseok's whole body is trembling with the effort it takes to stay gentle.

Hoseok hisses through his teeth. “My instincts are telling me you don’t smell like me anymore. That I need to bend you over this bed and make you mine from the inside out. Then take you out there and do the same to Yoongi and Jin until everyone's mine again. I want to devour you until there's no question who you belong to- until the whole world knows you're mine.”

He breaks off with a contemplative hum, and you realize how much his muscles are trembling, the dark tilt of his eyes as he stares at you, the dilation to his pupils. It’s faint, but it’s there. The physical strength it takes to hold himself back- you can't imagine.

he rests his forehead against yours. and his hand tightens to a fist on the wall. He lets your face go to skim his hand down your throat, feeling your pulse. Beating out a 120 tempo against his fingers. Then to your waist. Only a fool would mistake his touch for anything but claiming.

If you ran, Hoseok would catch you. You kind of want to do that, to run and have him hunt you down. You wouldn’t get far probably not even to the doorway. You imagine him taking you right there right where Yoongi and Jin could see.

They'd probably just tease you both and keep cooking.

Hoseok's hands smooth up and down your sides, from your spine to your ass. You let him touch. You're his in every way that matters anyway. You don't react or at least you try not too. You jump a little, when he squeezes, hissing appreciatively. His fingers continue to touch, to devour, slipping lower, palming, between your legs from behind.

He brushes something sensitive and you jerk. He growls. "Stay still omega."

"Trying alpha it's just-"

He undoes the buttons one by one on your top, hands surprisingly steady until it falls away from your shoulders. Hoseok nuzzles. Dark hair tucked beneath your chin as he mouths at your scent gland, hot breath dusting your skin. You're not worried or shy, Hoseok has seen all of you. You stay still until you feel the press of his teeth, jerking.

He squeezes your hip, reassuring you. The tension dissipates just a little.

"I’m so tired,” he laughs, and it sounds sad even to your own ears. He pulls back away from your skin, lips glossy and he rubs his hands over his face and then his hair. Your body burns when his hands leave your skin. It looks like it takes him real effort.

He leaves you there, standing half undressed by the doorway, shucking off his own shirt as he goes, setting it on the bed. Back to you.

There are bruises on his spine, up and down his back from a heavy pack or the strap of a gun you're not sure. You stumble forward, still half winded to touche them. Hoseok's body stills when he feels you come close.

You trace over them softly. Hoseok's breathing is so measured you know each breath must take herculean effort.

There have been so many weeks of teasing that have led up to this. Picture after picture, you pouting asking for your favorite alpha home. Pictures that Hoseok dared only open in the privacy of the bathroom that left little to the imagination. A shot of Yoongi's head between your thighs, a shot of you nesting in next to nothing. Virtual bait and blood in the water to Hoseok's hungry alpha more than willing to take a bite. All to give him something else to think about during that home stretch.

You wrap your arms around him and press your bare front to his warm back.

“I'm so tired that I don’t think I can be gentle, and I want to be gentle with you. I can’t not be gentle with you. I don't think I could do it without loosing control.” His fingers are mostly gentle as they pinch your cheeks, making your lips pout out. It's a little goofy.

Your eyes already look shiny, and he almost jerks when he registers the scent of slick on the air.

“Then don’t be gentle.”

“Pup.” There's a warning in his voice and he looks visible startled when he turns around. He pulls back until you let go of him, turn around. but you're not dissuaded easily, arms loose until he grabs your wrists. no matter how hard you pull you can't get them out of his grasp. but that's sort of the point.

You let Hoseok hold you, let him keep you still, a teasing smile on the edge of your lips. He huffs after a second, palms sliding up to your elbows. "You're gonna make me get more grey hairs."

"but you love me anyway?"

Hoseok nods. "but i love you anyway."

“if you can't be- then don't. Don’t be gentle, I don't care.” You’d tilted your head to the side. “Please alpha.”

Hoseok is a weak weak man. Hoseok cannot hold himself back from you. Not today. Hoseok proceeds to do exactly that, hunting and running and all. you smile and bolt, and hoseok bends to his instincts just this once.

You don't make it farther than the doorway.

Sprawled and giggling. Somewhere along the next few minutes, the sound of Seokjin and Yoongi cooking quiets, they listen but they don't interrupt. You try to push, try to fight but it's futile. it's all a game. Giggling all the while and it's like candy and conquest.

Hoseok's mouth runs wild like this- instinctual and driven.

"Is it too big for you little pup? Poor little omega stuck on a big knot, making you feel all full. Don't worry, alpha will fuck you until you're used to it again, until you feel empty without it. Keeping me warm and snug, is it too much? Don't cry, alpha will make it better. Alpha will keep you safe."

By the end of it. You'd been dazed and boneless, little more than a puddle of whimpers and whines. He had carried you tender and knotted to him in the direction of his pack. Instincts driving him to show (Hoseok is little better than a pup bringing his packmates a stick. See? See how good I bred omega, see how good I knotted her. She smells good and I made her this way for you. If he had a tail it would be wagging behind him.)

Dinner and celebration traded for a different sort of meal. Hoseok sits with you in his lap at the kitchen island. Yoongi dries his hands slowly from the sink and curses low when Hoseok holds you under your thighs, back to his chest. Spreading you for him.

"Fuck- I forgot how it looks like when you knot her it's so-"

It will take a good hour for Hoseok's knot to go down. Until then, the pack will play with you as they see fit, completely at their mercy, just the way that Hoseok likes you.

You always get a little bit more suggestible when you're knotted. Hoseok likes to think that you don't let them do everything they want to you when you are knotted but…you sort of do. While you're more than comfortable telling them off and showing off any wandering hands normally (and there are alot of wandering hands) you're almost docile when you're knotted to Hoseok.

Being knotted to the pack alpha is a bit of an invitation. Hoseok has watched the others jerk off over your chest like this, has watched them go between your legs and lap and suck to their heart's content, seen them kiss and suck until your eyes have rolled back. He doesn't mind. It doesn't make his instincts feel threatened. It feels good.

But only if Hoseok lets them. Maybe that's why you let them do it because in these moments, your bodies are locked together- you belong solely to Hoseok.

Hoseok's nose traces over your spine, over the nape of your neck. His alpha likes it very very much. The other alpha's like it too.

Now Yoongi eyes the spot where you stretch around him, the place you go pink and dewy, licking his lip and adjusting himself in his pants. Hoseok knows there's not a thing in the world he wouldn't give up for this.

Hoseok reaches between your legs. You whine when you feel him touch you, eyes fluttering against his throat, but Hoseok tips his fingers into your dewy folds, parts your lips and shows them. "opened right up, cute little cunt. Your whole body is lax, head full of mango colored cotton. the haze of pleasure just a little too much, a little too much to sort out your desire to please from everything else.

distantly you can hear yoongi's deep chuckle. "Your knot is the same size as mine. It looks like this when you do it too."

Yoongi's dark eyes are unreadable. The room smells like smoke, the burners are turned off, but no one is plating any food. Hoseok didn't even bother to undress just pulled down his pants enough to get his knot free. But you're nude clutched against his chest. Clothes torn up in the other room. Bite marks up and down your body.

Jin coos and looks you over. Hoseok feels…satisfied when the beta purrs in approval. The sight of it going straight to his head judging from the way his peach scent ripens on the air.

"It's different, it's different when it's yours."

You jerk once Jin comes close, his long fingers skimming places Hoseok can't see, buried against the back of your neck, mouthing at your nape hungry still. "Sensitive" you shutter but your pleas remain mostly ignored. a whine escapes your pressed lips and a furious blush lights down your midline. Jin keeps touching you. Hoseok wraps his arms around your middle to stop your squirming. Keeping you still so that the beta can do what he wants with you.

"Alpha bit me there too." You mumble against Hobi's throat, shifting restlessly from whatever Jin is doing. Shifting more. "Jinnie- I'm sensitive,"

You nearly flinch, but Jin's thumb presses. "Oh here? Right here?" Hoseok's teeth dip into the nape of your neck and you go boneless. Hobi laps at the pink skin when he pulls back. you pant openly, incapable of letting out more than whines.

"Let Jinnie see what alpha did to you pup." Jin drops to his knees to look closer and hobi holds you wider.

When he looks up, he makes eye contact with Hobi before you. His smile goes a little teasing.

"This little spot right? It's a very cute little spot, I understand why Hobi bit it."

Hoseok's nose traces your ear. "Don't act like it didn't make you cum." you sniffle but nod. Hoseok's knot throbs at your simple obedience. the way that you agree. It makes Hoseok want to bite you more if it's even possible. He laps at your throat some more to ignore the temptation.

"Oh? Alpha was mean? Let Jinnie kiss it better."

~-~

You end up ordering takeout. Yoongi burnt the meat too bad to be edible.

Later there is this; you cuddled up on his chest, nearly nude, wearing someone's boxers as shorts as you often do post-breeding. You claim it helps you feel closer to your alphas and although stealing clothes is pretty typical of an omega. Jin still teases, "you're not even wearing ours; those are Jungkook's."

Yoongi had stood up, pawing for his phone. "I'm gonna send him a picture- he's gonna love-" Yoongi's fingers pause on your hem. a shocked laugh bursting from his throat. "Hobi you literally left teeth marks on her ass."

Hobi's arms go firmer around you and he's about to apologize when you beat him to the punch. "I like it. If anyone gets angry tell them not to because I liked it. Makes me feel-" You shimmy and hiss at the ache in your body. "Makes me feel like I'm yours again."

There is a lump in Hoseok's throat, and his instincts go just a little more quiet. He's so fixated on that that he hardly hears your next reply, the teasing tone of your voice.

"And besides Jungkook's boxers are so much softer than yours."

"Yah-"

"You little brat." You shake against Hoseok's chest with the force of his laughter. And jump when yoongi reaches out to pinch the bruises. yoongi hadn't cum more than once earlier, and hoseok knows that although the other alpha is the least deprived out of all of them- he's still needy, still a little wound up by seeing it earlier.

They make eye contact over your head and Hoseok feels a little satisfied when yoongi looks away first.

"Fine, be like that, I'm gonna wash all my sweatshirts then and you won't have any left for your nest."

Your expression had gone suddenly panicked, "but- but-"

Now your bellies are full from takeout because Yoongi had actually ruined dinner- granted he had good reason to be distracted. Hoseok feels properly worn down, properly settled, there's still a tiny bit of anxiety in him, and his alpha still looms awfully close. But he knows that won't really go away for a good long while. Not until the whole pack is back here and safe. The doors locked and the windows shuttered.

Yoongi gets up when you ask for water, and Jin gets up when you realize you've neglected to put on your eye cream. Both strange things. In any other world Namjoon and Jimin would have done both of those things for you.

He might just confine them all to your bedroom for their first week back. His alpha likes the idea of that. You purr softly against his chest, and Hoseok holds around you with that same gentleness that he'd been craving earlier, finally capable of it with you smelling like him and the others too. They had only done the bare minimum of cleaning themselves up with lazy swipes of a damp cloth.

With three packmates wrapped around you, Hoseok under you, cheek resting over his heartbeat to listen, Yoongi against your back, and Seokjin at your front Hoseok finally feels like it's enough. You're safe like this. Nothing could ever hurt you.

Not even himself.

A concerning number of bruises trace up your thighs that Hoseok will apologize and worry over tomorrow. Even though you've told him you don't mind them- that you even like them. Everything can wait until tomorrow, healing included. Hoseok finally gets the courage to ask.

"When I came into this room, it set me off. I can tell you were anxious this morning when you woke up. What was it? Was it me?" He has to crane his neck to catch your expression and how your face goes from stricken to polished in a second.

"It was nothing, we handled it." Seokjin tries to smooth over it. But Hoseok’s warning growl cuts him off.

You trace mindless patterns over his heart, and your purr peters off. "I had this weird dream; it was a nightmare and just weird." You pause, looking up at him. Your expression is so calm that Hoseok doesn't believe it for a second. "In the dream you hated me, or at least really didn't like me." Hoseok's hold on you goes just a little tighter like his alpha is offended by the very idea of it. "There was glass everywhere and Tae was wearing pink."

Yoongi speaks, and Hoseok knows he's taking it seriously just trying to make you feel better by being a little silly."That's not that weird, Tae wears pink all the time."

"Only when he steals Jin's clothes."

"Did you know he got ketchup on the last one? I swear these kids-"

You peak up at Hobi tentatively. And he can tell that you're still a little upset by the dream. "Don't worry- I think by the end of the dream we loved each other and anyways-" You kiss his jaw, pecking at it and a lazy growl builds in his chest, spent cock twitching below you. His appetite is insatiable even after three rounds. Once on the floor, and again on the kitchen table. And again here.

"It didn't make any sense; Yoongi was a beta in it and Jinnie was an omega like me." you trace circles over his heart. "It was a bit ridiculous."

Jin ducks low pressing a kiss to your forehead, “yeah, as much as I love you being an omega I don’t know how you handle all of us pawing at you like this. I’d get like so overstimulated. And you’ve told me how sleepy you get.”

“Yeah, it is a little annoying, needing more sleep than you guys do to like. Function.”

"And like I could ever be anything but an alpha." Yoongi looks a little fragile, a little threatened by the dream. Hoseok wonders what else was in it if the other alpha is so on edge. Because there must have been more. “I can’t imagine not having instincts at all.” Jin pinches him and Yoongi jumps.

You don't have to look to know Jin's rolling his eyes. “Yeah like not growling and not nosing after anything that smells even a little bit sweet is such a curse.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when I was nosing at you yester-“ Yoongi is interrupted by a pillow to the face, feathers fluttering down as you giggle against Hobi's chest.

Hoseok ignores the bickering, still watching you. "What was I in your dream? Was I an alpha?"

"Yes, but you weren't mine." You scoot closer to him, wiggling like just the weight of your body isn't enough to get close enough. Hoseok has a feeling that in a few minutes, you're going to start tugging at the hem of his boxers and ask to cock warm him to sleep. Some nights your omega just doesn't like any distance between you and your pack alpha and now that you have him back you don't want to let him go even a little bit. You could use a plug- but your omega wouldn't like it now that you have the real thing.

(omega plugs are fairly standard, alot of packs make omega's wear them to sleep or when they go out. A physical reminder to the omega soft minded and a way to ensure they're docile. There are even fancy ones that log body temperature, dampness and location. Sending notifications to the alpha's phone and information like rem sleep and lengh of orgasam. The pack has never needed one of those with you.)

Now though hoseok wishes he had some sort of insight into what you're thinking as you rest your cheek on his chest and look up at him. frowning and thinking hard. hoseok's thumb rubs over the nobs of your spine, up and down.

“You kind of hated me and you were so sad. I couldn’t do anything about it. That's what made me anxious- the idea of you being sad and not being able to fix it.”

You turn to nuzzle into his shoulder. The movement is so routine, so normal it almost looks like breathing. Hoseok's heart hurts from it. Your scent smells a little disconcerted, a little worried. Like just the memory of the dream is enough to set you on edge. “Like I said it was a nightmare."

Hoseok just holds you tighter, dragging his cheek along the top of your head. His scenting is a little overkill given the circumstances. any alpha in a 3 mile radius would be able to tell it's him that's claimed you.

"Yeah," he says, voice rough and quiet. "Sounds like a nightmare to me too."

~-~ Stay tuned for the next part ~-~

Notes:

sometimes i feel like i frame certain scenes like i'm not like- writing a story so much as vissually looking at a tv and describing what i'm seeing. this is one of those fics that very much felt like that.

i feel like this story is more of a true story vs a plot. i've made no secret of the fact that what i really like about fanfiction is making a world that you can sink your teeth into- and i feel like this one- this universe with pack alpha hoseok is like- ugh so drippy. like i truly hope you leave reading it and feel frustrated that you're not there- even though not all of the things described in it are good. for that reason i think there's less plot in this. like i just want it to be something that envelops you- not necessarily something that progresses although there definitely is plot to it.

i toyed alot with the idea of having there be shifting wolves in the one. i put that little tidbit in with taehyung just incase i fell like touching on it here. but honestly i may not have enough time.

i think one of the scent fortified drinks that yoongi drank too much of in their trainee days was probably "omegabull" or "omegaster" idk i didn't put it in because it felt too goofy. my favorite redbull is cranberry flavor :) maybe i'd smell like cranberries if i was an omega?

okay so- the pack's scents in this- i know it's not mentioned all that much in the first chapter- but!!! their scents for hoseok and the m/c are what their scents would have been had they not been abused in bily- this universe is sort of a foil of the other one. but yeah- hoseok would have smelled like mangos :( i know not everyone will read bily who reads this so! i tried to make the allusions to it less on the nose than in the first draft.

tbh that little bit with the plates being new, this is a. a bily refrence because remember how yoongi breaks them when she leaves? yeah this version of yoongi also broke dishes when the pack left. BUT ALSO- i do think i wanna touch a bit more on yoongi and her's time alone togeather. i like the idea that in every universe, they have their moment where it's just the two of them.

the scene at the end is just hoseok: ready to pounce on the m/c scared of himself and the idea that he could hurt her meanwhile the m/c: thats hot.

the moment where he says "the object of his frustration and all his desires' is a nod to bridgerton because i was re-watching it and loving it.

if we're being honest i think that beta's might be intersex in this universe, do i really really wanna write jimin and her rubbing their pussies together? yeahhhhhhhh, am i actually gonna write it??? probably not.

[ihavethemangoes]

WE DON’T GATEKEEP WEAVING TECHNIQUES IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!

So to start this is double cloth (meaning I have two different warps, they’re threaded on 4 frames and each slot in the reed has two strings, one from each warp)

Step one: lift up the entirety of one warp (for me, pedals 2 and 4), then select the design with a pickup stick/sword/the fiber only thingy

Step 2: Go to your OTHER warp (1 and 3 for me) with the stick still in and do a back and forth of plain weave, take the stick out to beat

Step 3: Pick up the background with the stick (aka anything you didn’t pick up before, 1 and 3 for me)

Step four: Plain weave with the other warp AND a different weft (2 and 4 for me) take out the stick and beat

Step 5: Repeat! You can do this with any pixel designs, provided you have enough warp strings to have 2 per square

Fair warning, be EXTREMELY careful with your selvages (edges of the warp), they pull in the sides a lot more than regular plain weave. Happy weaving!

[lily-jaxk]

MC Twin AU - SYLUS'S Darling

You couldn't believe it, but you had been kidnapped.

You weren't even scared. Okay, that was a lie. You were terrified, but you were also really annoyed.

And flattered.

Well, being kidnapped means you must mean a lot to someone, right? So much that your kidnapper would think to make that person panic, they would kidnap you. How sweet!

But still so annoying. Why you?! What could your kidnapper possibly gain from kidnapping you?

You weren't rich, nor did you have a rich friend or partner. Information? Sure, you knew this world was a video game, but that didn't mean you knew everything.

You pause your thoughts as your kidnapper removes the blindfold they had placed around your eyes. You blink, then deadpan. "You have got to be kidding me."

You couldn't believe it. Of all the people to have kidnapped you, it had to be the twins!?

Meaning, it had to be the boss of Onychinus!??

You stare at the twins in masks before you, then let out a long sigh. Now that you knew who had kidnapped you, you just couldn't find it within yourself to be scared at all. "Quick question." You begin, shifting in your chair and cocking your head to the side. "Did you mean to kidnap me, or did you mean to kidnap MC?"

The twins look at each other. " . . . . Are you not MC?" one of them, who you assume is Luke, asked, and a loud groan leaves you. "God. Damm it!"

Sometimes, you really hated the fact that you and the MC were identical twins, because sometimes you ended up in shitty situations like these!

Unbelievable! Truly unbelievable!

"Hey, are you not MC?"

"But she looks just likes her . . . . does that mean MC has a twin or something?"

"Why wouldn't the Boss Man tell us then?"

"Idiot, what if MC didn't tell Boss Man that she had a twin? So how would he know?"

"But why wouldn't she tell him about her twin?"

"Why would she tell him about her twin?"

"But why wouldn't she?"

"But why would she?"

What were you witnessing? Did they act like this in game? What the fuck was going on?

You couldn't help but watch with morbid fascination as the twins continued to argue back and forth with each other. Did all twins do this? Did you and MC do this? You probably did, but is this what it was like to experience it?

The three of you freeze as the door opens, and you watch a very familiar, very attractive man walk in. Deep red eyes, beautiful white hair, it was Sylus in the flesh, alright.

Ok [Name], breathe in, and breathe out. Sure, the man who made you actually focus on the game is before you. Sure, the man whose myth you sobbed over is breathing the same air as you. And sure, the man you wasted hours upon hours grinding to get all his cards is now walking towards you, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was getting out of this place alive.

Because you weren't MC, who had half of his heart. You were [Name]. a simp who could probably die if you weren't careful. And quite frankly, even dying can be expensive.

Damm this shitty economy. You couldn't wait for Philos.

You shift in your chair as Sylus stops in front of you, his red gaze pinning you down. ". . . You're not MC," he murmurs, a smile forming on his lips.

You blink. "Holy shit you can tell."

"Wait, so MC actually has a twin?"

"Huh, so we aren't the only twins here anymore!"

"How cool is that?"

A dark chuckle leaves Sylus's lips, and he leans down to grasp your chin, bringing your face closer to his. "You look like her," he continues, his thumb rubbing your chin, "But there's a tiny little mole underneath your eye. Right . . . . there."

You could only stare up at Sylus with slightly wide eyes, trying to shove down the simping part of you. No! This was a serious moment! Down girl! Down! "What . . . . what are you - wait, who even are you!?"

He merely laughs. "Hello, darling. I'm glad to see you again."

You pause. What? What did he mean by that?

See you again?? Had the two of you met before?? The fuck??

Prologue | Caleb | Zayne | Xaiver | Rafayel | Sylus |

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | Sylus | 18+

I was supposed to post the final part of the Caleb part, and Rafayel Part 2, but um...here ya go!

[enhaflixer]

what do you think ni-ki ' s kinks are ?

You wanna know what’s going on in that tall, smug, demon little brain?

1. Degradation (but it’s weirdly loving)

“Look at you. Whining and squirming just ‘cause I touched your thigh. You’re so easy it’s actually insane.”

He’s the type to say the nastiest things to you while holding your face like it’s made of glass.

He doesn’t just degrade—you can feel the affection behind it. He’s obsessed with how desperate you get for him and will absolutely mock you for it while still kissing your forehead.

Expect:

• “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

• “So cockdrunk you forgot how to talk already?”

And he’s proud of it.

2. Power Play / Control

He talks big, teases constantly, acts like he’s always in control—but secretly loves the back-and-forth.

He thrives off knowing he can control you, but loses his mind the second you take control back.

He’ll literally be like:

“I’m in charge—wait why are you on top? No. No wait, I didn’t—ok fine but make it filthy.”

Wants to own you and be ruined by you. He’s duality in one body.

3. Spit kink (like. Excessive.)

The man is a menace with his tongue. On stage. Off stage.

And you know he’d use it to humiliate you in the best way.

• Spits in your mouth while calling you his “pretty little sink”

• Wipes it across your lips just to see your face after

• Makes you beg for it and says “open wider” even when you’re already shaking

It’s messy. It’s constant. And he lives for the reaction.

4. risky behavior

Not full exhibitionism, but dangerous levels of brat energy.

Hand on your thigh under the table. Whispering filth into your ear in public. Making you wear a vibrator and texting you things like:

“If I see you bite your lip again I’ll drag you to the bathroom. Say thank you.”

The more flustered you get, the more energized he becomes.

Absolute chaos gremlin. Whispers the worst things to you just to see you blush and squirm.

5. Humiliation kink (with praise laced in)

He’d say something degrading and then coo softly like,

“Aww, look at you. So embarrassed. So cute when you cry. My perfect little slut.”

He doesn’t want to break you.

He wants to make you cry from overstimulation, degradation, and love.

He gets off on seeing you fall apart—and knowing he did that to you.

what do yalllll think??

[n6ptunova]

camera roll with bf!matt

backstory of each pic at the end <3

backstory of each pic:

༻ʚ 1. “i loveee this outfit on you, you look so cute,” you smirked knowing your boyfriend doesn’t take compliments well.

“this outfit? you have weird taste.” he rolled his eyes but you can see the corner of his lips fighting back a smile.

you ignore his comment and move away from him as he gives you a questioning look. his confusion is gone when you pull out your film camera from your drawer. “is this really worth film?”

“yes, the fit, your hair, and mr wrinkleton- this is important!! smile please.” he then finally posed, barely smiling but that’s as much as you’re gonna get out of him.

༻ʚ 2. “matt, stop!” you giggle running away from matt who had started a pillow fight earlier. you walked into his room wearing his pj bottoms (from pic 1) and told him they’re yours now. he claimed it’s his favorite but it was yours too :( you unintentionally declared a war when you said if he wants them back he’ll have to take it himself.

that’s when he stood up and started chasing you and it turned into a pillow fight. see, he doesn’t actually care about the pants- you can have his entire closet if you asked. but he loved teasing you just as much as you loved annoying him.

you run into nick’s room yelling, “ nick, help! your brother is trying to kill me!”

“she stole my pants, i want them back!” he laughed, out of breath.

“aren’t boyfriends supposed to like giving their clothes to their girlfriends? stop being a loser matt.” nick said, pulling out his phone to record this. “EXACTLY, tell him nick!!”

matt finally got a hold of you as he tackled you into nick’s bed, both of you giggling and play flighting while nick eventually gets tired and kicks you both out.

༻ʚ 3. you and matt agreed to keep your relationship offline for at least a year. well it was finally your one year anniversary and matt surprised you with a trip just the two of you.

you woke up cuddled in matt’s arms, he gave you a soft kiss as he struggled to fully wake up. you’re more of a morning person than he is so you sat up taking in the view from the hotel and that paired with how fine your boyfriend is you decided to take a “soft launch” picture asking matt if you can post it to which he nods. the pic became a fan favorite amongst his fans for obvious reasons :)

༻ʚ 4. before this picture was taken, you and matt were in his room…making out…a lot. it was getting intense with his grip on your waist guiding your hips back and forth on his lap while your hands pull and tug on his hair and his tongue down your throat.

before this went any further you hear a loud yell from chris saying ‘food’s here.’ groaning you get up off him admiring how fucked he looks. “wait a few minutes, i can’t go out with a hard on.” you laughed and said you’ll meet him outside.

when he comes out of his room his hair is still a mess and he looked as fine as ever. you told him and nick to pose for a friday dump but really, you just wanted to this look on your boyfriend. you’ll definitely pick up where you left off tonight.

༻ʚ 5. beach date with matt <3

༻ʚ 6. matt was playing with your puppy and you left them to go make some food, when you came back you found them napping together on the ground making your heart melt. you love them both so much.

tag list🤍 ~ @mattscoquette @et6rnalsun @norr1ssturni0lo @sturnsxplr-25

if you wanna be added please lmkk <3

[ivyues]

Tangled Lines | 1 | ⋅ Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

What started as a simple favor, dropping off a bag, spirals into a whirlwind of unexpected feelings and unspoken tension.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

It was supposed to be a quick errand. Lee Know had left his bag at home, and you were on your way to Seoul for a short trip anyway. You’d planned to drop it off at his dorm – no big deal. You didn’t expect much, certainly not a run-in with anyone other than your brother.

You followed the directions Lee Know had sent you and pulled up to the apartment complex. He'd mentioned his dorm several times, but this was the first time you’d ever actually been here. As you walked up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure.

You rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, the door swung open, and there stood a guy you didn’t recognize.

He was tall-ish, dressed casually, with messy dark hair and an easy smile. And though you didn’t know exactly who he was, you couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked, his eyes lighting up with surprise and curiosity when he saw you standing there with a bag in hand.

“Hi…?” You hesitated, unsure if you had the right place. “Uh, I’m looking for Lee Minho? I’m his sister – he left something at home and I’m supposed to drop it off.”

The guy blinked in confusion for a split second, then his expression softened into something warmer. “Ah, so you’re his sister. He didn’t really mention that he has one. I’m Seungmin, by the way. Hyung isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”

You were still standing at the door, processing everything. This was definitely not Lee Know. You had imagined this whole interaction would be simple: drop off the bag, say a quick hello, and head out. But there was something about Seungmin’s easy going demeanor that made you hesitate.

“Oh,” you said, realizing you were probably standing there awkwardly. You tried to adjust the bag in your hand, giving him a nervous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just leave it here—”

“No, no,” Seungmin cut you off, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. Come on in. He would probably kill me if I didn’t let you inside. Lee Know’s stuff is everywhere, though – warning in advance.” He gave a sheepish grin, clearly used to the chaos.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, stepping inside.

As soon as you entered, you realized that he was right – Lee Know’s ‘stuff’ was indeed scattered everywhere. Shoes piled near the door, jackets on the couch, random snacks, and clutter in every corner. It felt so… lived-in. Real. It was kind of charming, in a messy, chaotic way.

“So, do you guys always live like this?” you asked, half teasing, half amused by the clutter.

Seungmin chuckled. “You should see Felix’s side. This is nothing compared to his mess.” He led you into the living room, where he motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water for you while you wait.”

As Seungmin disappeared into the kitchen, you sat down on the couch, looking around. You hadn’t expected to spend time here, but the laid-back atmosphere made it feel oddly comfortable. You noticed a few framed photos of the group on the wall – some from concerts, others just candid shots of the guys laughing together.

Seungmin returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. He sat down on the arm of the couch, casually resting one foot on the seat. He didn’t seem rushed, nor did he act weird about the fact that you were here in Lee Know’s absence.

“So, I take it you and Lee Know are pretty close?” Seungmin asked, taking a sip from his own glass of water.

“Yeah, we’re close,” you said with a smile. “He’s my older brother, so, of course, he’s annoying. But that’s what older brothers are for, right?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips curving into a grin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You laughed, the easy back-and-forth making you feel more comfortable. And, truth be told, you found yourself glancing at him more than you had planned. He was cute, undeniably so, with his expressive eyes and the way he seemed so effortlessly relaxed even in the middle of a stranger walking into his home.

You casually brought up something about how Lee Know was always messing around with his bandmates, and Seungmin smiled at the comment, sharing a story of their last rehearsal and how Lee Know had pulled a prank on Hyunjin. It felt so easy, like you were just chatting with a friend you’d known forever.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and you looked up to see Lee Know walking in with Felix and I.N trailing behind him. He froze when he saw you sitting there with Seungmin, a strange look flashing across his face.

“Uh,” Lee Know said, his voice tinged with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag,” you said casually, holding it up for him. “You left it at home. Seungmin was nice enough to let me wait for you.”

Lee Know shot a quick glance at Seungmin, who was now grinning, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you two are already chatting it up?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied smoothly. “We were just getting to know each other. Your sister’s cool.”

Seungmin didn’t just mean it as a compliment; there was a teasing note to his voice, and you could tell he was just enjoying the moment with Lee Know. But there was something in the way he spoke, as though he was daring Lee Know to be annoyed. You could tell it was playful – he wasn’t quite serious, and he didn’t think anything more would come from it. After all, he didn’t even want to start anything that might cause trouble. But for now, he wanted to tease Lee Know, especially since it was so easy to get a rise out of him like that.

You stood up, handing Lee Know the bag. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You could tell by the way Seungmin looked at you that he wasn’t just teasing you; there was something more genuine behind the conversation. But of course, you’d never let your brother know that.

-----

Felix, ever the social butterfly, had exchanged numbers with you long before, and somewhere in the process of joking group chats and shared chaos, Seungmin had slid into your messages.

The texts started off simple.

A casual “thanks for the water” message after your first visit turned into occasional updates about Lee Know: "Your brother’s sulking because Changbin ate his snacks again" or "Did he always hoard laundry like this?" 

You didn’t think much of it at first. After all, Seungmin was easy to talk to. He had a quick wit that matched your sarcasm, and his humor always made you laugh harder than you’d admit. But the conversations had shifted somewhere along the way – becoming more personal, more frequent.

It wasn’t just updates about Lee Know anymore.

Seungmin: “Did you see that new ramen place on your side of town?”

You: “I’ve heard it’s good. Why, thinking of coming all the way here?”

Seungmin: “Maybe I just needed an excuse.”

It was subtle, these shifts. A lingering tone of something that felt like flirting but stayed safely within the lines of plausible deniability. But you caught yourself smiling at his messages more than you should.

The problem was, you liked him.

Not in a passing way or a harmless crush you could laugh off later. No, Seungmin’s steady humor and surprising kindness were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just cute; he was the kind of guy who listened, who noticed little things, who made you feel at ease even when you were overthinking everything.

But every time you thought about it – about what it might mean – you hit a wall.

Your brother’s voice played in your head whenever you thought about crossing that invisible line. What would he think if he knew? Worse, what if it messed things up in the group? You didn’t want to be the reason Seungmin hesitated during practice or avoided Lee Know’s eye.

And Seungmin? Well, he had his own internal battle.

The teasing texts and playful banter were easy – familiar ground that didn’t require him to confront how he was starting to feel about you. But when you sent him a photo of the ramen you’d finally tried, captioned with "Guess you missed out", he stared at his screen longer than he should have.

It wasn’t the photo or the food. It was your smile, that small, effortless curve of your lips that had been stuck in his mind since the day you showed up at the dorm.

"Get it together, Seungmin," he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know was his friend, his brother in everything but blood. And falling for you wasn’t just breaking an unspoken rule; it felt like betraying that bond.

One night, after a long day of rehearsals, Seungmin found himself scrolling through your chat history. His finger hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply to your latest message. You’d sent him a photo of one of your cats – curled up in a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He smiled despite the unease feelings, typing back before he could second-guess it:

“Looks like you’re more of a cat person too. Must run in the family.” You replied instantly “I love my cats, but I don’t mind dogs either. Don’t tell Lee Know though – he’d probably disown me for even saying that.” and the conversation spiraled into a late-night exchange about pets, chaotic siblings, and everything in between. It was easy. Too easy.

And then you said something that made his heart stop.

“I always feel like I can tell you anything. Weird, right?”

He stared at the words, feeling a tug in his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to feel proud of that – of being someone you trusted. But all he could think about was how wrong it felt to be the person catching feelings for you.

He set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’d noticed the shift in his texts lately – the hesitation, the shorter replies. You felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he was pulling back, realizing that this… whatever it was between you… shouldn’t be happening.

And you couldn’t blame him. You’d thought about pulling back yourself.

But instead, late one evening, you found yourself typing out a message you weren’t sure you’d send.

You: “I feel like we’ve both been avoiding something. And I get it – I do. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. And I don’t want to mess things up for you or my brother, so if this needs to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before pressing send.

Seungmin: “I care about you too. Probably more than I should. But I don’t want this to hurt anyone – least of all you.”

The relief of his words hit you immediately, but so did the weight of his hesitation.

You: “So what do we do?”

Seungmin hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed:

Seungmin: “We take it slow. We’re honest – with each other, with Lee Know, when the time’s right. And if this starts feeling wrong, we stop. No questions asked.”

-----

Seungmin sat in the practice room long after everyone else had left. He fiddled with his phone, the screen dark, but his thoughts racing. He had made a decision, one he couldn’t back out of now.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling to your name in his messages.

Seungmin: “I’m going to talk to him.”

The three dots indicating your reply appeared almost instantly.

You: “Are you crazy?”

Seungmin could almost hear your voice in the text – half incredulous, half offended.

You: “I mean, I get it. He deserves to know, and I respect that. But seriously… you’re telling him this?”

Seungmin: “I don’t want to go behind his back. It’s not just about this – it’s about the group, too. This has to be on the table.”

You: “Fine. But don’t expect me to save you if he kills you.”

He smiled faintly at the reply but couldn’t shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

When Lee Know walked into the practice room, his phone still in his hands, he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”

Seungmin stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Waiting for you.”

Lee Know gave him a wary glance, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin started, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk for a minute? Like, for real?”

Lee Know’s expression shifted slightly at the earnestness in Seungmin’s voice. “Okay… What’s up?”

Seungmin sat back down on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about your sister.”

Lee Know’s posture straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to meet Lee Know’s gaze. “Since she dropped off your bag… we’ve been talking. Just texting, mostly. Nothing serious has happened, and I swear it hasn’t crossed any lines. But… I like her.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Lee Know blinked slowly, his face unreadable.

“You like her?” he repeated, his tone flat.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. And I wanted to tell you before anything else happened because…” He exhaled, his voice softening. “Because I respect you, hyung. You’re like a brother to me, and I don’t want to screw that up by hiding something like this from you.”

Lee Know stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between disbelief and scrutiny.

Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you? Of all people?”

Seungmin let out a dry laugh. “What, am I not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lee Know shot back, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Trust me, it’s unexpected for me too,” Seungmin admitted.

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You’re not messing around, are you? This isn’t some prank or… I don’t know, something stupid?”

“It’s not a joke,” Seungmin said firmly. “I mean it. And honestly…” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe it won’t even go anywhere. I don’t know. It’s early, and nothing has really happened yet. But I’d rather be upfront about it than hide it.”

Lee Know studied him for another long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this. She’s my sister, Seungmin. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely. “You’re you.”

Lee Know leaned forward, his voice dropping as he let out a soft groan. “But I get it. She’s great. And I can't exactly tell her who to see.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, relief flickering across his face.

“That said,” Lee Know continued, his tone sharpening again, “if you screw this up – even a little – I will make your life miserable. And I don’t mean in a fun, teasing way. Got it?”

Seungmin nodded seriously. “Understood.”

Lee Know leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t,” Seungmin said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Seungmin stood up. “Thanks, hyung.”

As Seungmin left the practice room, Lee Know called after him, “And don’t expect me to go easy on you during dance practice!”

-----

Later that night, Seungmin texted you.

Seungmin: “Mission accomplished. I’m alive, and your brother didn’t kill me.”

You: “I’m surprised. I half-expected him to throw you out a window.”

Seungmin: “He might have, but I reminded him how irreplaceable I am. Also, he threatened me, so we’re all good now.”

You laughed at the text, shaking your head.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: “Seriously? The dog? I’m telling Songie, Dongie, and Dori that you don’t love them anymore.”

pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | masterlist

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Part 5 is here.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

-

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

-

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

-

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

-

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

-

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

-

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

[m4y4wasnthere]

i’m not pretending

dallas x f!reader ; fake dating scenario

fic request here

warnings: cursing, oral giving, degradation, praise, hair pulling ; smut with plot!

a/n: this is a wayyy longer fic than my other ones so um, be prepared. this one also is a bit more ooc dallas 😭

summary: your obsessive ex is getting super unbearable to the point you go to Dallas Winston for help. A fake dating scenario long enough to make your ex lose interest in you, along with a few rules, one of which says no catching feelings. this never works out well 😒

“look, I know we aren’t the best of friends but please! it won’t be awhile, maybe just a month or two, he keeps following me everywhere!”

You were following Dallas along the sidewalk begging him to agree to fake a relationship with you. You two were definitely not close at any means but he was your best bet at getting some kind of privacy from your obsessive ex.

“christ’s sake, fine! now stop being so annoyin’ and followin’ me around, go back home or wherever man,” he stated while abruptly stopping. You bumped into him and he gave you a cold glare over his shoulder. You got the hint and backed away.

“meet me at the Dingo tomorrow, we can discuss more about it.” You walked back home content with yourself with convincing him, but you had no idea how far this plan would go.

✰ ✰ ✰

“okay lets make a list of rules. uh, for number one, no kissing,” you got out a piece of paper and started to scribble down.

“a list? Who do you think I am?” Dallas fiddles with a small jumble of some garbage wrap from a straw. He doesn’t look at you but his eyebrows are furrowed while trying to make a paper ring out of it.

“yes, a list.” You shoot him a glare, he doesn’t bother to see. “maybe if you made lists, you wouldn’t always be losing your wallet,” you muttured under your breath.

“no kissing? look, I’m not lookin’ forward to this but I’m smart enough to know that nobody is gonna buy this if we don’t kiss.” Dallas snatched the pencil away from you and tried to erase the rule.

“i’m not wasting my first kiss on you.” Dallas paused and you were expecting a snarky remark but he just sighed.

“no kissing, on the lips, how ‘bout that?” He jotted down on the paper. You nodded in slight appreciation, he gave the pencil back to you and the two of you spent the rest of the hour going back and forth making up rules.

Your list came out to be this:

1. no kissing on the lips

2. no flirting/hooking up with other people

3. we each have to give each other something to show our relationship is real

4. weekly dates

5. stop only in private

6. pet names are needed

7. dont tell anyone

8. no catching feelings

the two of you didn’t have strict boundaries other than the last one. neither of you thought it would be hard rule to follow, your mutual dislike made it all really easy.

you guys agreed on starting this ‘contract’ tomorrow.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 months since this fake dating agreement started. you found that Dallas wasnt as insufferable as you originally thought. he was funny with his wit commentary, his sarcasm, his carelessness about everything, you admired him in a way.

he was also beautiful, you noticed it before but never wanted to admit it. his dark hair complimented his sharp features but his eyes were soft in contrast.

your heart fluttered everytime he called you doll, his gal, even your name sounded like foreign music when it rolled off his tounge.

what was happening? Suddenly every-time you guys went on dates, you wished they could be more private, you wished he would hold your hand a bit longer, you wished his eyes would linger on yours and always trace your face, you wished he liked you.

you had a crush on Dallas Winston.

every second longer you stayed with him, you broke the rules of the “contract” more.

what were you supposed to do? suddenly everytime you guys were out, your acting became more snd more believable because you weren’t acting anymore. well, you wish it wasn’t acting for both of you.

you found yourself spaced out more often, lost in daydreams about your fake boyfriend, thinking about how he would react if he knew, how he would embrace you and tell you he felt the sam-

“doll? are ya okay? you’ve been looking at my arm for awhile.”

je snapped you back to reality. arms on the table, elbows planted, playing with a ring of his and twirling it on his finger.

“sorry I was just thinking.” you looked down at your untouched plate of food and starting grabbing some fries to eat.

“you ’re thinking a lot more often, i don’t know if I really like it. can’t get enough attention from you nowadays.”

he looked at you through his lashes with those gorgeous eyes. your stomach flipped and you almost dropped a fry.

“what if I’m thinking about you?” you said blunty, you tried to let out a small laugh to cover up your honest statement.

dallas stopped playing with his ring, it fell flat on the table with a quiet clunk. his eyes pierced through yours, your stomach churning with the realization of what you just said.

your face flushed with heat, ears burning, your eyes flickered to the floor. the diner felt as if it was closing in around you, it was too much to handle. you got up stiffly and grabbed your bag.

dallas was stuck sitting his chair, he was just staring at you. why wasnt he saying anything?

gosh how could i be so stupid and just say that???

you quickly walked towards the exit of the diner, passing by familiar faces. the sounds of your soles were followed by thumps. is he following me?

you quickened your pace and pushed the door open. your house was maybe a 3 minute bike ride away, about 5-10 minutes walking distance. of course you walked here with dallas so there was no way you couldnt make it home fast enough to your liking.

you spotted a black cruiser bike laying on the sidewalk. its been there for a few days, so there wasnt much worry for it having an owner.

you quickly hopped on it and starting biking up the sidewalk.

you heard faint steps catching up to you.

“doll, where are you going? c’mon lets talk about this !” dallas’ yelling slowly got muffled as you got farther away.

you couldnt help but tear up a bit as you finally stopped hearing his voice. i feel so stupid, i didnt think before i spoke. i wasnt supposed to say that.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 weeks since your stupid accident confession to dallas.

you’ve been avoiding him at all costs, if you ever saw him at the same place, you left immediately.

he constantly tries calling your home phone, but you never pick up. too scared to hear what he has to say. until today.

you heard a knock on your front door. your house wasnt anything special, in a bit better shape than the curtis household but not so different in size or layout. your parents pay it off but they’re rarely home, their jobs always keep them occupied.

you were tired, you were having breakdowns throughout the weeks over dallas. you were too scared to talk to him, afraid of the chance of rejection.

you didnt really care for your appearence most of the week since you stayed home. you were wearing a cozy beige sweater and some black shorts.

you groggily made your way to the front door, about to turn the knob when the knocking became insistent.

“im opening up, god, just wait a bit !” you yelled annoyingly. the locks came undone and the door got swung open.

“hey.” dallas stood there infront of you. you stood stunned for a few moments before speaking.

“go back home dallas. im not in the mood to talk.” you went to close the door, when his hand stopped you. pushing it was no help, he held it open with no struggle.

“no shit, ive been trying to call you all week.” he walked past you into the living room. he stood, analyzing your home with tired eyes. he laid down on your couch, stretched out.

“sit with me.” he gestured next to him. you hesitantly walked over but sat on the far end of the couch to his dismay. he frowned alittle before speaking up again.

“c’mon doll talk to me. i havent seen you in weeks, ‘missed you.” he muttered the last part under his breath. you shifted uncomfortably and grabbed a nearby blanket to cover yourself with.

even now he was unbelievably hot. you hated yourself for even noticing. his hair was noticeably messy and his eyes had slight bags under them. his black tank top always hugged him in the right places

you looked away.

“talk about what dal? i dont know why your here. you should just go hom-“

“your avoiding me and i dont know what i did. okay?” he stands up, “the last time i saw you, you just drove off on whoevers damn bike that was. ’ve been calling you for a week straight and no answer.” his hands wave through the air as he talks before he plops back down and rests his head in his hands.

“look ‘m sorry if apparently its so bad that im worried about my girlfriend.” he leans back on the couch, breathless.

“fake girlfriend.” you muttered sharply under your breath. your crossed your arms, staring at the floor.

“is that what this is about?” he looks at you with a sharp turn, “god, baby, i dont care about what you said last week. it didnt bother me at all.”

“thats the thing. it didnt !” you took the blanket off and started pacing infront of him, “you dont care that i basically just said i liked you. it doesnt mean anything to you.” you were getting yourself worked up with each word you said, your eyes starting to get blurry with tears, “this stupid fake relationship and these stupid rules and i broke one of the most important ones, and you dont seem to be affected at all!” you crossed your arms and stared at him, unaware of the tears starting to stain your cheeks.

“doll i never said-“ dallas stands up and tries to approach you, but you pull away.

“dont try and lie, its not gonna make me feel better. just go dal, go.”

he ignores your statement and pulls you into his chest. you try and push him away but he doesnt let you go.

he lets out a low chuckle.

“you think this is funny? what is wrong with you !” he holds you tightly against him.

“no doll i swear ‘m not laughing at you. its just-“ he smiles lightly as he struggles to gather his words.

“i never said it didn’t effect me. god baby, if you just answered the phone. you’d know that i didn’t mind,” he stops hugging you so you can look at him,

“i wasn’t pretending. ‘nd i love you too or whatever. dont make me say it again.”

you stare at him dumbfounded.

“what?” you stop struggling against his grip and just try and process what hes saying.

“are we okay now? can you stop avoiding me?” he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he holds your face in his hands.

“yes..” you say hesitantly. what do i do now? does that mean we’re dating? fuck.

he leans in so he can whisper in your ear,

“does this mean i can kiss you?”

you shakily nod and he pulls you in from your waist, his head tilts to the side and he hesitates before his lips reach yours.

your body was trembling from the slight affection. his lips were warm and soft, so different from his personality.

he put his hand behind your head to pull you into him more, making the kiss deeper. his other hand danced along your spine, until deciding to rest on your face.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him stumble a bit backwards before grabbing hold of the couch.

he pulled away for a breath before sitting down and pulling you forward to straddle him. his eyes traced your face. his gaze pierced your eyes, down to your mouth.

“my pretty girl” he mumbled before taking your lips again.

this time is was more forceful, more passionate. he grabbed at you thighs and had his hands travel all over your body. you helped him take his jacket off and threw it to the side.

he let his tongue into your mouth, making you moan into him.

he sucked on your tongue, he let his toungue slide across your teeth. he was hungry for you, he wanted more.

“take your sweater off f’me baby. let me see those pretty tits.”

he helped your sweater above your arms and over your head. your tits slightly bounced with the motion.

“no bra? fuck, your gonna be the death of me doll.”

he immediately ducked down to suck on your breast. he flicked his tongue around your nipple. you squirmed underneath him, breathy moans escaping your lips. his hands cupped your breasts, he swirled his finger around your other nipple and pinched it.

his lips de attached themselves from your tit with a pop. he licked his lips and gazed at you with a grin before returning to leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest.

“you like watching me lick all over your tits doll? ‘m making you feel good?”

you moaned quietly in response. “use your fucking words baby.” he bit some of your plush skin. “mph ! yes dal i like it.. please don’t stop” your skin flushed with embarrassment as he smirked at your obedience.

“so good f’me baby.” he lifted his head to look at you, admiring the hickeys that covered your now sore breasts.

dal took his shirt off, revealing his slighty sweaty toned body. you couldnt help but stare, you traced his faint ab lines. he watched you intently. you leaned down and licked up his abs.

“fuck doll… didn’t know you were like that. do it again.”

so of course, you did it again, this time dallas fumbled with his belt and reached down his pants. he stroked himself as he watched you lick up his chest.

“can i do it for you?”

dallas grinned and lifted you up so you were standing infront of him. he carefully stood up so he could take his pants and boxers off fully.

“sit back down baby.”

you sat in his place as you watched him slowly get out of his boxers. shit. hes big. hes the right amount inbetween thick and long.

you couldnt help but drool at the sight of him. naked and sweaty, dick right infront of your face, twitching for you.

“yea ‘m fucking big. you sure you can take this baby? not gonna be too much for you?” he smirked and said in a mocking tone.

you didnt say anything, instead you put your hands on his dick and slowly started to jerk him off.

he let out low grunts before you opened your mouth and licked the precum off his tip.

“fuck… baby, suck my cock like a good girl already.”

you obliged. you slowly opened your mouth to let more of him in, sucking and swirling around his twitching cock.

he got inpatient and grabbed a fistful of your hair and started bobbing your head up and down. tears swelled in your eyes at how big and full his cock was.

“yea doll, cry for this dick. make me want to fuck you sore.” dallas loved watching you at his mercy. he heard your gasps for air and felt the spit that piled each time you took him in fully. hearing him degrade you like this made you so wet. you couldnt help but sneak a finger down your shorts to relive yourself.

your other hand crept up his thigh and behind his ballsack. you pressed into a very special spot that you knew well.

“wait, fuck, you can’t just-“

his cock twitched in your mouth, precum oozing down your chin. his grunts became low moans of approval as you kept rubbing at his g-spot. you started to rub your clit at a steady pace.

“keep going baby. ‘m gonna come, dont swallow it.”

after a few more swishes of your tongue, you felt his cock pulsate and release white loads in your mouth. it almost made you gag with how deep he was.

“fuck baby. stick your tongue out.”

you looked up at him and stuck your tongue out. it was full of creamy white cum, and it was all his. the thought of it made you squirm and touch yourself even more. your legs squeezed together as you swallowed.

he suddenly took your hand and dragged you to your bedroom, when he forcefully pushed you against your desk.

“dal-“

“cant even wait for me huh pretty girl? had to start touching yourself at the thought of me.” he tore your shorts off with ease. “so fucking wet just by sucking my dick, your panties are soaked.” he rubbed your clit through the thin fabric.

“please dal i want you inside me. please baby, i just got too excited, i needed to touch myself.” your ass was pressed against his legs and your back was arched as you had your head turned to look at him.

“beg f’me some more. i want to know how bad you want this” he hit his hard cock against your covered pussy. you whined underneath him, moving your hips back and forth to get just the tiniest ounce of friction.

“please dal i’ll do anything, i want your cock so bad. im so wet for you.. i wont touch myself without permission again, just please put it in, please please please..” you continued to whimper under his touch and grind on him.

without warning he held the fabric to the slide and slipped 2 fingers into your needy hole.

“such a needy fucking doll.” he pumped his fingers in and out, coating them in your arousal. “just imagine how good my cock will feel,” he takes his fingers out, “pumping in and out of you.” then pushes them back in.

breathless moans escaped your lips as you felt your insides clench around him. you arched your back and your hands struggled to find something to grab on.

he curled his fingers as he pumped them in out, making you jolt in response.

“dally-“ you were cut off by his thumb reaching to your clit, rubbing small circles.

“oh, dal..” you let your upper half rest ontop of the desk. dallas continued rubbing your clit and pumping his fingers in your pussy, you started to feel a build up in your core.

you moved your hips in contradiction with his fingers, making each thrust even deeper.

“dal ‘m gonna come, keep going please.”

you felt yourself twitch as the knot you felt in your core break and your pussy pulsated around dallas’ fingers.

your body fell up and down panting from the orgasm, dallas took his fingers out and pulled your hair so you were pressed up against him.

you turned your head slightly behind you to view his face, to your surprise, he put his fingers in his mouth. licking your cum off his fingertips.

“you taste so good, y’know that doll?”

you watched as his tongue glided across his digits, fingers glistened with saliva and your own arousal. it made your pussy crave for more.

he pushed you back down on the desk and lifted your ass up in one swift motion.

“ngh ! dal be more-“

the tip of his dick slid into you and he forced his whole cock inside.

“shit. you’re tight..”

you let out an unexpected moan as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you. his thick cock stretching your insides.

“oh yea.. dallas.. i love you”

you moaned nonsense as he fucked you senseless. he found a steady but quick rhythm to stick too.

dallas leaned down fully, his sweaty chest against your back, grinning ear to ear, “you what? couldn’t hear you baby.”, he whispered. he slid out and rubbed your clit with the tip of his precum covered cock.

you whimpered and tried to grind against him, but it wasn’t the same as feeling him fill you up.

he held your arms behind your back, “ah ah doll, tell me what you said. i wanna hear it.” you struggled to find friction against him.

“i said i love you dal. i love you so much, please put it in again. i need your thick cock in me.. please..”

with a delighted chuckle, dallas shoved his cock back into you, your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you harder than before.

with each thrust, you felt your core tighten again, you clenched your pussy feel him more.

dallas felt what you were doing, he reached under you and put a thumb on your clit, rubbing slowly.

the knot in your stomach was becoming hard to suppress, dallas’ unfiltered moans didnt help.

his thrusts started to get sloppy and staggered, his cock twitched inside of you everytime you clenched down.

“dally ‘m gonna come, come with me?”

he smacked your ass in response, making you arch your back even further.

“yes doll, ‘m gonna come now. let me fill that sweet little pussy up.”

with a few more struggled thrusts, you felt him shoot his warm load inside of you. you released your 2nd orgasm, sending euphoria up to your brain. he continued to sloppily thrust before pulling out slowly.

he watched as cum dripped from your pulsing hole, he dragged his fingers up and pushed all of the white substance back in.

“so pretty when your all sweaty and ruined by me. you agree baby?”

all you could do was tiredly nod and make an incomprehensible noise. your head lay on the desk, drool leaving your mouth. you couldnt think at all.

✰ ✰ ✰

you woke up in a tight warm blanket. you barely remembered the night before, but when you tried to move, you realized that there was no blanket.

it was dallas.

“dal?”

dallas grunted in response.

“you stayed?”

he shifted his position until you were able to look up at him.

“f’course i stayed.”

you stayed silent, looking at his shut eyes.

“so..are we…?”

dallas groggily opened his eyes to look at you.

“what do you think doll. you think i stay with just anyone until morning?”

he planted a kiss on your forehead, before drifting back to sleep.

you knew he wasnt good with words, but that kiss was just enough.

✰ ✰ ✰

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

-----

The town is a wreck, but there's still space for them at the hospital.

Nancy recognizes a few of the doctors - ones who know about the Upside Down - and they're all whisked away into two private rooms. One for Eddie, and one for Max.

Steve is stuck with Eddie. He hates thinking of it like that, because he wants to be with Eddie, but he wants to be with Max, too. He wants to prowl back and forth between them, like his presence will make any difference.

But Eddie's heart is still in his chest, and while the doctor had praised his quick thinking in helping his friend, it's too risky to have Eddie's heart far away from his body while he's healing.

So Steve's in the chair next to his bed, hooked up to the heart monitor and listening to the faint but steady sound of Eddie's heart as he feels it beat in his own chest.

Dustin and Robin go back and forth, one of them always with him and the other giving updates when they come to switch out.

It's Dustin in the chair next to his now, and he feels the echo of his own heart next to Dustin's, knows the kid must be feeling what he is - and probably a little bit of Eddie's, too.

Three hearts, all entwined. Robin could make something poetic from that, he thinks.

All he can do is let Dustin pillow his head on his shoulder, press his hand to his own chest and think come back to us.

Eddie's hand twitches.

Steve jolts up, reaching for it automatically.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, even though his eyes are closed and his expression hasn't changed. “Dustin?”

Dustin makes some kind of strangled noise, fumbling for Eddie's other hand. “Can he feel us?”

“I've got his heart, and you've got mine, so yeah, he has to, right?” Steve asks, aware he sounds a little desperate and not really caring.

“Come on, Eddie,” Dustin pleads. “You have to wake up, okay?”

Eddie wakes up.

—

“I should have died in there.”

Steve feels his jaw tense. “No, you shouldn't have.”

“No, I meant - doc says I would have died, if you hadn't taken my heart,” Eddie says.

Oh.

“I know,” Steve admits. “That's why I asked for it.”

Eddie exhales, long and slow. “Where'd you learn that?”

“Eighth grade science,” Steve replies, shooting a little grin at him.

Eddie gives a surprised little laugh. “Seriously?”

“Eh, kind of.” Steve considers for a moment. He's never talked about this with anyone, but - “My parents used to lock their hearts in a safe in my dad's study at night. When I was little, and I got upset at them leaving, they told me they put their hearts in there when they went on trips, too, and I had to stay behind to watch over them.”

Eddie looks at him, soft and tender. Steve'd think it was pity, if it wasn't for Eddie's heart in his chest. It's just sad, and a little angry.

“I told Mr. Clarke about that, and he said it was hogshit.”

Eddie snorts. “Mr. Clarke said hogshit?”

“Who's telling this story?” Steve retorts, then laughs when Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key.

“It was hogshit,” Steve continues. “But then he told us that people could survive potentially fatal injuries with heart exchanges. Then, after Starcourt…”

He trails off, not sure how to say it.

“Robin told me a little,” Eddie admits. “That it was the Russians and the Upside Down, and you let yourself get caught to cover for Dustin and Erica. That you tried to draw attention away from her.”

Oh.

That makes him sound more heroic than the moment felt, but at least it also makes this easier.

“The Russian spies, they had this thing that could open your chest. They didn't believe I was telling the truth, so they took my heart out.”

Eddie reaches out to take his hand, squeezing it tight. There's a faint trickle of horror and guilt and affection, and he knows that Eddie's put it together with the changes in his heart.

“I healed a lot faster because we were doing heart exchanges,” he finishes. “So I figured it'd keep you safe.”

Eddie's grip on his hand tightens. “I really am sorry,” he mutters. “About last summer. After - after that, you needed a friend, and I just left.”

Steve licks his lips, considering his response for a moment, before he goes with honesty. “I had friends. I had Robin and the kids, and they were enough. I didn't really need anything else. But - I wanted you.”

Eddie looks at him, and Steve can feel - hesitation, uncertainty, does he really want me?

“Eddie,” Steve says, slow and thoughtful. “I don't want you because I'm lonely, or I have no one else. Maybe there was a part of that when it first started, but - I'm okay, I'm happy. I want you because of you, not just because I want anyone.”

Shock filters through Eddie so hard that Steve feels it like an almost physical blow.

His heart aches.

He doesn't have to ask if that's something that Eddie hasn't been told before - he knows it already.

“I'm not letting you go,” Steve tells him, only because Eddie's heart is still beating in his chest and he's confident it will be well received. “Not this time.”

“I can live with that,” Eddie says, only a little shaky.

—

Dustin takes a turn swapping hearts with Eddie, and Steve heads immediately for Max's room.

Lucas is there, sitting by her bed and holding her hand.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. “How's she doing?”

“Same,” Lucas says flatly. “But she's in there, I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks.

“We swapped before - before. Just in case. To give her another tether to the real world.”

Shit, that was a great idea. It gives him more hope, and he sags a little in his chair.

“Jesus, you kids are smart,” Steve says, impressed.

Lucas looks at him funny. “We learned that from you, Steve.”

He doesn't really think that's true, considering he learned it from them just as much, but he lets it be, just gripping the back of Lucas's neck and giving him a little squeeze.

Lucas unwinds, just a little bit, and Steve gets a better look at him - notices his swollen eye, his puffy jaw, and feels a cold surge of rage.

He waits for a moment to let the worst of it pass, then asks, “Swap?”

Lucas looks over at him, clearly hesitant.

“The three of us are kind of banged up,” Steve says. “Figure it can't hurt to have more heart power at work here.”

Lucas snorts. “Heart power?”

“Heart power,” Steve confirms, radiating as much confidence as possible.

He's not sure if it works, but Lucas does open his chest up and carefully pull out Max's heart. Steve's extra gentle as he swaps them, tucking her heart into his chest.

It's immediate, what Lucas was talking about. There's only the faintest sense of Max, and an equally faint sense of a fear and guilt and love that he recognizes as Lucas - the residual of what Max is feeling from him, he guesses. Even stranger is an echo he can feel of his own emotions - from him to Lucas to Max and back to him again, apparently.

“Huh,” he says, at the same time Lucas goes, “Woah.”

They sit there, together, and Steve must fall asleep at some point because the next thing he knows, there's the shifting of a chair as Lucas jumps up. Steve startles, only to see El and Will and Mike come flooding in. They sweep Lucas into a hug, and Steve watches them hold on, clinging and desperate.

Eventually, they peel apart, and El goes to Max's side, taking her hand. Her eyes close for a long while, then open again, looking sad.

“I can't reach her,” she whispers. “Not even with my powers back.”

“She's there, though, right? I can still feel her,” Lucas says.

El's brow furrows.

“Max and Lucas swapped before this happened,” Steve explains. “To keep her tethered here, so Vecna couldn't take her.”

Mike frowns. “Vecna?”

“One,” El says, which - okay, yeah, clearly there's a story there, but not the time. She holds her hands out to Lucas. “May I swap?”

Lucas looks over at Steve, and he takes Max's heart out and offers it to her.

“We figured the more helping, the better,” Lucas says.

El exchanges her heart for Max's, looking thoughtful. It's an even bigger rush, with El in the mix, and - even though Max's heart isn't in his chest anymore, he can feel the echo of her even more clearly.

Lucas sucks in a breath. “It's working,” he says. “She's stronger.”

“The more, the better,” El says thoughtfully.

“Eddie woke up from me and him and Dustin sharing,” Steve says, the realization coming over him. “I mean, it wasn't a real circle, but he was just regularly unconscious, not creepy wizard unconscious.”

El looks at Mike, who immediately turns on his heel and leaves. He comes back a few minutes later, with Dustin and Robin and Erica.

“We made Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle stay with Eddie,” Mike announces.

“Uh, yeah, do you want to tell us why?” Dustin asks.

El's eyes flash. “We're going to get Max back.”

Hearts change hands quicker than Steve can keep track of, but in the end, no one has their own heart in their chest. It's an avalanche of emotion that Steve can't make out - so much it’s almost overwhelming - until he feels something like a guiding hand, firm and insistent.

“Max,” El whispers.

Steve turns his thoughts completely on Max, focusing on her - on taking her to the arcade, on the skate park, on her hanging out in his kitchen as they cook dinner. One by one, everyone's emotions start to take focus - on how Max makes them feel, how much they care, how they need her here.

Max's eyes open.

—

They set up another rotation schedule, this time for Max, who looks a little shell shocked and overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Did you think we wouldn't do this for you?” Steve asks quietly when it's his turn, when Lucas and El are sleeping and it's just him and Max awake in her room.

She doesn't answer for a while, but he can feel her conflicted confusion and then unsteady acceptance.

“No,” she says after a while. “I knew you guys would.”

He breathes out, and they sit in silence for a bit.

“Did you read my letter?” she asks, purposefully not looking at him.

“Nah. You said it was just in case, and there wasn't going to be an in case. We weren't going to let Vecna have you.” He manages to keep his voice steady, though he knows she can feel the edge of the fear he'd had for her. “I wanted to hear what was in it from you.”

She makes a face, and he thinks she isn't going to tell him, but then she blurts out, “I said I wished you were my brother, not Billy.”

Oh.

His stomach drops out, and there's a rush of vertigo that leaves him breathless for a moment, but - not in a bad way.

He doesn't know how to respond to that, other than, “I am your brother.”

She scoffs. “It doesn't work like that.”

“Sure it does,” he counters, growing confident. “Billy was your brother just because of a piece of paper your parents signed, right?”

She frowns, finally looking at him again. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what's stopping us?” He taps his chest, over where her heart beats. “We have each other's hearts. We'll always be family.”

Max looks away again, then, very quietly, says, “Okay.”

—

“Heard you call Max your sister when you were talking to the doctor earlier,” Eddie says.

Steve feels a little smile tug at his lips as he takes Eddie's hand. It grows when Eddie laces their fingers together.

“You know Dustin's going to throw a fit when he hears it, and insist that you were his brother first, right?” Eddie teases.

“Of course he is.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Welcome to my family. You sure you still want to stick around?”

He's joking, but Eddie's expression goes soft and contemplative.

“Welcome to your family, huh? You planning a proposal soon, big boy?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve's mouth goes dry. He thinks he should say something - anything - but nothing comes out.

“Swap?” Eddie asks, after a few minutes.

Steve's not sure if someone told him or if he figured it out himself, and part of him wants to ask Eddie if he's sure, but he decides to take Eddie at his word. He opens his chest up, holding out his heart.

Eddie copies him, and - it's his first real look at Eddie's heart. There's silver lines all over it, delicate scars mottling its surface, but it's almost as deep red as Steve's still is.

“Oh,” Steve breathes once Eddie's heart is safely tucked inside his chest again.

There's a love there so strong he almost doesn't know what to do with it - isn't sure if it's Eddie's or his for a moment before he realizes it's both of them feeding off each other.

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

Steve lifts Eddie's hand up, presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I know what I want my future to look like,” Steve admits. “And I want you in it.”

Eddie swallows, and Steve can feel an edge of trepidation before it solidifies into something sharp and determined. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Steve asks.

“I'm sticking around, this time,” Eddie confirms. “For good.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

He knows it's a risk, but - right now, they're alone, and so he leans in to seal the promise their hearts are making with a kiss.

-----

And that's the final part for now! I do have a sequel planned down the road for what happens after they get out of the hospital, folding Eddie into the heart sharing and settling Eddie and Steve and Robin into a trio - I plan on using the tag "hearts out steddie" if anyone would like to follow it for when it comes out!

Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged, liked, or otherwise interacted with this! Everyone's reactions were so amazing, and I really love reading your thoughts!!

Final taglist: @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens @rebellatlas @blackpanzy

[e1e4n0r5]

Their Little Plaything: Bonus Scene 5

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue, Bonus Scene 1, Bonus Scene 2, Bonus Scene 3, Bonus Scene 4

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Former Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 6589

Synopsis: The summer between Junior and Senior years doesn't go exactly as you'd planned

Warnings: ANGST!! Relationship insecurities, feelings of isolation, bullying, implied excessive alcohol use

Notes: This wasn't my fault! Someone suggested this a while ago and I wasn't planning on doing it because it's too heart-breaking but then my brain went 'do it' and I had to obey 😭

Summer between Junior and Senior Years

The air on campus buzzed with early summer heat and long goodbyes. Students were dragging overstuffed suitcases down the sidewalks, calling out promises to meet up over the summer break, hugging, laughing, and posing for last-day selfies.

Cait adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned to Vi with a look that said don’t make a scene.

Vi, of course, was already making one. She had you pulled tightly against her chest, chin tucked over the top of your head, swaying the two of you back and forth with a grip that didn’t seem like it would never let go.

“Eight weeks,” Vi muttered into your hair. “Fuck it, you’re not going, you’re coming with us.”

“Vi-”

“Cait can refund your mom whatever she’s booked, you can’t go,” she begged.

“Vi-”

“How the fuck are we supposed to manage without you for two months!”

Cait spoke louder than you, calling firmly, “Violet.”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “Okay. Okay, I’ve got it. I’ve got it. It’s only eight weeks. That’s nothing. That’s just, like…Forty gym sessions. Without you. Fuck, I’m gonna be so buff by the time you see me.”

Vi finally let go, though her hand lingered around your waist, reluctant to fully let go.

You chuckled softly, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

Cait stood close, watching the hug, arms folded lightly. She looked so poised, even now, dressed neatly for her family’s car service that was waiting by the curb. She was trying to keep it together. You were already upset, Vi’s neediness and clinginess was starting to come out…Someone had to be strong. But her eyes softened when you turned to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you to the train station?”

“Cait, it’s almost an hour away, in the other direction. You’ve already got to drive three hours; don’t make it five. I’ll be fine, the campus bus’ll be here any minute.”

She nodded unhappily. She knew you were going home to be with your mother over summer – your mum had booked some non-refundable vacation spots months ago, as surprises for you, not knowing you were now in a relationship – but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss you.

Still, you’d come spend the last two weeks at the Kiramman summer estate with them (even though Cait’s parents didn’t yet know you were a throuple) but it was still going to be a long summer without each other.

“Have you got your ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Purse?”

“Yes.”

“Phone charger? Headphones, book for the journey?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

Cait nodded. “Text us when you get to the station.”

You smiled, trying to force down the tears. “Okay.”

“And when you arrive,” Cait said, stepping forward to cup your face in both hands. “And I expect full updates from you. Books read, meals eaten – with pictures! – outfits worn, exercises done. Photo collages of all the places you go with your mother.”

“Got it,” you whispered. “Everything. You’ll be sick of me.”

Vi’s hand twitched on your waist, resisting the urge to pull you back in. “You’ll be okay, right? You’ve got your mom, and…We’ll have video sex every night-”

You giggled, tears in your eyes. “Not when I’m sharing a room with mum on vacation.”

“Okay, secret titty pics in the shower will suffice for those days,” Vi joked.

“And we made the shared playlist, so we can think of each other when we’re apart…” Cait’s eyes started getting damp.

“Yeah,” you interrupted gently. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. Eight weeks. Two months.”

It felt like you were all saying it to reassure yourselves.

As they said their final goodbyes, Cait pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, and Vi bumped her forehead against yours, whispering, “Don’t forget us, baby.”

The campus shuttle bus arrived only a minute after their car pulled away. You queued with your suitcase, trying not to cry as you got on board, settling into a window seat, watching the campus slowly empty of students as they all went home for those glorious weeks between years.

It wasn’t until you put in your headphones and they didn’t automatically connect that you realised the worst had happened.

You hadn’t noticed at the time, but as you’d been scrambling to finish packing that morning, you’d accidentally knocked your phone off the bedside table, and under the bed. In the chaos to get out of the house on time, you hadn’t checked if it was in your bag.

Your lifeline – your only connection to the women you loved – was out of reach. And would be for eight weeks.

The train ride was torturous. Not only did you not have your music or any way to communicate with your girlfriends or your mother, but because you knew Cait and Vi would be worried sick. You hadn’t texted them when you’d arrived at the train station, you hadn’t texted once during the two-hour train ride, and you hadn’t let them know you’d arrived in your hometown. You knew they’d be going insane with worry!

But you tried to put it out of your mind; there was nothing you could do about your phone, and when you got back to your childhood home, you’d just think of another way to contact them. At least you still had your laptop.

You walked through the Arrivals area of the train station, looking out for your mum. You smiled wide when you saw her.

“There you are!” she called happily, running over and pulling you into her arms.

You hugged her back tightly, not wanting to let go. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed this; your mum’s shampoo, her perfume, the warmth of her voice, the way she held on like you might slip away.

“Hi, mum,” you choked against her shoulder, trying to hold back tears.

“Oh, I missed you so much, sweetheart!”

Sweetheart.

Your heart panged. Vi. She’d be so worried about you.

“I was texting you, you didn’t reply.”

You shook your head. “I forgot my phone in…My dorm,” you covered quickly.

“Oh, no. We’ll sort something out when we get home. We could always get you one of those ‘burnt’ phones?”

“A burner phone?” you teased.

“Oh, stop it. Come on, let’s get you home. And you can tell me all about what you’ve been up to!”

The house looked the same as ever: white paint peeling just a little more, flower boxes full of red geraniums struggling in the summer heat, wind chimes clinking softly in the breeze.

Inside, everything smelled like lemon polish and fresh laundry. You sank into the familiar cushions of the old sofa, curling your legs under you as your mum bustled about, making tea.

“You look tired,” your mum said, handing you a steaming mug and sitting beside you. “School been that rough?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. The semester ended okay. Just…A lot happened this year.”

“Girlfriend trouble?” Your mum raised an eyebrow and gave you that look – curious, patient, not pushing.

You traced the rim of your mug with your thumb. “Well…”

She grinned. “I knew it! I knew my baby had a girlfriend! Who is she, what’s her name?”

“Well…Um…”

“Oh…Oh, is it a boy?” she asked in surprise, like it were a secret.

That snapped you out of your hesitation. “No, no, definitely not a boy.”

“So, we’re still lesbian?”

You laughed. “Yes, mum, we are still a lesbian.”

“Well, spit it out then! Who is she?”

“Cait-”

“Cait! Awww, that’s such a nice name! Is she-?”

“-And Vi.”

Your mum paused, blinking. “Caitandvi? That’s her name? Where’s she from?”

“No, mum. Caitlyn and Violet. I have two girlfriends.”

She gasped your full name. “Are you cheating on those girls? Do they know about this?”

“No, mum, stop! I have two girlfriends. We’re all together. We’re in a three-person relationship. I have two girlfriends; Cait has two girlfriends; Vi has two girlfriends.”

You could almost see your mum’s brain rebooting. “Oh. Oh, I see! Is that the open relationship stuff?”

You shook your head. “No, not open. The three of us are together, no-one else. Closed unit.”

She finally nodded. “Okay, okay, got it. How long have you been together?”

You sipped your tea. “Since just before Christmas.”

She gasped. “And why haven’t you told me this before?”

You looked at her. “Mum, can you imagine trying to have the conversation we just had…Over the phone? When half the time you still face the camera the wrong way.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Alright, missy, settle down.” She was quiet for a beat. “Are they nice to you?”

You smiled a little, surprised by the question – and the emotion it stirred. “Yes. They make me feel safe. Loved. Seen.”

Your mum nodded slowly. “Then I’m happy for you, and I can’t wait to meet them. It’s not about the shape of the relationship. It’s about how it makes you feel.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, feeling so relieved at your mum’s acceptance and blessing. “They’re really different. Cait’s like…Precision and care. She was Class President this year, and she’s won again for next year too! And Vi’s all fire; she’s on the school football team. They balance each other, and somehow…I fit in there too.”

“They sound like good girls,” your mum said, sipping her tea.

Your eyes stung a little. “I miss them already. I can’t believe I dropped my phone at home and didn’t even notice! I haven’t been able to get in touch with them. They’re going to be so worried about me, or think I’m ignoring them!”

Your mum reached over, rubbing your shoulder gently. “They’ll be waiting for you. The ones who love you always are.”

The first few days at home weren’t terrible. Maddening. But not terrible. You’d spent the first evening trying to figure out how the hell you could contact either, or both, of them.

Your mum had offered to buy you a burner phone – but you didn’t know their numbers.

You’d considered email – but you didn’t have their email addresses.

You could see their social media accounts, but you couldn’t comment or message without an account.

You’d tried to get into your private account (that you only ever used to doomscroll and look at what Cait and Vi posted), but the platform wanted to send a verification code to your phone number – which you didn’t fucking have access to! You’d emailed the help desk, offering to answer any and all security questions – do anything they needed! – but they said there was nothing they could do without your phone.

You could write them a goddamn letter – except you didn’t know either of their families’ addresses, and the Kiramman summer estate was unlisted.

And this rate, you’d have to resort to smoke signals or carrier pigeons…You could just imagine trying to wrangle a bird, sticking a letter to its leg and telling it to go find Cait or Vi. That would only go well…

You unpacked slowly, folding your clothes into the drawers of your childhood bedroom, surrounded by posters you hadn’t bothered to take down when you left for college. Your mum made all your favourite meals, fussed over your hair, asked too many questions about your relationship. It was familiar. Safe.

But not the same.

You kept reaching for your phone, again and again, only to realize it wasn’t in your pocket. Wasn’t on the dresser. Wasn’t in your bag. It was nowhere.

Day by day, the silence stretched out longer. No Cait teasing you in the morning with perfectly timed sensual voice notes. No Vi sending blurry selfies from the grocery store with captions like do we need ten frozen pizzas?

Just…Nothing.

Your mum had surprised you with a disposable camera on day three.

“I know it’s not a fancy phone but you can still take pictures to show the girls! You’ll have to get them developed and printed, but that’s what we did back then,” she explained as she unpacked some groceries.

You examined the camera with a smile, eyeing the extra rolls of film she brought. “Thanks, mum. This is kinda cool. Retro.”

“Please do not describe anything from my youth as retro,” she scolded.

So you started taking photos. You hoped they were okay, you couldn’t see what you’d taken. Maybe everything would end up blurry, or your finger would be over the lens. You captured your outfits of the day – OOTD, as you’d learnt from Cait’s social media. Most of your meals, so Cait would know you’d eaten, even if she wasn’t getting live updates. The beach day you and your mum went on (obligatory secret titty pic for Vi, which then gave you a panic attack thinking of an employee at a photo shop who may end up seeing your boobs). An award-winning photo of your feet propped up on the porch swing, a book in your lap, the sunset in the distance, a gentle blur to the photo to give it that soft and romantic vibe.

The knowledge that the girls would see the photos in the future kept you going, even when you were cut off from them. It was a little thing to hold on to.

But by day ten the doubts began to creep in.

You’d been looking at their social media accounts over the days. Smiles, sun, cocktails by the pool, evening meals in restaurants Cait’s family paid for. Not one mention of you, or missing someone special. Nothing. Just them enjoying themselves.

Two carefree love-struck college girls, living their best summer life.

Maybe it was easier if they didn’t love you back.

Maybe it was better not to hope.

Maybe they’d gone back to Caitlyn’s estate, to her rich family and fancy silverware and acres of land, and realized how easy it would be to forget about you.

You began to wonder if you’d made it all up. If the love was temporary. Conditional. Something that had ended with the school year, like a class schedule or a lease agreement.

Without Cait or Vi checking in, holding you, reminding you that you were safe and wanted and real… You’d never felt so alone.

You walked past your old high school on your way to the grocery store, and it made your stomach twist. Your mind filled with all the horrible memories of your years there – the mocking, the tormenting, the horrific isolation.

The fluorescent lights in the grocery store buzzed quietly overhead. You hadn’t meant to linger, just grab milk for the two of you and leave. But your thoughts kept wandering – without a phone to distract you – to the feel Cait’s fingers tracing your hip, Vi’s laugh muffled into your neck, the smell of both of them next to you in bed.

“Oh my god, look who it is,” a voice drawled behind you.

You turned slowly, praying it wasn’t—

Heather Scott. The girl who played the prank on you in high school, outing you to the whole school, your humiliation published on social media for the world to see. Same perfect teeth, same overly tanned skin. She looked you up and down with a smirk that made you feel fifteen again.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back here,” Heather said, arms crossed. “You always acted like you were too good for this town. What happened, college not work out?”

You frowned. “It’s summer break, Heather.”

Her eyes scanned you. “You look the same. Bit skinnier. Still quiet, huh? Still lesbo?”

You wanted to disappear, but somehow you couldn’t move.

“Oh, come on. Not learnt how to take a joke yet? Bet you’re still the weird girl no-one wants to sit with.”

Your cheeks burned. “Actually, I’m not.”

She raised her eyebrows. “No? You finally got some friends at that fancy college?”

“I do, yeah. I’ve got a best friend-” Shit, you haven’t been able to talk to Powder, either!

She laughed. “Wow, that’s super impressive…”

“And two girlfriends.”

Heather blinked. “Two girlfriends? Now I know you’re making shit up.”

“Look them up: Caitlyn Kiramman and Violet Lanes,” you challenged, even though you hated every desperate word pouring out of your mouth. Why were you doing this? Why were you so desperate for this bitch’s approval? You’d stopped liking her the second she aided in your public humiliation, and that was years ago!

She just laughed to herself as she tapped away on her phone. After a few seconds, she paused, eyebrow lifting. “Blue hair, kinda tall?”

“Yeah! That’s Cait-”

“You’re seriously trying to tell me that these two,” she turned the phone around and showed you the latest photo on Cait’s profile – the two of them sitting in the shallow end of a pool, each with a drink in hand, kissing passionately, “Drop-dead gorgeous women are into you?”

Your heart twisted. “Yes-”

“No fucking way, Y/N. They are way too hot for you. They’re both off-the-scale hot, and you’re seriously like a three on a good day. And besides,” she scrolled back on Cait’s feed, shaking her head, “There’s no mention of you. No other girlfriend, they don’t say they miss anyone, they’re not looking forward to seeing anyone…”

Your heart twisted again. “I’ve asked them to keep me off social media-”

“Why, if you’re really together? Oh, because of that stupid prank years ago? You really think people from school will still pick on you for that? No-one gives a fuck about you anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a fucking loser, Y/N. I bet you’ve made up this whole thing in your head, and these girls don’t even know you. Hey, let me check.” She tapped away on her phone, chewing her gum for a few seconds, and then laughed. “Ha! See!”

She turned the phone back around, showing you a private message screen between her and Cait.

Heather Scott: Y/N says hi

Caitlyn Kiramman: ??

Your lip trembled, your heart pounded.

No.

No, they wouldn’t.

Two question marks doesn’t explain anything! That could mean anything!

Then another message popped up:

Caitlyn Kiramman: Stay the fuck out of our business

* * * Ten days earlier * * *

“Do you think she’ll miss us?”

Vi lay on Cait’s chest in the back of her family’s car, a waterproof blanket beneath them and fluffy one tucked over their naked bodies. It was a three-hour drive to the Kiramman summer estate from college; they had perfected a routine, one they couldn’t wait to show you.

Vi held Cait tightly, as Cait stroked her fingers through her dark hair, lightly scratching her scalp.

“Of course she will.”

“Has she messaged?” she lifted her head a little of Cait’s chest, only to have her hand bring it back down.

She checked her phone screen, unable to hide her disappointment. “Nothing yet.”

“But it’s been two hours,” Vi protested.

“I know,” Cait soothed, “But she might have been in a rush at the station, or maybe her phone died on the train. She’ll let us know as soon as she can. Now, do you want another quick round, or a 30-minute nap before we have to make ourselves presentable?”

Vi growled playfully. “What do you think?”

The Kiramman summer estate was beautiful, quiet, and utterly suffocating. The white brick mansion sat surrounded by orange groves, miles from the nearest neighbouring mansion. Complete with a large pool and bar, terrace, home gym, games rooms, home cinema, and much more, it was the perfect place to escape city life for those precious few weeks of glorious summer weather.

Cait stood at the balcony of her bedroom, arms crossed, watching the distant lights of the city on the horizon. Her family’s staff had unpacked their things as they got settled with tea with her parents. The sheets were pressed, the pillows fluffed, and dinner had been served with ceremonial polish.

But it was missing something. Someone.

Vi tossed and turned behind her, huffing softly. “She hasn’t texted.”

“I know.”

“I know she can be forgetful, but she wouldn’t just disappear.” Vi sat up, bare arms tense, tattoos flexing with every anxious movement. “What if something happened to her?”

Cait turned. “Maybe her phone died, or maybe she’s just catching up with her mother. She’s been saying for weeks how much she’s missed her. She’ll reach out when she can.”

Vi ran her hands through her hair, agitated. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either,” Cait admitted gently. She crossed the room, sitting beside Vi. “But she knows how much we love her.”

Vi leaned forward, elbows on knees. “How can she not have texted back yet? She cried when we were 10 minutes late home last week!”

Cait smiled faintly, brushing Vi’s arm with her fingers. “Okay, to be fair to her: her period was really messing her up that day and she later admitted that she overreacted.” They both smiled softly. “She’ll come back to us, Violet. She always does.”

Cait’s mother, Cassandra, insisted they have tea on the terrace, dressed in light summer linens, surrounded by the expansive gardens filled with bright flowers and gleaming marble paths.

Vi barely touched her tea, her legs jostling under the table constantly.

When they returned to Cait’s room, Vi threw herself down onto the chaise, groaning.

“I’m losing my mind,” she said into a pillow.

Cait sat on the edge of the bed, undoing the clasp of her sandals. “It’s only been three days.”

“Exactly. And I already feel like I’m going to chew through the walls. Why hasn’t she messaged us back! Or even just read the messages!”

Cait looked over at her, walking over slowly. “Is this about missing her, or needing something else?”

Vi met her eyes. “Both.”

Cait’s expression softened.

Vi looked up at her, and for once her bravado cracked – she looked small. “She grounds me. I’m angry all the time and she just…Dissolves it.”

Cait kissed her forehead, then pushed her onto her back on the chaise with a hand on her throat. “Then let me help until she’s back.”

Vi pulled her hips close with a desperate sigh. “You better. I’m losing it here.”

They always shared Cait’s bed at the summer home – the Kiramman parents weren’t naïve enough to imagine that the girls would sleep separately. It was soft and plush, a wonderful bed by all accounts. But neither Cait nor Vi had slept well since they arrived.

“Cait,” Vi whispered desperately on the fourth night, “Touch me.”

Cait turned, stroking her hand down Vi’s side. “You’re trembling.”

“I just…I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I know.”

Vi pressed into her, mouth at Cait’s collarbone. “You have to take it. All of it. Please. I can’t be gentle.”

Cait allowed Vi to roll her over in a practiced, effortless shift of movement. “Then don’t be. Let it out. You know I can take it.”

Vi’s fingers clawed at her, and Cait kissed her like a balm. Steady, grounding, there. There was no teasing. No slow build. Just desperate hunger, and the two of them trying to chase something that didn’t feel whole without their third.

Afterwards, Vi broke down a little, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. Cait pulled her close, combing through her hair as they lay in the dark.

“We’re gonna be okay,” she whispered.

“Not until she’s home.”

Cait stared at her phone, brows drawn.

“She still hasn’t read any messages,” she said, sitting on the lounger by the pool, clad in her favourite bikini.

Vi paced the patio like a trapped tiger. “She always answers. Even if it’s just a heart. Even if she’s in class.” She groaned, squeezing the back of her neck. “I knew something felt off. Something’s happened.”

Cait raised a hand. “Let’s not panic. It could be something small. Broken phone, tech issue...” But even as she spoke, she didn’t believe it.

Vi paused, hands clenching and unclenching. “What if it’s not?”

Cait shook her head powerlessly. “Well, she hasn’t blocked either of us, and she hasn’t left our group chat. So, we’re not dumped yet. Plus, imagine how she must be feeling – at least we’re together; she doesn’t have either of us, she’s on her own.”

They both sat in silence for a moment.

“I just…” Vi started, then stopped. Her voice cracked slightly. “I just miss her so bad, Cait. And I feel guilty. Like I shouldn’t, because I’m with you and I love you – I love you so fucking much – but it’s like...Half of me’s gone.”

Cait took her hand and pulled her down to sit next to her on the lounger. She wrapped her arm around Vi’s waist, leaning into her chest.

“You’re allowed to miss her,” Cait whispered. “I miss her too. Every time I wake up and she’s not wedged between us like our little space heater, I miss her all over again. Every time I send her a text and see it sitting there, unread. You’re not alone in that.”

Vi buried her face in Cait’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d fall this hard. For both of you. But I did. And now it feels like she’s just…Gone.”

Cait pulled back just enough to cup her face. “She’s not gone. She loves us. We’ll figure out what’s going on soon, and then we’ll laugh about how panicked and stressed we were.”

Vi nodded slowly, clinging to the hope in Cait’s voice.

Vi barely made it halfway through breakfast.

The Kirammans had insisted they join the morning meal on the terrace again – polished silverware, crystal glasses, and political small talk.

Vi pushed her food around her plate – having drunk too much the night before – and gave clipped, muttered responses. Her hand twitched toward her pocket every few minutes, checking her phone again and again for a message she knew wouldn’t be there.

When her fork clattered too loudly against the porcelain, Cait’s mother looked at her in concern. Vi muttered an apology and stood.

“I’ll go check on her,” Cait said smoothly, folding her napkin and excusing herself to follow before Cassandra could ask what on Runeterra was going on with the two of them.

She found Vi standing beneath the covered walkway, staring out at the fountain like she wanted to punch it.

“She’s still not answered,” Vi said when Cait came up beside her.

“She still hasn’t blocked us, though. That’s something.”

Vi huffed, tugging at her hair. “You don’t get it.”

“I miss her too, Vi,” Cait replied defensively.

“No, Cait, I need her. I wake up thinking about her, I can’t sleep without her breathing next to me. You’re my rock, you always have been, but Y/N…She’s like breathing now.”

Cait didn’t speak. She only reached out, gently curling her hand around Vi’s, pulling her forehead to rest against hers

“I don’t know how to calm down without her. I need her here. I need her safe. I can’t do another seven weeks of this, Cupcake,” she wept.

“We’ll help each other,” Cait said. “And when we get back, we’ll remind her how much she matters to us. Every day.”

They didn’t speak much that morning. Vi was up first, pacing the length of their bedroom like a caged animal. She needed to fucking destroy something. Cait stayed in bed longer than she normally would, her arm curled around your pillow, which Vi had insisted they bring, despite Cait’s protests that it was ‘a little much.’ Both women were grateful for it now.

She buried her face in it, inhaling your scent, and when Vi looked back over to check on her, Cait didn’t lift her head.

“Hey.” Vi knelt beside the bed. “You alright?”

“I thought I’d be stronger than this,” Cait admitted. “I thought if anyone would hold us together, it’d be me.”

Vi’s heart ached seeing her like this, neat hair loose, voice small.

“We both suck at this,” Vi said, crawling into bed beside her and pulling Cait against her chest.

“I want to be with her. I want to wake up with her. I want her curled up on the couch reading while you and I bicker about what to make for dinner.”

Vi smiled softly. “I miss those dumb slippers. The ones with the ears. I always said they weren’t cute. But now I realise how fucking adorable they are.”

“I miss her humming while she brushes her teeth.”

Vi leaned her forehead against Cait’s. “We’re so gay.”

Cait laughed for the first time in days.

By the eight day, something had changed.

Cait had retreated into a cold silence. She read books, scrolled on her phone, posted pool pics like nothing was wrong. But Vi saw through it – the coolness that was a mask for something fraying underneath.

That afternoon in their room, Cait pulled out her laptop and scrolled through photos, silent.

“She’s in every one,” she said softly.

Vi came to lie beside her on her front, looking at the black-and-white photo on the screen.

You were in a towel, hair wet and smiling shyly as Cait took the picture.

“We made her feel safe,” Cait said. “And now she’s gone home, without us. To that place that was never safe for her.”

Vi swallowed. “We’re gonna bring her back. We have to. She’s probably scared. Or lonely. Or convinced we’ve forgotten her.” She gritted her teeth. “Why can’t we just say we miss her in a post?”

Cait shook her head softly. “She asked us to keep her off social media. We made a promise, Vi. We can’t break her trust just because we miss her.”

Vi teared up a little. “But if she’s watching our feeds, she’d see it.” Her throat started burning and she had to swallow thickly. “She’s hurting somewhere, I know it. And we can’t do anything about it.”

“We will,” Cait said. “As soon as we get home.”

“In seven weeks,” Vi almost sobbed into the comforter.

Taking a break from the pool, Cait and Vi were in the pool’s private kitchen getting some cold drinks. Cait sat on a stool at the bar, Vi rifling through the glass bottles on top.

Cait looked up. “Vi…,” she said softly, a small shake of her head.

The dark-haired girl sighed, hanging her head. With annoyed acceptance, she pulled out a pitcher of fruity mocktails from the fridge, pouring two glasses.

“Day ten,” she said, voice flat.

Cait replied quietly, “I know,” staring at her dark phone screen. Waiting for message. Anything.

Vi braced her arms on the counter. “What if she thinks we’ve moved on? What if…What if her mom said something? Or some dipshit from town?”

“We don’t know that. But we know her. We know how much she loves us.” It had become a mantra for them both during their stay.

“Then why hasn’t she tried to message? Not even a fucking email?”

“Violet, she doesn’t know our emails,” Cait reminded delicately. “She doesn’t have our numbers memorised. Who does, these days?”

Vi looked up, red-rimmed eyes meeting Cait’s. “I feel like I’m falling apart. And I’m with you. That should be enough, right? But it’s not. And I hate that.”

“Vi. You don’t have to choose between me and her. Missing her doesn’t mean you love me less.”

Out of nowhere, Cait’s phone pinged. She grabbed for it frantically, almost dropping it in the process.

1 message from [Unknown Contact]

It was you! It had to be! You found a way to make an account!

Cait’s face lit up��And then dropped.

“Who the fuck is Heather Scott?” Vi demanded, reading over Cait’s shoulder.

“And why is she with Y/N?”

Cait typed back ‘??’, dreading the response she would get. “I don’t think Y/N has ever mentioned-”

Vi’s head shot up. “She’s that bitch!” she shouted, accidentally too close to Cait’s ear.

“Ow, Vi!”

“She’s that bitch that pretended to like Y/N in high school and then posted her online! Heather Scott!” she slammed her hand down on the marble top in rage.

Cait glared back at her phone, fury rising within her.

‘Stay the fuck out of our business’

She had to stop herself throwing her phone down, putting her head in her hands, rubbing her scalp to try and calm down.

“I want to go home,” Vi said firmly. “Now. We’ll go home, and we’ll find a way to get to Y/N from there. I don’t give a fuck if we have to drive to her town and scream her name out the car window. She’s not safe there.”

Cait nodded. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

The front door creaked as Cait eased it open. The house was still. Dim with the blinds half-drawn, stale with the scent of summer heat. Vi followed behind her, suitcase thunking softly against the floor as she put it down, exhausted from the journey. Three-hours was a long way to sit in tense silence.

Faintly, from upstairs, they heard sniffles.

“Y/N?” Cait called gently, looking towards the staircase, her heart in her chest.

Silence.

Then more sniffles, a weak cough.

Vi ran ahead, heart pounding. What if you were hurt? How long had you been there? What if you’d broken your legs, or your back?! What if you needed a fucking ambulance because you were dying?! Cait heard her footsteps along the hallway upstairs, and then—

“Cait,” Vi’s voice cracked, “She’s here.”

Cait dropped her own bag and rushed toward the bedroom. God, what would she find? The door was open, Vi in the doorway.

You knelt on the floor by the bed, a chaotic assortment of your things on the floor around you, a suitcase open in front of you as you shoved things in, uncaring for the state of your clothes. Your phone lay on the comforter, charging by the cable, the battery image flashing red.

“Y/N?” Cait called gently, not wanting to overwhelm you, even as she longed to pull you into her arms. Her soft tone just earned more sniffles and a miserable hiccup. “Sweetheart, did your phone die? Is that why you didn’t reply to us?”

You groaned loudly, coughing as you cried.

Why was she being nice to you!

Your eyes were red, as though you’d not stopped crying for hours. You were crying – sobbing your fucking heart out – as you kept stuffing your items into the suitcase, purposefully not looking at the two girls.

Vi didn’t hesitate.

She ran over and dropped to her knees in front of you. “Baby. No. No, no, no. What are you doing? Talk to us, baby.”

You looked up slowly. Your voice was hoarse. “I lost my phone on the first day, and I didn’t hear from you, and I couldn’t contact you,” sob, cough, “and I thought…You were just faking before. And I made it all up in my head. I couldn’t-,” cough, “I didn’t have any photos to prove to myself it was real.”

Vi let out a sound that was more of a howl than anything else and pulling you into her lap, arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was afraid you might disappear. You were too upset, too weak, to even wrap your arms around her in return.

“You didn’t make it up,” Cait said gently, stepping into the room. She looked shaken too, but her voice was steady. She came over to kneel next you, her hand gently but firmly stroking your back. “We’ve been messaging you every day. We thought you wanted space, or you were having so much fun with your mother. Vi was tearing her hair out.”

“I was going to leave,” you confessed. “I didn’t want to come back here, and you both pretend it never happened.”

Vi pulled back, cupping your cheek. “Don’t say that. We’ve been counting down the days to see you again. We missed you. We fucking missed you, sweetheart.”

“I thought I wasn’t enough,” you said. “Not enough to miss. Not enough to matter.”

Cait leant forward, kissing your shoulder. “You are the most important part of us. We love you so much, sweetheart. You belong here. With us.”

Your jaw trembled. “But Heather Scott-”

Vi growled. “Fuck that bitch and anything she said to you.”

“I don’t want to be apart again,” you whispered.

“Then don’t be,” Cait said. “Move in with us, officially.”

Vi nodded fiercely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already here all the time anyway. You can choose new bedsheets, we’ll redecorate whatever you want!”

Your lower lip trembled and then you sobbed even harder.

“I missed you both so much,” you breathed.

“We’re home now,” Cait said. “And so are you.”

They didn’t unpack. They didn’t talk about what they’d missed or try to explain the ache in their chests in any eloquent way. They just held you close.

You lay together in bed, your head nestled on Cait’s chest. Vi had curled around your back, arm slung tight over your waist. Cait had her phone in a holder over your heads, talking you through all the photos and videos they’d taken in the first few days when they could, somewhat, function. Their voices soothed you, but you weren’t truly listening. You just needed them there. And they knew that; they’d tell you everything again when you all felt better. The familiar scent of the house, the softness of clean sheets, and the presence of the women you loved wrapped around you like a blanket.

“I didn’t realize how quiet it would be without you,” Cait murmured into your hair.

Vi gave a soft grunt. “I was tearing through the garden like a maniac.”

“I slept in my mum’s room a few times,” you whispered. “I felt twelve again.”

Neither Cait nor Vi said anything for a long time. They just held you tighter.

Your voice was muffled when you continued. “I ran into Heather. The girl who played that prank on me. She asked if I was still weird and lonely, and I immediately started trying to prove myself to her. Like, ‘I’m cool now, I have two girlfriends!’”

Vi lifted her head slightly, about to speak – probably something brash and full of fire – but Cait gently touched her arm.

“We’re proud of you,” Cait said quietly. “That you stood up for yourself.”

You shook your head sadly. “Wasn’t much ‘standing up’. I cracked the second she was mean to me, about us.”

Vi sighed and kissed the back of your shoulder instead. “We’re going to remind you every day that you’re not that girl anymore. And even if you were, you’d still be ours.”

You sniffled. “I thought maybe I’d made it all up. You two, this house, everything. It felt too good to be true.”

Vi kissed the edge of your jaw. “No way. You’re the best part of it.”

Cait adjusted slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. “You ground us, darling. We fell apart when you were gone.”

You lay like that for a long while, tangled in warm limbs and whispered promises, the kind too soft and slow for the daytime.

Eventually, Cait reached for a remote and turned on the soft glow of the fairy lights they’d strung up before summer – your idea to give your photos and videos some mood lighting. The room filled with a delicate pink warmth.

“Let’s stay like this,” she said. “No expectations. Just us.”

Outside, the evening deepened. Inside, they breathed as one.

Safe. Together. Home.

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup

[serenity-loves-red]

IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. (Current) Part 7.

Cat distribution system featuring Phainon.

In which• The Deliverer of Amphoreus is suddenly transported to your home as a cat.

You returned home late that day. There was an unexpected group work that needs to be submitted by tomorrow morning. So instead of going home by 3pm, you’ve returned home around 8.

Fortunately, you’ve left Blue and Princess enough food and water that’ll last them the whole day.

When you opened the door, you got yourself quite a scare when you almost stepped on an orange fur rag you remembered not having. What you do remember having instead however, is an orange pomeranian.

“Oh my god! Princess!” You exclaimed. “Did I hurt you? Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” You hurriedly picked him up, inspecting him closely.

When you saw no signs of injury, you quickly gave him few head pats and cooed at him, totally forgetting about your bag you randomly thrown near the door due to sheer panic.

Princess and Blue are much important than that bag to be honest. You’ll just picked it up later or something. First things first is to check on your 2 babies.

Holding Princess securely on your arms, you proceed to walk inside to find your other fluffy roomie.

“Blue?” You called out. “I’m home Blue! Where are you?”

When you felt Princess started to squirm in your arms, you gently lowered him down. He let out few high pitched bark and stuttered few steps forward, as if urging you to follow him.

“You know where he is, Princess?” You asked, curiously. Princess barked in reply.

“You can understand me too, hm?” You laughed. “Well aren’t you smart? Then please do lead the way Your Highness.”

You followed Princess and found Blue pacing back and forth like some kind of stressed mother near your couch.

Upon seeing you trailing behind Princess, he gracefully strutted and rubbed your legs. You heard his sharp meows and hiss but never did he tried to bite your foot.

He must’ve been worried this entire time, you thought correct. If only you can understand his meows, it was full blown combination of both concern and nagging.

Mydei, however could understand. It was chaotic and amusing for him to hear the Mr. Blue Balls the Deliverer get worked up like this.

“Snuggle Gremlin! It’s late, do you know what time is it? *nag nag nag*”

Hmm. That name isn’t that bad. You know what, Mydei shall call you that from now on. He must get back at you for his name somehow.

“Yes, yes.” You soothes Blue who sounded really worked up. “Let’s save that for later ok? I’ll make it up with you after I eat dinner. Promise.”

You picked up Blue who started to melt with your pats. His ears must’ve been really that sensitive, you mused.

Although this situation was supposedly impossible and alarming, Mydei couldn’t lie that somehow this doesn’t feel bad. Oddly enough, just like the deliverer, he felt oddly calm and genuinely happy even thought he just had been here a little to no more than a day.

You saw Princess sat next to your feet. If you remembered correctly, you haven’t given him a bath yet, no? Since he’s going to stay here with you, a proper bath is a must before he is allowed to sleep at the bed with you.

“As for you my little Princess,” you said. “We’ll take a bath together later.”

…What? Did you just-

Mydei quickly snapped his tiny little head towards Phainon, hoping that he must’ve just misheard it somehow. Must have been the wind™️

“Good luck Mydei.” He saw his mouth moved. “May Nikador bless you in this battle.”

“…”

You know what– he takes back everything he just said!

You can’t just do this to him! He may have turned into a dog but he wants to keep his chastity and innocence so don’t you dare put your hands on him!!

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