#can’t decide if i hate it or not. click for quality though cause it got SO crunched

[bizlybebo]

me and you aren’t done yet

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land Part 5

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

You can find Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, and Part 4 here!

42k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: No super specific wedding details are given; some anxiety; very fluffy; Robby and Jake make up; Jack is a consent king; use of eyedrops; unprotected PIV sex (bc implied with relationship); oral sex (both m and f receiving); fingering; SoftDom!Jack; manhandling; light condescension; bondage; use of your underwear as a gag; knife appears in the bedroom but is not used on anyone; doggy; alcohol; reader: loves champagne, sits on Jack’s lap, takes Jack’s last name, gets drunk, wears a dress; author: did not proofread, faded to black on a lot of sex, did not pick a wedding venue because I’m too picky; overwhelmingly NOT proofread; no use of y/n or related

Summary: You and Jack get married.

AN: And so we've reached the end. The wedding fought me every step of the way, so hopefully that is not reflected in the quality of it, lol. I'm sure part of it was some subconscious block because I don't want them to end. Honestly, it’s quite bittersweet and a little emotional posting this final part as silly as that makes me feel. I've just spent a lot of time in their heads. While Part 1 was not the first Jack fic I posted, it was the first one I worked on and the idea that got me writing again after a four years. Thank you all so so much for reading and supporting me along the way! ♥️ I would be nothing without you all, so truly, thank you for reading the copious amount of words this universe became. I hope it lives up and feels like the ending they deserve. ♥️

Jack’s forehead furrows as his eyebrows raise at your question. “Flew to Vegas tomorrow and elope?” He wants to make sure he heard you correctly. 

“Yeah.” You nod vigorously, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together. You start chewing on your bottom lip and playing with your fingers in your lap. Jack knows you’re genuinely distressed right now and he hates it, hates that he caused it, even inadvertently. He sits up further, leans forward so that he’s closer to you where you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Well, I… I think,” Jack pauses, just needs another second. “I think you’ll regret it, not having the wedding. And don’t-” Jack reaches out and grabs your wrist gently so that you can’t get off the bed like you were moving to, he can already hear your brain attacking you. He finds your gaze again before he keeps talking. “Don’t think that means I don’t want to get married to you. I do. And if we decide we want to elope to Vegas or anywhere else, then I’m okay with that. As long as you end up my wife, okay? I’m not saying no, Doll.” He lets go of your wrist and grabs your hand, laces it with his. “I’m saying that I think we should sleep on it. I think you want the wedding we’ve planned so far and that you’re beyond exhausted and that your anxiety is driving your brain right now, yeah?” 

You just look at him, seem a little like you’re lost to your thoughts, not in them, to them. “I… yeah,” you whisper. 

Jack knows he needs to get you back in bed with him, get you close and help you find your way back and then to sleep. “Come here?” He pats your side of the bed next to him and gives you a little smile. “Please.” You release his hand and crawl over him, snuggle up under the covers into his side and bury your head in his neck. His arms wrap tightly around you and he kisses your temple. “Good girl,” he murmurs, “thank you.” 

You can’t help the way ‘good girl’ makes you shiver. Maybe that’s what you need, you think to yourself, to have Jack fuck you in a hard reset after the week you had. Being in his arms is more than enough though, has you calming and coming back to a state of rationality pretty quick. 

“We’ll sleep on it, okay? I promise we can talk about it in the morning and that I’m not saying no.” Jack clicks his tongue. “Could you pick your dress up early and bring it with us to wear in Vegas?” That makes you snort a laugh into the side of his neck. Jack smiles to himself, pleased he was able to get a laugh out of you. He rocks you a little playfully. “What? I’m dying to see you in your wedding dress.”

“I probably could, yeah.” You slide your hand down Jack’s bare chest a little, trace shapes with your finger, write little messages of love. “But no. We don’t need to sleep on it. I don’t even know what that was. I want what we’ve planned so far.”

Jack rubs your back with one hand. “I’ll check in with you on it tomorrow, okay? Just to be sure. And I think maybe a little panic and a lot of exhaustion. But you also don’t need to know what it was, yeah? It’s okay to not know.” 

You nod. “I just like knowing. Makes me feel like I have some control, which I know is a total fucking illusion.” You sigh into him, nuzzle against his neck. You like the way his stubble feels, it’s oddly grounding for you. “I hate this. Being like this.” 

Jack bites back the urge to say you’re not being like anything because he knows what you mean. Knows you mean you hate feeling so emotionally labile and panicking and feeling out of control. “I know, Doll.” He doesn’t need to say more. It’s not the time. It’s not why you said it. You just need to feel heard and seen. Jack uses his hand on the back of your neck to pull you away from him a little so that he can see you. “Can I do anything?”

You look at him and then to the side as you think. Think back on the flash of a thought you had. Maybe you should ask him to, ask him to fuck you into a hard reset. He does it so well. Knows just how to fuck until you’re sobbing and releasing every pent up emotion in you, and keeps going, fucking you thoughtless and incoherent and unable to feel or think about anything other than him. Knows how to break your mind in just the right way to get all of your emotional turmoil out. Knows how to take his time putting you back together with his touch and his words and his love so that you feel like the normal version of yourself when you wake up the next day, not however you had been feeling. 

He always takes such good care of you after even if the memories of it are so heavily fogged they almost don’t truly exist. He holds you while you keep sobbing, lays on you often, his body weight helping with your shaking, cleans you up, makes sure you get to the bathroom and have some water and sometimes a snack before you fall asleep, whispers reassurances and little expressions of his love while he rocks you until you fall asleep, holds you the entire night as you sleep curled up on him. 

Yeah. You think that just might do the trick, especially with as exhausted as you are and how hard he’ll make you sleep. 

Your eyes find Jack’s again, his eyebrows slightly raised. He knows you thought of something with how long you were looking away. Your expression, the look in your eye and the specific way you look at him makes him think he knows what you need. “Jack,” you whisper. Your voice confirms it. 

Still though. He wants to be explicitly sure so that he doesn’t start something you weren’t asking for that will actually hurt you or make you worse. “Fuck you all the way gone?”

“Yeah.” You nod, eyes already blown wide. “Please.” 

Jack nods, rolls the both of you so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you. “You’re sleeping until you wake up tomorrow. I’m not setting an alarm and I’m not waking you up when I wake up. And if you wake up at a time I deem to be too early you’re going back to sleep, even if I have to put you back to sleep myself.” He drops his hips against you then and grinds against you as if you didn’t already know what he meant. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you breathe.

Six weeks. Only six weeks left until the wedding. It feels so short and so long at the same time. Pretty much everything is planned, everything you could possibly do up to this point is done. It’s just a waiting game for the next couple of weeks. 

You’d worked late tonight so you went to the hospital instead of home, planning on surprising Jack and suggesting you grab dinner somewhere if he was up to it after his shift. If not, maybe you could grab takeout on the way home. 

When you found Jack he was finishing some charting at the desk and talking to Robby. Somewhere along the lines the conversation between the three of you turned to your bachelor and bachelorette parties.  

“No strippers.” Jack glances up at Robby from the computer. 

“Okay.” Robby nods. 

Jack looks up at him again. “No strippers.” His eyes return to the computer.

“No strippers.” Robby nods again. He doesn’t even sound facetious. Something about the interaction so far is quite entertaining to you. 

“Hey,” Jack looks up at him again, “I’m serious. No strippers. She won’t even be the mad one. I will be. No strippers.” 

“Peter, he agreed the last two times.” Jack looks over at you and blinks as you nod. You know you should stop there but you can’t help yourself. You shrug, try and look nonchalant. “He’s seen my boobs, he knows you don’t need to be looking at any stripper’s tits.” 

Jack’s head whips back over to Robby, eyes glaring just a little at his best friend. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Okay, I never said that.” Robby holds up his hands. “She did. I didn’t even think about that. I was simply respecting the boundary you set when you said no strippers for your bachelor party.” Robby brings his hands back down and shrugs. “But again, they’re very nice b-”

“I,” Jack interrupts Robby loudly to get him to stop talking before returning to a normal voice, glaring daggers at him now, “will cancel the entire party and find someone else to officiate our wedding if you finish that fucking sentence Michael.”

You struggled to hide your laughter the second Robby started to say you have nice boobs again but Jack’s reaction pulls an audible laugh from you. Both Robby and Jack turn to look at you. “I just,” you shrug, “you guys are funny.” It didn’t escape your notice when Myrna moved in closer. You and her shared a conspiratorial look, something you seem to often do when you’re together.

“You know,” Myrna interjects. All three sets of eyes find her in her chair a little behind Jack and Robby. “I could show Fruitcake my tits. Then they’d be the last pair he saw.”

“Thank you, Myrna, that would be perfect.” Jack smiles at her genuinely before looking to Robby with an overly saccharine smile. 

“Absolutely not. Put,” Robby emphasizes the word and shuts his eyes “your shirt down Myrna.” She’d started to pull it up. He opens his eyes and looks at Jack. “The officiant threat? It works both ways.”

Robby turns and starts to walk away and Jack snorts making Robby stop and turn back around. “Oh please, you love us and her white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies far too much to even dream of it, Michael.”

“Don’t worry Fruitcake, you can have some of this cookie.” Myrna tells Robby with a suggestive eyebrow raise and smirk before starting to wheel herself away.

Jack bites back his laughter and holds his hands up in truce at that one. He goes to say something but Robby stops him. 

“Just don’t.” Robby holds his hand up at Jack. “Just don’t say anything and we’re all going to leave and you’re going to buy me several drinks.” 

Jack looks over at you, eyebrows raised, smirking. “I suppose I did kind of start it, didn’t I?” You admit with a nod. “A few drinks seems fair.” 

The wedding is in five weeks, just over a month. It’s all you can think about as Jack drives you to Dana’s house. It’s 2 p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve been invited over for a little party for Dana to show off the kitchen remodel they just finished on the house. 

“Did she say if lots of people are coming?” you ask Jack. 

Jack shrugs. “She didn’t, no. Just said to show up with you.” You smile at that. Sounds like Dana. 

“Hey, are you doing the whole something old something new thing?” Jack asks.  “I heard a patient discussing it yesterday and it made me wonder.”

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it I guess.” You think on it for a few seconds and then shrug. “I mean I guess I’d like to but no, probably not. Where would I get that stuff from, you know? I don’t want to ask anything else of anyone, everyone has already done so much for us.”

Jack hums in acknowledgment. “People would if you asked. Without hesitation or feeling burdened.”

“I know, but still. It’s really not a huge deal.” You look over at Jack and squeeze his hand where it rests on your thigh. “It’s not like we’re doing all of the wedding traditions.”

“No we most certainly are not.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you with a bit of a lopsided grin. Jack turns down the street and finds a place to park. “Time to go see how many people showed.” He gets out of the car and walks around to open your door for you, gives you a kiss as you get out. 

The two of you walk hand in hand up to Dana’s door and knock. “Hi!” Dana throws the door open. “So glad you could make it!” You’re both ushered in as you exchange hellos and hugs. Jack and Dana share a look as you set your purse down on the credenza with your back to them. 

“Well! Lead the way! I’m excited to see it, especially since you wouldn’t tell me which granite you settled on.” You throw her a look. 

She laughs, starts walking you through the hallway towards the kitchen. But the three of you stop once you hit the living room. 

The living room is decorated in bridal shower decor, a banner reading ‘bride to be’ hanging from the mantel and sitting and standing and mingling amongst it all are a few of your coworkers who you’re close to, your friend, and many of the Pitt crew, Victoria, Samira, Cassie, Mel, Heather, Kim, Parker and Princess. A chorus of soft ‘surprise!’ rings out as everyone looks at you and tips their cups to you. You smile and give a little wave, still shocked and struggling a bit to process. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble. “Dana?” You look over at her questioningly. “You didn’t… this is… wow.” A surprise bridal shower for you. A genuine, you had no fucking clue you weren’t coming here for a get together to show off the remodeled kitchen, surprise. 

“Surprise!” Dana laughs. 

“Yeah,” you laugh out incredulously. You turn to Jack. “Did you know?” You’re not sure why you’re asking. You can tell from the lack of surprise on his face that he did. 

“I did, but only for like a week,” Jack explains. You give him a lingering look of bewilderment mixed with incredulity before turning back to Dana. 

“Dana, this is so much.” You shake your head at her a little. “This must have been so much work, I… thank you, I just, I don’t know, I don’t know what to say.” You laugh a little. 

Jack slips away to give you and Dana a moment, goes back to the front door to wait for you to come say goodbye. He smiles to himself. He’s glad Dana ended up planning one for you. She’d asked him off-hand months ago if you were planning one and he’d told her no, you weren’t, but he thought your friend might try to. He didn’t hear anything else about it until last week when she revealed the kitchen party was really a bridal shower for you.

“You don’t have to say anything. All you have to do is come have a good time with us.” Dana smirks at you. “We have so much champagne to get through.” That makes you smile. You love champagne. “And it’s real champagne, not sparkling wine.” She winks at you. 

“Oh I’m sure it’s amazing, I just, I don’t know I feel bad because you guys already threw us such an amazing engagement party, and now this and you really didn’t have to. I love it and appreciate it so much, I just hope you didn’t feel like you had to since I wasn’t planning one.” Your brows and forehead are furrowed in concern. 

The engagement party wasn’t a surprise, you and Jack knew about it from the beginning. You just weren’t involved in the planning, were given a date and time and eventually a place to show up to. It had been beautiful, incredibly you and Jack, and so obvious how well those who planned it knew you as individuals and a couple. You couldn’t have planned a better one for yourselves. Nor would you have, but you were both told that everyone wanted to celebrate the two of you and if nothing else it was a reason for a party. It had been perfect. And you know this bridal shower will be too. You’re still just floored.

“I didn’t at all.” Dana smiles at you, gives you another hug. “And I wasn’t involved in the planning of the engagement party, that was all Robby and Heather and Mel, so it’s not like I’m pulling double duty. Plus I had a lot of help.” She glances over at your friend who tips her drink at you again with a smirk. Dana releases you but keeps her hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “Come on, go say goodbye to your man and then you can see the granite while you get some food and a drink.” 

“Thank you, Dana.” You manage to catch one of her hands when she takes them off your shoulders. “I mean it,” you squeeze her hand, “it really means so much to me and to Jack and I know I can be bad at expressing it. So thank you.” 

Dana smiles at you warmly in that way she does, eyes knowing and head bowing just a little to make it knowing. “You’re welcome.”

“Alright, let me say goodbye to Jack!” You turn from Dana and walk back into the hallway where Jack’s standing waiting for you, pleased smile on his face. “I can’t believe you knew.” You shake your head at him. 

“Keeping that secret was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done and I only knew for a week. I wanted to tell you so badly.” He laughs a little, wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close and you rest your hands on his chest. “But you deserve this. The surprise. The shower. I know you think you don’t and I know me saying you do isn’t going to convince you, but you do.” He leans in and gives you a quick kiss. “Enjoy yourself, yeah?”

You nod. “I always do with everyone here.” 

Jack laughs a little. “Good. I expect to hear all about it later.” 

“I’ll do my best to take notes for you.” You give him a little smirk for a second and then let your face even back out. “You picking me up?”

“Course,” he nods, “just call me when you’re ready Doll.”

“Okay.” The two of you share one last kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” You both walk over to the door and Jack steps out. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” 

A month. Only a month until the wedding. It’s swirling in Jack’s mind as he sits on the couch reading with the quiet buzz of the police scanner in the background when his phone goes off. He half expects it to be a message asking him to come get you from whatever bar or club it is you ended up at. 

Y - u come dwn

Y - ?

Y - pls

An amused smile makes its way onto Jack’s face. He’s seen you pretty tipsy before and it looks like he will be again. He thinks it’s cute the way you asked him to come down, how you knew he’d be up and waiting for you even though it’s 2:30 a.m. 

J - I’ll be waiting. 

Jack is only waiting outside for a few minutes before an SUV driven by Dana’s husband rolls up. He and Jack exchange knowing smiles and shake their heads. Jack walks over to the back door and can hear all the giggles before he even opens it. 

“Peter!” You beam at him, reaching for him with both hands as you sit on the seat of the car with your legs hanging out for a minute. “Hi! I missed you so much!” you giggle. Jack takes in your quite dilated pupils and the way you slur your words a bit and extremely giggly affect.

“Oh, you’re drunk drunk,” Jack laughs to himself as he takes your hands and helps you get out of the car, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist to help support and stabilize you as he gets you on the sidewalk.

The driver’s window rolls down. “They’re all more or less three sheets to the wind. The rest are sleeping in our guest room because I don’t trust them alone at home and don’t think they have partners. I’m glad one of them,” Dana’s husband points at you and smirks, “had the sense to call me and not an uber.”

Jack glances at you. “Yeah, I am too.”

“I was gonna call you but D has a bigger car an’ we could all fit,” you giggle, words slurring together as you lean further into Jack. Someone rolls the window down and Dana, your friend, Heather, and Samira’s heads become visible to varying extents.

Jack looks at them and then back at you and then back to Dana’s husband. “Good luck and godspeed.” Jack nods at him before turning his attention back to you. “Okay, Doll, let’s get you to bed.”

You take in a gasping breath and stand up a little straighter at his words, hands grabbing at the chest of Jack’s shirt. “Fan-fucking-tastic idea, Dr. Abbot. Do y’know how hot you are? Do I tell you enough? Look at him.” You look over at the window. “Wait no don’t he’s mine.” A second later you gasp. “Oh my god and he’s like your boss. Mostly. Kinda.” That makes you all burst into giggles again.

“Okay,” Jack drawls, he already knows his version of bed and yours are two very different things, “say goodnight.” 

“Goodnight! I love you all! Thank you! Debrief tomorrow!” You let go of Jack’s shirt with both hands to blow them all kisses and Jack’s quick to hold you even tighter as you sway now that you’re not holding onto him. You turn with Jack and start walking in, his arm never leaving your waist and hold on you never loosening. 

Getting you inside and to the bedroom is easier than Jack expected. You’re not super unsteady on your feet when he’s helping support you and guiding you. He’s never seen you this drunk, not that you’re blackout drunk by any means, he’s just never seen you like this. He finds it quite adorable, even if it’s a little difficult to keep your attention. 

Once you’re in your room Jack has you stand by the edge of the bed, planning on starting to take your clothes off so he can get you off to sleep. “You know you haven’t even kissed me?” You pout at him. 

Jack gives an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to get you inside safely.” He tilts your chin up and leans down and into you. “Come here,” he murmurs. His kisses are short but filled with so much reverence you could drown in it.

“Jack,” you sigh happily, get your lips on his neck and start to kiss and suck as your hands begin to wander. “Please.”

Jack laughs a little to try and cover the groan he can’t help but make when you manage to nibble at his neck. He pulls back up and looks at you. “Please what, Doll?”

“Please fuck me into next week.” 

“Mm,” Jack gives you a gentle smile and shakes his head, “you, my love, are far too drunk to consent to sex right now, as much as I would love to fuck you into next week.” 

“Jackie!” you whine, pout harder than he’s ever seen. It’s so adorable it’s a bit comical and he stifles a laugh. Maybe if he sees you naked, your drunk brain thinks, maybe then. 

You start taking off your clothes and the only reason he allows it is because he needs to get them off of you. Once you’re completely undressed you bite your lip when he starts to take his shirt off, thrilled your plan worked and ready to surge forward and suck hickies into his chest once he gets his pajama pants off. That’s why you’re so confused when Jack holds his shirt out for you. You only question it for a second though, drunk and horny brain thinking he just wants to fuck you while you’re wearing his shirt. 

You giggle at him. “So dirty, want me in your shirt. Want me to ride you too?” Your slurring is adorably intermittent. 

Jack shakes his head at you with an amused smirk. “I’d like you to come into the bathroom with me so I can take your makeup off.”

“Jack!” It’s a drawn out whine that almost makes his name two syllables this time. “We’re engaged.” You bring your left hand up towards his face and he has to grab your wrist gently to stop you from accidentally shoving your hand in his face. “See? That’s blanket consent.” You wink at him, or at least attempt to.

Jack laughs through his nose, smiling and shaking his head at you. “That’s not how that works, Doll.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and lean back on your elbows, open your legs for him a bit. “I think yes it is.” 

“I know no it’s not.” Jack raises his brows at you and gives you a little look with a small smile.

“Well I’m sayin’ yes,” you slur defiantly.  

“Doll, you are too drunk to say yes and have it mean yes. So I’m saying no, okay? First thing in the morning.” Jack gives you a little smiled grimace, trying to keep it light and tease you a little about the hangover he’s sure you’ll have. “If you’re feeling up to it.” 

But the humor doesn’t land and exactly what he was worried about happening happens. 

“You don’t want me?” It’s suddenly far more serious, your voice dripping with some real hurt, real insecurity. 

“I always want you.” Jack crouches down and holds your face in his hands, brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. “Hey,” he calls softly when you won’t meet his eyes. “Look at me.” You don’t. “Please? It’s important.” It takes a second but eventually you do as he asked and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gentle squeeze of your face. “I always want you. And if you weren’t drunk, absolutely, I’d already be inside you. Remember, I said you’re too drunk to consent as much as I would love to fuck you into next week?” You blink at him, vaguely recalling him making such a statement but eyeing him suspiciously. “I promise you I am very hard right now. So please believe me that this has nothing to do with whether I want you and am attracted to you because yes and yes, I promise you Doll. I always want you. Your trust in me to protect you and take care of you and respect you is something I want too. My wants are at odds right now.” Jack goes to say more but stops, shakes his head a little, smiles at you. “And I know you’re not really taking any of this in so I’m going to stop. But know that I always want you. Always.”

You’re silent for a moment and Jack is concerned you don’t believe him and trying to think of a different approach. “Okay, but I always want you.” You smirk at him, pulled from your sadness and back to giggly and horny and happy drunk. You grab his hands from your face and try to get them to grab your boobs but Jack won’t let you, pulling his hands away. “So it’s the same. So yes, we can. Yes, it means yes.” 

“That was a poor choice of words.” Jack sighs to himself and brings his chin to his chest for a second. “It’s not quite the same or what I meant.” He shakes his head at you. “As soon as you’re ready to and want to once you’re sober, okay?” You whine and go to say something, probably argue more. “I got your favorite Ben and Jerry’s today. You want to-”

You gasp and stand up, Jack following you up and his arms quickly encircling you to keep you from falling over. “Did you really?” 

Jack nods as he guides you back down so you’re sitting on the bed again. “I really did. How about you have some of that and some pedialyte and ibuprofen while I get your makeup off? And then we’ll sleep, yeah?”

“Okay. But only because you got Ben and Jerry’s.” You point at him in the overdramatic way only a drunk person can. 

“Good.” Jack smiles, leans down to kiss your forehead before starting to go to the kitchen. “Stay sitting here, okay? Please.” 

You hum your agreement. “At least one of us will be getting BJs tonight,” you mutter as he walks away. But Jack hears it and starts laughing. 

He turns back to you at the door, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he looks at you. “I love you so much, you know that?” You nod at him and let yourself fall back onto the bed.

Two weeks later you’re standing at the desk in the Pitt chatting with Jack. It’s a common sight anymore. You’re waiting for Dana. She’s sneaking out early to go to your last dress fitting with you. The wedding is only two weeks away and while there’s of course last minute wedding stress, truly you’re more excited than anything, ready for it to be here and be Jack’s wife, take his last name. And Jack is just as excited, just as antsy for it to be here. 

“I can’t even see the shoes?” Jack gives you a little pout. It’s adorable and it honestly makes you consider showing him because he’s doing it here at work, in front of people. 

“You can’t even see the shoes,” you confirm, give his pushed out bottom lip a quick kiss. 

“You’re so mean to me having them right here in front of me in a bag and not letting me see!” He gestures at the bag, keeps giving you those puppy dog eyes that almost always work on you. Almost. 

You step a little closer to him and drop your voice so only he can hear. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay Dr. Abbot?” You smirk when his jaw clenches and rolls. 

He leans in even closer, hunches a bit to bring your faces closer together. “By giving me a fashion show of your wedding dress and shoes?” He raises his eyebrows and gives you an encouraging smile and nod. He knows you’re most likely taking the dress home tonight. 

“Peter!” You smack at his chest playfully. 

“I had to try!” Jack straightens back up to his full height.

“Mhm,” you hum at him. “It’s too bad, you would have really liked my little make it up to you treat.” Another clench and roll of his jaw.

“Oh? And what would-”

“Oh, hey! You’re here, great.” Robby interrupts Jack who turns to stare daggers at him for interrupting his chance to find out what you had planned. “I uh, I need to talk to you both. Can we talk? Um, over here?”

Robby starts walking towards the family room and you and Jack exchange confused and slightly concerned looks before following him. Robby seems nervous, jumpy almost. Jack knows he hasn’t been like this all day, only just now. Robby holds open the door for you both, shuts it and sits across from you. 

He clears his throat and looks at you. “Jack already told you about Jake and I.” It’s a statement that picks up just slightly at the end as he seeks confirmation. 

“Yes and I’m so happy for you Robby, for both of you. I’d love to meet him when you’re ready, we could have you guys over or something.” You smile at him, warm and enthusiastic and genuine.

Jack had told you about Robby and Jake. Once he’d left your house the morning after Leah’s sister came in Robby had called Jake and Jake answered. And Jake agreed to meet up with Robby at Robby’s place to watch a game and talk some maybe. Apparently it had all come out then. Jack had been right. Robby had been trying to give Jake space and let Jake come back to him, but Jake wasn’t sure how to find his way back to Robby, how to ask Robby to forgive him or how to reach out and ask to hang out, not after everything he’d said that day. And since then over the last month things had been getting back closer to how they were before Pitt Fest between Robby and Jake, different, yes, for multiple reasons, but similar in the amount of talking and seeing each other. 

“Yeah, that would be great, I think he’d enjoy that. He’s asked about you Jack.” Robby looks over at him. “But, um, on that note, kind of, I was won-”

“He should come to the wedding!” You blurt it out and cut Robby off without even realizing it because you just had to say the thought as soon as it came into your head. “Oh my god.” You cover your hand with your mouth and Jack has to laugh. You remove your hand after a second. ��I’m so sorry, I just had the thought and, and it doesn’t matter. Please, go on.” 

Robby’s stuck blinking at you for a moment. Jack looks at Robby and then you and then back to Robby and snorts a laugh. 

“He was about to ask if Jake could come to the wedding.”

You look at Jack and back to Robby. “Really?”

Robby nods. “Yeah. But it’s okay if he can’t, like if you don’t have the table space or dinner or any of that I know it’s like two weeks away and you probably can’t change numbers.”

“Of course he can come, we want him to come.” Jack gives Robby a bit of a you had to ask? look. 

“We booked extra spaces and food just in case. And he’s basically your son, he’s not just invited, we want him there! I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it and ask earlier-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Robby cuts you off with a bit of a laugh. “It means a lot that you guys want him there. I appreciate it.” He stands up. “That’s all I had, I just didn’t want you to feel awkward if you had to say no in the middle of the ED because of space or whatever.”

The second you step out someone is calling for Robby. “I’m being paged.” Robby raises his eyebrows and walks backwards for a second before turning around to walk off to where he’s needed. 

“Hey! There you are!” Dana calls, starts walking over to you. It’s strange seeing her in anything other than scrubs. “You ready?”

“Yeah!” You turn back to Jack and lean up for a kiss and quick hug. “I’ll see you soon Peter, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack returns your hug and kiss, but catches your wrist as you start to walk away. You turn and look back at him with a smile and raised brows. Jack looks serious with just a touch of what seems almost like desperation. “What was it? The make it up treat for me when I get home?”

Your smile shifts into a smirk as you pull your hand from him and walk backwards slowly. “That’s for me to know and you to maybe find out, lover boy.”

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

You and Jack emerge from the metro just across from the Louvre. Grabbing Jack’s hand you lead the two of you over towards a side entrance and enter near the restaurant patio and walk out into the plaza with the inverted pyramid. After you’ve walked closer you release Jack’s hand so that you can take a couple of photos with your phone.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You walk ahead of Jack a bit without realizing it.

“Stunning,” Jack murmurs to himself. But Jack isn’t looking around at the pyramid and the buildings. Jack is focused solely on you. He stays behind you but moves to the side a little bit and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box he’d gotten just for this, takes your engagement ring out of it. He actually had forced himself to wear your ring on a chain around his neck this morning, just for this and had taken it off the chain while waiting for you to use the bathroom earlier in the day.

He keeps himself behind you by a few steps and pulls his pant leg up a bit as he slides down on one knee. Again. 

“What do you think? I know it probably doesn’t live up to expectations with how I went on about it, I just love it so much for some reason.” You smile to yourself and turn to where you think Jack is going to be standing, wanting to see his expression as he takes it in. But he’s not there and so your brows furrow as you start to turn to look for him. 

Jack smiles in anticipation. He knows that it’s a little ridiculous maybe, probably, seeing as how you’re already engaged, but still. As much as his other proposal felt right and was right, this still feels kind of right too. You turn completely and your eyes find him already down on one knee this time.

“Shut the fuck up.” You clamp a hand over your mouth. You know he’s already proposed but even so, that’s the first thing you say? You think to yourself. Really? 

Jack laughs, closing his eyes and leaning forward on his knee a little bit. “Oh my god,” he breathes through a small laugh, smiling as wide as he ever has and shaking his head as he straightens back up and looks up at you. “I love you so goddamn much. That was so perfectly you.”

You pull your hand from your mouth and open it like you’re going to say something and then close it, put your hand back over it. 

Jack has to laugh a little at that too. He decides to keep it short and sweet this time. “You are far and away the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I hope you know that.” He’s still smiling but becomes a little more serious, eyes sparkling with mirth and tears. “I want to do every day and every night with you. I love you. So what do you say, Doll? Will you marry me?”

You move your hand from your mouth as a few tears slip down your face. You’re beaming at Jack as you start to nod. “Yes” you giggle, “yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you, Jack Abbot.” 

After you spend the day at the Louvre Jack explains why he had you bring a nice cocktail dress with you. He’d made a reservation at a quite upscale Parisian restaurant to celebrate the second proposal. As thrilled as you are to have gone back to the hotel and gotten all dressed up and to be here and as special and as spoiled as you feel, half of you is ready to throw back your champagne and drag Jack back to the hotel. He’s in a pair of slim fit black dress pants, a simple collared button up shirt in white and a black blazer that matches his pants. 

You order a very nice bottle of champagne to share during dinner. Once your glasses are poured, you hold yours up and tip it towards Jack a little. “To the Abbots.” 

Jack swallows hard but mirrors you, lifting his glass and tipping it towards you a little before you carefully clink your glasses together. “To the Abbots.” 

The drink he takes is fairly quick because he wants to watch you and the way your lips wrap around the rim of the flute and how the flicker of the candle on your table with the low lighting of the restaurant make your eyes look almost moltent. He’s particularly wired for you tonight, can’t really put his finger on why. 

Maybe it’s just the whole thing, being in Paris together, having just proposed again, you in that dress. Maybe the second proposal has just really shoved it right back in his face that you’re going to be his wife. His wife. 

Whatever the reason is all Jack knows is he’s been half hard since you left the hotel, and you are, unknowingly in fairness to you, winding him up more and more with every little thing you do. He doesn’t want to rush this, at all, and he doesn’t, but that tension and need for you just continues to build. 

He doesn’t realize it but it’s the same for you. Jack looks so fucking hot dressed like this. He always does but there’s something about this and how rare it is for you to see him like this and the fact that you’re seeing him like this in Paris that’s driving you up a wall. 

You get through the bottle of champagne while eating your appetizer and mains. You both decide on a dessert to share and a drink, Jack picking a fancy scotch you’re praying you’ll be able to taste on him later. 

As your waitress is walking away Jack messes with his tie, unknotting it and shoving it in his pocket before undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. In part because he has a plan and in part because he does in fact feel smothered and too hot, but not from the temperature of the room. “It’s hot in here, I was dying with that thing, sorry Doll.” 

Your eyes narrow and you cock your head at him but don’t say anything. You know he runs hotter than you but, at least to you, the restaurant isn’t particularly hot and you’re usually the one who’s more temperature sensitive. And something about what Jack just did feels familiar. But then maybe you’re just lightheaded and dizzy by how he somehow looks even hotter with his collar open like that. If he takes his blazer off and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows you’ll be on your knees between his legs with everyone watching.

“Hey?” Jack’s voice cuts through your thoughts and brings you back. “You good?” He’s almost a little too nonchalant with the question. 

You look at him for a moment before you smile and nod at him. “More than, Peter. Looking forward to dessert.”

Jack hums low, eyes greedy as they roam over your face, down your neck to your cleavage and then back up so he’s looking you in the eyes again. He fills out well past half hard, thankful he’s sitting and that the table provides cover. “Me too, Doll, me too.” 

Before you can say anything else your drinks are brought over and by the time the waitress walks away again Jack is asking you a question about Versailles tomorrow. It feels like he’s trying to distract you. You let him.

Dessert comes not long after your drinks and looks amazing. It’s as delicious as it looks and the soft moan you let out when you first taste it has Jack even more riled. He’s ready to slam his drink, finish the dessert in two bites and get you the fastest taxi back to the hotel so that he can finally be tasting you or inside of you or fingering you. He doesn’t particularly care which at the moment, he just needs you. 

It hits you mid sip and you take a hum in, have to temper your reaction so you can swallow and not bring the glass down to the table so hard it breaks in your hand. “Tie raincheck.” You nod a little. “Tie raincheck, that is exactly what this is.” 

Jack raises his eyebrows at you, tries to feign confusion. “No idea what you mean, Doll.” Jack takes a sip of scotch.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes you do.”

Jack sets his drink down and looks up at you. “Dessert.” He points to it with his spoon.

“Tell me I’m right.” You can feel your pulse quicken, fight the urge to rub your legs together to get the tiniest bit of friction. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him as you think about what’s to come, how he’s going to use the tie on you. 

There’s a subtle shift in the energy between the two of you, Jack becoming far more dominant as you decide whether to behave or be a brat. “Doll.”

“Peter.”

Jack cocks his head at you. “Eat.” There’s a bit of a warning to it. 

“You know exactly what I mean. On the roof of the hospital because we didn’t get to go to the wedding.” You set your spoon down and lean in a bit. “You told me you promised to give me a raincheck on the tie because I’d said something earlier about what you’d wear to the wedding and the tie would be in your pocket at the reception waiting to be used on me.”   

Jack’s eyes darken a bit more and he sets his spoon down, leans in close to you over the table and holds your gaze. “I know that as soon as we finish this,” he nods down at the dessert without breaking eye contact that’s started to smolder, voice lower and more gravelly, “we can go back to the hotel and I can use the tie shoved in my pocket on you and fuck you until you’re so cock drunk off me the only three things you can say are ‘Jack,’ ‘yours,’ and ‘wife.’” He leans back to sit normally and picks his spoon back up, gives you a little smile like he didn’t just promise to fuck you stupid. “Dessert first, yeah?” 

It takes you a few seconds but eventually you nod wordlessly and pick up your spoon. 

You start eating noticeably faster than normal and taking bigger sips of your drink. Jack pins your spoon with the rounded point of his the next time you go for a bite. You look up at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. You’re eating dessert like he asked. 

“Don’t rush.” You let out the smallest whine but Jack catches it, raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you for a moment before letting your spoon go. 

You do as he asks, slow yourself back down to your normal pace, or at least as close as you can get with how wired he’s gotten you. Jack knows and lets it happen. He knows he’s taking slightly bigger bites than he normally would because as much as he loves teasing you and dragging it out he’s also pretty desperate to get back to the hotel, to tease you and drag it out there. 

You finally finish dessert and your drinks and Jack pays. He flags down a taxi to get you guys back to the hotel and the way he waves and whistles to get the driver’s attention since their window is down has absolutely no business being as hot as it is. 

In the cab you can’t help yourself. Your hand wanders over to Jack’s thigh and moves up and in until you find his semi. You know it’s going to come back to bite you in the ass but you can’t help yourself and rub him, try to get your thumb around the ridge at the head of his cock how you know he likes. Jack stifles a quiet grunt as you get him harder. His jaw clenches, chest starts to heave a little, breathing a bit louder. His hand wraps around your wrist and moves your hand, pins it to the seat between you. You pout, both because he’s stopped your fun and because he deliberately hasn’t given you the satisfaction and looked at you since you got in.   

Just as he always does Jack walks around the car and opens the door for you when you get to the hotel, gives you his hand to take to help you out. He looks at you finally as you take it and let him help you out, gives you a little smirked smile and raise of an eyebrow. He’s quiet as you walk through the hotel and in the elevator. You were hoping he’d push you up against the wall of it and makeout with you, let you find out if you can taste his scotch on him. But no. He just lets the anticipation and tension build. A hand on the small of your back guides you to your hotel room where he opens the door for you. 

“Stop,” Jack instructs you as you step into the bedroom. You hesitate and he sees it, sees you deciding whether you’re going to push him tonight. You decide not to and so do as he asks, stopping in place. “Good.” Jack turns and goes back to get the door deadbolted and secured before coming back to you. 

Warm hands find the zipper of your dress and pull it down, help you shrug out of it. He crouches to get your shoes off and have you step out of the dress. Jack takes his time hanging the dress up, watching from the corner of his eyes how you shift on your feet in anticipation. 

He walks back to you, stands in front of you this time, eyes dragging down your body, lingering on the lingerie you’re wearing, that he had to force himself to ignore after he got your dress off you so he could tease you by hanging it up. “You get this for me?” Jack slips a finger under one of the bra straps and pulls it away before releasing it to snap back against your skin. It makes you shiver. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

Jack hums at that, brings his eyes to yours and gives you a smile. “So good using your words without me having to ask.” His attention returns to your body and the lingerie. He starts palming at himself over his pants much like you did in the cab. He lets out a low breath as he hardens fully and fights the urge to say fuck it and just take you now because god knows he wants to. 

Instead, he pulls his hands away and moves them down towards the bottom of the set where they play with the waistband, making their way to the side and repeating his actions with your bra, slipping a finger under it and pulling the material towards him before letting it snap back against you. You’re breathing much heavier now, both of you can hear it.

“It’s very pretty, and you’re stunning in it, Doll,” he murmurs, flicks his eyes back to yours so he can look you in the eyes for a second, make sure you know how much he means it. Jack hums as one hand moves to his pocket. He pulls out his pocket knife and flicks it open without looking as his other hand toys with one side of the waistband that sits on the outside of your hip. “It’s a shame really.”

He pulls the fabric out far enough to slip the blade under it and pulls, cutting through the material with ease. 

“Fuck, Jack.” His eyes flash to yours when you say his name. There’s something darkly and deeply possessive about his look. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen it this intense before. It makes your heart beat faster. 

He does the same to the other side, holds onto the material so that he can slide your underwear from between your legs before it hits the floor. He glances down at the gusset and then back at you. “Messy girl.” Jack smirks, and closes the knife, slips it back in his pocket with your underwear. He brings his hand down to your center, runs a couple of fingers through you to see how wet you already are for him. “Fuck,” he groans, other hand rubbing his cock just for some friction and relief, “that for me too?”

You nod and he raises an eyebrow. “Yes, yes. For you. Always for you.” 

Jack throbs against his boxer briefs that are entirely too tight for his liking now. You’re testing his patience without even knowing it, just by standing here and doing what he asks. It’s not a bad thing, he’s just acutely aware of how much teasing you is teasing him. 

He pulls his hand away and licks his fingers clean and his other hand pops the clasp of your bra. The whole thing makes a shiver race up your spine, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. He tosses the bra aside and spends a moment just looking at your breasts, licks his lips without even realizing it. 

Jack pulls away a bit and his hand finds his other pocket, pulls out the tie. You whimper a little at the sight. “Now, what to do with this?” He cocks his head at you. “Could gag you with it. Tie your ankles together.” His hands find yours, bring them up in front of you and turn your wrists slightly so that your hands are in front of your chest, palm to palm like you’re praying. “I think,” Jack lilts, “this is what we’re going to do. You were just so handsy in the cab, afterall, I’m sure you had your fill of touching me then. Plus,” he takes your underwear from your pocket and lays it over one of your shoulders, “we have these for your mouth.” He binds your hands together with the tie expertly, running it across the back of your palms and fingers in addition to your wrists so you can’t even open your hands to try and touch him. He knots it off with a bowline knot. Strong, but very easily undone should the need arise. 

“No!” You shake your head at him, whining and pleading. “I didn’t, I didn’t!”

Jack hums at you. “Well that’s also a shame, then.” He grabs your underwear from your shoulder and brings them to your mouth. “Open.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Jack freezes immediately. Wait is not one of your safe words but it’s also not something you end up saying that much during sex, especially not how you just said it. “No! Not bad!” That stops him from pulling out the knot. “A kiss, please.” It’s almost begged and Jack lets out a little laugh, a small amused smirk forming. “I want to know if I can taste your scotch on you, please, I’ve been thinking about it since you ordered it. Please, please, Jack. I’ll be so good, please!”

The smirk slips from Jack’s face as his jaw grinds at your words, at how you’ve been thinking about tasting him for that long. “I suppose you’ve been listening quite well so far.” You both know this is as much for him as it is for you after your admission. 

Jack holds your face in his hands and leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens in anticipation and he’s quick to give you what you want, sliding his tongue into your mouth, one hand sliding from your face down to grope at your ass as he gets lost in the kiss. It’s longer than he intended but he doesn’t care, he can’t get enough of the moans it’s pulling from you every time he licks into you and sucks on your bottom lip. 

He forces himself to pull away. “So?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “I could. Tasted so fucking good.” 

“Good.” Jack steps back and takes his hands off you but hovers them nearby for a second to make sure your balance is okay with your hands tied like they are after leaning into him for the kiss. “I hope you enjoyed it because the next time I kiss you I won’t taste like it.” He brings your underwear back to your mouth. “You remember everything?” He’s asking if you remember how to get him to stop when you have neither your hands nor your mouth like this. You nod and he can see in your eyes that you do. “Good,” he nods. “Open.” You do and he stuffs your underwear inside of your mouth, thumb brushing over your bottom lip when he’s finished.

You track his every movement as he walks over to the desk and takes his blazer off, sets it over the back of the desk chair. He turns and looks at you, walks back so that he’s only six or so feet in front of you and undoes the button at one of his wrists, starts rolling his sleeve up just below his elbow, and doing the same with the second.

If you trusted yourself to get onto your knees safely with your hands tied like this you would, spit out your underwear and crawl over to him. But you don’t so all you can do is stand there and whine a few moans at him, try to plead with your eyes, for what you’re not entirely sure. 

Jack hums at you. “Bet you wish you hadn’t been handsy in the cab now, don’t you?”

You whimper at that, hand your shoulders a little. Jack smirks. 

He walks to the bathroom and grabs a clean towel, lays it over the edge of the bed. “Go sit.” You do as he asks, quivering in anticipation the whole time. Jack walks to the head of the bed and grabs a bunch of pillows, props them all right behind you. He wants you to lean back and watch, wants to be able to make eye contact with you. 

Jack walks back to the edge of the bed and stands in between your legs when they automatically part for them. “You gonna be good and watch?” 

You nod rapidly, not even sure what it is you’re going to be watching but knowing it’s going to feel almost too good and be almost too erotic to stand with how keyed up you are.

“Good,” Jack nods. He sinks to his knees then and you let out a muffled cry at the realization. His hands find your ankles and he rests the flat of your feet on his shoulders, pulls you down by the hips so that your ass will just slightly be hanging off the bed and tilting your hips up when he gets you to lay back. He pulls the pillows closer to you again. “Lay back.”

Jack nods at you, looks down at your cunt, now perfectly on display for him, swollen and glistening. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, smirks when it has the desired effect and has you clenching around nothing and whining. Jack kisses the insides of your thighs, sucks at your skin hard enough to burst blood vessels, nibbles at you. He turns his attention back to your pussy. “You smell so good.” He kisses just above your clit and you roll your hips, using his shoulders as leverage. He tilts his head and rests it on your thigh for a second as he looks up at you. It’s a bit of an unexpected move, not one you can recall him doing to you, though you frequently do it to him when you’re taking him in your mouth. Jack breathes in deep through his nose and groans from his chest. “Always smell so good for me. And you taste just as good.”

You whimper and clench around nothing just as Jack surges forward and licks you cunt to clit. You flinch at the feeling, hips bucking up. The vibration of Jack’s laugh meets your clit as he sucks it into his mouth, his hands finding your hips and pinning them down. 

He teases your clit with the tip of his tongue as he sucks on it, gently rolls it between his teeth before pulling away. His tongue circles around it and then drops down, pushes inside your pussy, fucks you a few times before it figure eights back up to your clit, flicks over it rapidly before he sucks it into his mouth again. 

You’re wailing for him because you can be with your underwear muffling every cry and moan his tongue rips for you. You’re teary from the pleasure already, your whole body on fire. You never want him to stop it feels so good. Your hips struggle against Jack’s hands, trying to buck up to no avail, hands straining against the tie because you want your hands in his hair so badly, want to grip at the sheets, something, anything. 

The intense eye contact you share makes Jack’s tongue feel even better, the pleasure in the creases of his eyes and pull of his eyebrows helping get you off. There’s something about knowing how much he loves this, knowing how much he loves eating you specifically out that drives you insane, has your toes curling against his shoulders. He’d told you once, you can hear it in your head now in that low gravelly voice of his, that he was always very whatever about it, didn’t love or hate it, but would do it of course, until he met you, and now he loves it, craves it, wants to be doing it all the time, finds himself missing it at random moments during his days. 

Jack repeats his movements, groans and grunts into you as he alternates sucking and licking and tongue fucking you in different patterns right to the edge. It doesn’t take long. You’re close, already. And if he had more patience and wasn’t as painfully hard as he is he would back off, drag it out longer, edge you a bit. 

He sucks at your clit until it pops out of his mouth as he pulls his head away. “I want you to focus and feel, Doll. And keep your eyes on mine.”

You moan something that sounds like you’re trying to say ‘I am’ through your underwear. 

“No.” His voice is sharp, cuts through your pleasure haze, eyes blazing. “Focus and feel it.” You’re not sure what it means but you nod, you’ll do anything for him right now. 

Jack holds your gaze for another moment before glancing down at your cunt and sucking at your clit. He looks back up at you as he releases your clit and flicks his tongue over it with precise strokes that are just the right pressure to pull tears from your eyes because of the intensity of it all. He raises his eyebrows slightly, a reminder to focus and feel it. 

You do, ground yourself in Jack’s eyes as you look at him and focus and feel. It hits you. You take in a gasped shuddery breath, try to say ‘oh my god’ around your underwear but it just comes out as a moan and a sob. 

The strokes of his tongue against you aren’t just precise. They’re spelling out his name. He starts over when he knows you’ve got it. J a c k A b b o t M i n e M y W i f e. You’re almost hyperventilating it feels so good, is so possessive it augments the feeling of his tongue three-fold. Once he’s finished the final e of wife he starts over with a J and one hand leaves a hip. 

You’re so focused on Jack and his eyes that you don’t even see it about to happen, though you theoretically would be able to. Two fingers slide inside you, easily with how wet you are. Jack finds that spongy spot inside of you makes a rapid come hither motion and you’re gone. 

It shoves you over the edge, launches you over it really. The groans you’re pulling from Jack just from coming on his fingers as his tongue laps at you make your orgasm crash into you even harder. You knew you were close and it was going to hit you soon but it still catches you off guard. It’s blinding, you try so hard to keep your eyes open and give Jack the eye contact you know he wants, is demanding of you. But something has to give, you have to take one sense back from him. 

You sob out moans around your underwear, enjoy the freedom you have to not hold back for fear of being too loud in a hotel. You try saying his name around it, aren’t even fully conscious of it because of how fucked out of your mind you are, how little control you have over your body and mind right now. 

He starts to ease off and slows just when he needs to, right before the point of painful overstimulation. Because that’s not what he wants tonight. He just wants you to feel good. He laps at your pussy a few times to clean you up a bit and get a few last tastes of you. 

You whimper when he pulls away and stands up and looks down at you. You got so wet and so messy that almost the entire bottom half of his face is slick and shining with you. He smirks at you, licks his two fingers clean before bending down and grabbing your bra from the floor and uses the cups to wipe his face off. “You are,” it’s a little panted, “so delicious. I could do that forever. Live between your legs like that.” His words make you whimper again. 

Jack helps you sit up so he can clear the pillows away then lay you back on the bed. He walks around the side and pulls the comforter down and then moves you so that your feet and head face the side of the bed, not the headboard and end. “God, Doll.” You can hear him messing with his shirt, unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor, undershirt joining it a second later. “I could’ve come from just that. Just fucked my fist once or twice and lost it just from the way you taste and how pretty you sound when you come even all muffled and how hard you gripped my fingers.”

You moan at that, wish that you could see him getting undressed and talking about you like that. The clinking of metal tells you he’s undoing his belt, the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor a second or so later. Both pants and boxer briefs if you had to guess. 

It’s quiet for a second until you strain and hear the softest hum of skin rubbing skin. Jack’s stroking himself slowly, eyes roaming your body intently. You whine. You want him back, want him inside you. Need him inside you. 

“Need something, Doll?” Jack asks as he climbs on the bed and up your body so that he hovers over you. You blink hard at him and try to say ‘you.’ Jack uses a hand to wipe away some of the fresh tears that slip from your eyes. “Me? Just like this? So you can see since you can’t touch or speak?” You nod quickly and repeatedly, drop your shoulders and widen your eyes to say please. “Well,” Jack starts as he pulls away from you and moves to the side of your legs, “that’s not the plan baby.”

He flips you over so that you’re on your stomach, grabs your hips and pulls them up so that you’re on your knees. Even with your hands tied together like they are you’re still able to push the front half of your body up on your elbows a little. “I just really love having you from behind sometimes, you know?” Jack moves to kneel between your legs, runs a hand through your cunt and uses it to slick his cock before sliding it between your lips and running it through you, head nudging at your clit. “Love looking at your ass.” His hands grip your cheeks, squeeze a bit roughly. 

You’ve come back down enough now that your mind is a little less hazy and you have the wherewithal to moan as you move your hips back and forth in time with his as he slides through you. Jack laughs, pinches one of your ass cheeks. “Impatient girl.” A hand presses into your lower back to still you and a second later you feel Jack’s other hand helping line himself up. “That’s okay, I’m a little impatient right now too.”

Jack slowly pushes into you, a flurry of curse words falling off his tongue as he does, a long moan from you until he bottoms out. 

“We’ve barely started planning the wedding and I’m already impatient for you to be my wife.” Jack pulls out of you, right to the tip, hand still pressing into your lower back. “Impatient for you to have my last name.”

It’s slow at first, teasing the both of you really, long, patient strokes out of you followed by easing himself back in. It’s slow until it isn’t, because Jack doesn’t slowly build up to a faster pace. He just pulls out of you slowly again but snaps his hips to get himself inside of you quickly, sets an unrelenting pace, hands finding your hips and pulling you back onto him so he can fuck you harder with every thrust. 

“You’re already mine,” Jack grunts. “So fucking mine, god!” You feel so good, are so wet and tight for him and he is so impossibly deep in you that it makes it harder for him to say what he wants, thought starts to go. “Everyone knows from the fucking rock on your finger.” He keeps fucking you at the same pace, doesn’t slow down for a second. It shakes the bed, hard, and it’s the reason he put you sideways, so the headboard didn’t keep slamming against the wall and earn you a noise complaint. “Everyone knows you belong to me. Knows you’re mine.”

You’re reduced to tears and moans by his words, struggle to keep yourself up as your whole body shakes.

“I love fucking you like this. Can get so deep, fuck you so hard.” His hands find just above your hips and he pushes down, hard, but not hard enough to hurt. It tilts your pelvis even further for him, lets him get even deeper. “Can fuck my pussy. So. Fucking. Deep.” Each word is punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips.

You sob at it at the same time Jack growls your name. He has never fucked you this deep before, has never been quite this feral. You have no idea what’s set him off like this but you’d like to know so you can keep it in your back pocket. It’s the last semi-coherent thought you have. 

His pace grows frenetic, strokes just as hard and fast but not in the same regular rhythm they had been as Jack gets further drunk off you. Jack pulls out right before he’s about to come and you sob at the loss. You don’t have much time to think about it or be sad though because he’s flipping you over and leaning over you and thrusting back inside of you in seconds. He’s still though. 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he murmurs through a pant as he undoes the knot of the tie and unwraps your hands. “Taken it all so beautifully.” His praise makes you shiver as he removes your underwear from your mouth, makes the fire that’s taken over your body burn even hotter.

His hands take yours carefully and he kisses at some of the indented marks left by the tie before rubbing each hand and wrist out for a second. He wipes at your mouth after, helps remove the saliva that’s dripped out from having the gag in. You’re panting hard, punctuated by hiccupped breaths from your tears. “So good for me.” His thumb brushes over your lip and then he leans down and kisses you, presses his body into yours and slowly raises his hips to pull himself out of you. 

Your hands run up his neck and tangle in his hair. The relief that feeling the unfairly silky strands against your hands brings you is almost comical. It’s just his hair. Just running your hands through his hair. The kiss isn’t as long as either of you would like since you’re both panting pretty hard, already out of breath. “I mean it you know.” He nods, pushing back in slowly, just like he had earlier. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” 

“I know.” Your voice is raw. “I can’t wait to be your wife.” 

“Good,” Jack murmurs, presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I have a promise to keep.”

He’s straightening up and throwing your legs over his shoulders before you can process his words and try to think about what promise he’s talking about. And then Jack’s right back to fucking you. Hard. With a kind of nearly reckless abandon that’s driven by sheer need. 

“Jack!” You tug his hair hard and it just spurs him on, makes his hips move faster somehow. “Oh fuck, I’m, it’s too, you’re too…” You shake your head a little, don’t even know what you’re trying to say, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?” Jack pants out as he leans into you further, rolls your hips up more so he can get even deeper. “What Doll? Please what?”

“Any, anything!” You’re lost in the sensation of him. He’s all you have, all that exists to you right now. “I, I.” A little moaned sob leaves you as you give up trying, let your eyes flutter closed. 

Jack laughs darkly. “You’re so fucking-” Jack has to stop to groan when you somehow find it in you to rock your hips in time with him. He doesn’t remember what he was going to say. “Mine,” he growls at your ear. “You’re fucking mine.” Jack slips his hands below your shoulders, rests on his elbows and curls his fingers in your hair. He uses it as leverage to push you down onto him so he can fuck you even harder. He’s got you nearly pressed in half, your hips tilted so far up he’s snapping his hips and fucking nearly straight down into you. “Look at me.” 

“Jack, I, I, I can’t,” you stutter through a moan. “Can’t, I can’t.”

“Yes the fuck you can,” he growls. “I know you fucking can, Doll.” You force your eyes open, Jack coming into focus as your tears clear enough to really see him. You’re glad he made you open them because fuck does he look good. Jack is feral and possessive in a way you haven’t seen before and is fucking you harder than he ever has before and is somehow even deeper than in your last position. A few sweaty curls stick to his forehead, eyes absolutely wild, blown so wide you’d struggle to tell what color his irises are if you didn’t already know. His flushed face and neck are strained, veins more prominent than usual. 

And Jack is looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists to him in this moment. Like he’s so attracted to you that he can’t get enough of you. Like fucking you is a privilege. Like he needs you so bad it hurts. Like he’ll never have enough of you. Like he knows you’re his in every sense of the word. Like he knows how good he’s fucking you, cocky and proud.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs at you, all gravel and rasp. Every thrust steals your breath as it sends another wave of pleasure through you. It’s dizzying, how he’s making you feel physically and emotionally. He always makes you feel so wanted but it’s even more heightened right now. He’s desperate for you. You’re the only thing on his mind. “Whose are you?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find the word, panting out small sobs until it mercifully runs through your mind. “Y-yours Jack,” you cry, “yours!”

“That’s fucking right,” he growls again, leans his head into your neck and sucks hard. “And.” it’s harder for him to get words out too. Jack’s just as pussy drunk as you are cock drunk. “What are you gonna fu-fucking be?”

Your hands slide from his hair down to the side of his neck and back. Jack loves the sharp pain it brings, somewhere some part of him knows he’ll have scratch marks and bruises tomorrow. You’re a panting, sweaty mess beneath him. “I…” You’re so far gone you hardly know how to begin to even try to think to find the word. 

He sucks at your neck one last time and pulls back up. You haven’t answered him. “Eyes back on me,” he orders. You comply, eyes opening to find his again. “What’re you-” Jack groans as you squeeze him even tighter. “Fucking christ you’re so good, feel so fuckin’ good!” Jack’s derailed for a moment by his pleasure, the pleasure you’re giving him. But the promise comes back to him. “What’re you gonna be?” 

You’re all whimpers and whines as you open and close your mouth as you look for the word. Jack chuckles darkly. He starts to mouth the word at you and it hits. 

“Wife,” you moan, at the pleasure you’re feeling and the thought. “Your wife!”

“Fuck!” Jack snaps his hips even harder when you say it. He loves hearing you say it. “That’s right. My wife. My fucking wife. My fucking wife with her perfect fucking pussy that’s mine. You are fucking mine.” Jack starts to babble as he gets closer and closer. “Anything else to say Doll?” he chokes out through heavy pants. 

You shake your head, let out a sob. You need this. Need him, need to come, need to feel him come. “Jack!” Your nails dig into his back and neck. “Jack!” you moan again. It’s the only word your brain can come up with unprompted. 

“Good,” he grunts, panting hard as he shifts and slides a hand between you, circles at your clit. He doesn’t even mean to pull it from you that fast but you’re so close and so far fucking gone that it’s just a few swipes of his fingers and you’re coming, the pleasure searing every nerve. 

You’ll look back and know that it’s easily the hardest you’ve ever come, easily. You’re rendered totally breathless, completely lost to the pleasure flooding you. Jack’s right behind you, his orgasm catching him just as off guard as yours caught you. You get so tight around him, sound so beautiful in the seconds before you come and force yourself to keep your eyes open and look at him, teary and fucked out and like you know you belong to him, that he’s slamming into you, pulling his hand from your clit and grinding himself against you as he tries to prolong his release and yours. 

There are no words for either of you, both of you rendered completely speechless by the intensity of the orgasms ripping through you. Jack gets his voice back first, an absolutely strangled groan of your name from somewhere deep in his chest. It has to be one of the most erotic sounds you’ve ever heard him make. Your voice comes back shortly after, as do your tears because you are still so overwhelmed with pleasure and feelings and Jack. You moan his name over and over. 

Jack collapses on you carefully, so that his head is at your chest and your torso isn’t completely covered by his making it harder to breathe. He’s shaking just as badly as you are, both of your bodies have no idea what to do with all the pleasure. You’re both panting hard, still a bit lost in your minds to it. You trade off moaned and groaned fucks and oh gods and I love yous and each other’s names as you come back down, occasional aftershocks hitting you both and making you whine. He kisses at your chest wherever his lips happen to reach. 

Jack’s forcing himself to get back quicker. He has the instinctive drive to take care of you. You need him. That was a lot to take and you were properly sobbing. “Okay,” he finally pants out minutes later. “You are so fucking good, fuck me. You feel so good.” He pushes himself up so that he can lean down and give you some soft kisses to your lips and also your face, the bruise he sucked into your neck, your collarbones, the top of your breasts. “My good girl. So perfect and beautiful for me.” He gives you a few more kisses and then he forces himself to roll off you. 

“Jack?” you whimper. You miss him already, miss his body weight helping calm your shakes and his warmth and his smell. You’d stopped sobbing and Jack doesn’t want you to get teary again.

“Shh,” he soothes you, “it’s okay, I’m right here.” Jack sits up and pulls you into his arms before grabbing the comforter and sliding you both up the bed so he can hold you as he reclines on the headboard. You curl into his chest once he’s settled and strong arms pull the comforter over the both of you before slipping under it and wrapping around you tightly, putting pressure on you to help with the shakes. His are almost gone now. “You did so fucking well,” he murmurs through softening pants. “I love you.” He kisses the top of your head. “You were so good, I’m so proud of you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur, absolutely fucking glowing in his arms at the praise, smiling to yourself as you nuzzle his chest. If his arms weren’t wrapped so tightly around your body you think you’d be floating away from how good you feel.

Jack shifts, grabs a bottle of water from the nightstand and opens it. “Water, yeah? Please.” 

You whine at his request, but this one is playful, you’re back with him. “Don’t wanna move.” 

Jack laughs softly. “You barely have to, just lift your head a little, okay?” You huff a little but do as he asks and he holds the water for you, tips it carefully so that it doesn’t flow too fast for you and pulls away when you start to pull back. “Thank you Doll.” 

“Thank you,” you hum at him in response, settle your head back on his chest. “You’re so fucking good too, you know. I hope you know. I’ve never been fucked the way you fuck me.”

“Always. And I do know. Believe me, you make sure I fucking know.” Jack takes a couple of sips of his own before recapping the bottle and setting it on the table again. He holds you tight again, kisses the top of your head every now and then. “You doing okay, Doll?” 

“So, so much more than okay.” You realize with how raw your voice is and how you’re still shaking a little it’s not very reassuring. “My body just,” you take in a deep breath, “doesn’t know what to do, but I feel good. I feel amazing. That was so fucking good Jack, you felt so fucking good, made me feel so fucking good. I feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have just gotten fucked like that.” You sigh so dreamily it makes you giggle. 

“Good,” he murmurs, chuckles just a little from your last sentence and your giggles. He knows you’re okay and relaxes. “We’ll take a bath in a few minutes, yeah? You can go to the bathroom, have some more water for me. Maybe have a snack. And then I’ll massage you out a little, once we’re out of the bath, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that.” You kiss his chest because he’s the sweetest. 

“I do. I always need to take care of you after regardless of how hard or soft it is. But more than that I always want to, okay?” Jack kisses the top of your head. 

“I know. And I want to take care of you too.” You run a hand through his sweat damp curls, scratch at his scalp. Your shaking has stopped now. 

Jack’s head leans into your hand on instinct because of how good it feels. “You always do,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you Doll.”

“I love you too Peter.” He can feel your smile against his chest. “Kinda sleepy.” 

Jack lets out a little laugh through his nose. “I’m sure you are. I am too. Let’s get you into the bathroom, yeah? You can pee while I start the bath and then once we’re in you can even doze on me a bit if you want okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod a little and take in a deep breath before moving with Jack so that you’re both properly sitting up. 

He stands up and holds his hands out for you. You’re so blissed out you don’t even realize he’d left his prosthetic on. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” You grab his hands as you push off the bed and wow can you feel the soreness and stiffness already. And that’s on top of how your legs feel weak and shaky right now from how thoroughly you’ve just been fucked. You let out the softest groan of pain.

Jack catches it immediately, wraps his arm around you to help support you. “You okay?” You look up at Jack and nod, give him a smile. Because you are. You fucking love it. Love this feeling and how he takes care of you and lets you take care of him in the bath. Jack helps you into the bathroom and to the toilet while he starts the bath. 

As always, he pours in a copious amount of bubble bath gel. You’d told him once that bubble baths were your favorite and so he always tries to make sure there’s something for you. Bubbles or a bath bomb, you’d mentioned liking those once. This is the upscale expensive brand bubble bath that the hotel provides. You both enjoy the way it smells. 

“Peter?” you call to him from the small separate area where the toilet is. 

“What’s up? You okay?” Jack’s already moving towards you. 

“Can we have bubbles?” You support yourself on the wall and stand and flush as he comes into view. “I forgot to ask.” 

Jack gets an arm around you to help support you and smiles, kissing and nipping at the tip of your nose just so he can hear your fucked-out, sleepy laugh again. “You’ve got bubbles already waiting for you, Doll. You never need to ask. I’ve got you.”

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

It’s the day of your third anniversary. 

You and Jack didn’t abide by the whole not seeing each other or sleeping in the same bed the night before your wedding thing. You stir awake curled against Jack’s chest, nuzzling into him and intertwining your legs further as you settle back against his chest, not ready to fully wake up and open your eyes to the world. Jack’s hands start to rub up and down your back and you feel the vibrations of his low chuckle in his chest more than you hear it. 

“I think it’s time to get up, sleepy girl,” Jack hums at you. 

You shake your head against him lazily. “Don’t wanna leave this. You.”

Your voice is so sleepy and adorable Jack can hardly stand it. “You know what today is?”

“Mm,” you hum at him, make no effort to pull yourself further awake. “Saturday.” Jack scoffs a laugh and rolls his eyes affectionately even though you can’t see. You smile against his chest as he shakes his head. “Am I wrong?” 

“No,” Jack concedes, gives your ass a little pinch. That makes you jolt in his arms and yelp, not because it hurt because it surprised you. “But that’s not what I was looking for.”

“I can’t believe you just pinched my ass to wake me up on the morning of our third anniversary and wedding!” You don’t move an inch and Jack gets the answers he was looking for.

“I did not!” Jack huffs with a laugh. “You were already awake when I pinched you!” 

“The pedantism I’m facing at this hour of the morning is unreal,” you sigh dramatically. 

“Oh that was hardly pedantic, and you know it.” 

“I know no such thing. But,” you pause for effect and to kiss at Jack’s collarbone, nibble at it just a little. The reaction from him is immediate, hips canting just slightly against yours. You’ve felt how hard he’s been this entire time. “I do know that if we stop debating it you’ll have enough time to fuck me one last time as your fiancée. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Jack’s already rolling you onto your back before you even finish the word fiancée. “Say it again.” His voice is lower than normal, more grit to it than usual even for mornings. The thought is too much. He knew it of course, you kind of half did last night just in case you wouldn’t have time this morning but still. 

“Fuck me one last time as your fiancée Jack.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at the salt and pepper curls that are just a centimeter or so longer than when you met as Jack starts kissing at your neck, just kisses, just uses his lips to tease you and grinds up against you. “Fuck me one last time with this last name.” Jack stills at that. Obviously he knew your last name was changing but until you said it he hadn’t thought about it in this context. It makes him a little more feral somehow. He lifts his head from your neck and gazes down at you, eyes blown wide and panting a little. You can tell from his gaze that he’s about to, that he’s already there and thinking of ways he can go hard without risking marking you or making you unable to walk or making you cry and risk swollen eyes. 

“Jack,” you moan his name softly as you roll your hips as he grinds against you. “Fuck me one last time before my last name is Abbot.”

And so he does. 

Jack stands in front of his dress blues where they hang waiting for him to put them on. It’s hard not to think about it, about the last time he saw himself wearing these. At your funeral. And yes, it was just a nightmare, but still. He can’t help the little pang that hits him. You could have died. He’s so aware of it. He could be standing in front of them trying to force himself to get in them so he could get to your funeral. You could have died.

But you didn’t. You’re alive and off in your own room getting your hair and makeup done, slipping into your wedding dress. The thought makes him smile. Jack is wearing his dress blues to marry you, to start a new chapter with you, not to say goodbye to you. 

“You good?” Robby walks in before Jack can fully pull himself out of it. 

“Yeah,” Jack nods. “I’m more than good. I’m marrying her today.” Robby doesn’t say anything, waits to see if Jack has more to say. “In that nightmare, of her funeral, I wore my dress blues. And Michael, she is so fucking good and imperfectly perfect and so herself and she loves me so fucking much, with this intensity that I’m not sure I deserve that it feels like it’s too good to be true somedays, like she’s too good. Like this life with her is the dream and that nightmare is reality and I’m going to wake up any second in your guest bedroom without her and be back in that nightmare.”

Robby nods slowly, takes in a breath as he thinks. “Well,” he draws the word out in contemplation. “I can promise you this isn’t a dream Jack. You’re not waking up from this to the nightmare that life without her would be for you.”

“I know. And I don’t want to seem sad, because I’m not, I’m so far away from sad.” Jack pauses, gets a little quieter. “She’s everything, Michael. She’s the only thing I’ll ever need. And I’m marrying her today and it’s so fucking cliché but it feels too good to be true because what could I have ever done in any lifetime, let alone this one, to deserve her?” 

“I don’t think you’re sad Jack. I think you’re in love and about to get married and with everything you guys have been through I can understand why it’d throw you for a second.” Robby walks in the room a little closer to Jack and leans his back against the wall the closet is on so he can see Jack’s face. “But I know for a fact that she’s getting ready right now thinking, for reasons I may never personally understand,” he lets out a small laugh which Jack preemptively rolls his eyes at, “the same about you. That you’re too good to be true. That life with you is a dream or too good to be true. And knowing her how I do now, I’d be willing to hazard a guess that she’s probably not sure what she did to deserve you either, not sure she deserves you.” 

Jack finally pulls his eyes from his dress blues to look over at Robby. He doesn’t say anything though, voice just a little too thick with emotion. 

“And to that I have two things to say. One,” he holds out a finger of his left hand horizontally in front of him and wraps his right hand around it, “I love you both dearly, I really do, but you are both fucking idiots for thinking you don’t deserve each other and your love. And two,” he moves his right hand off his one finger and holds out a second that his right hand then wraps back around, “you do deserve each other and each other’s love. Why is she worthy of your love, but you’re not worthy of hers?” It’s a rhetorical question. “Because Jack, you say she’s everything and I know she is, I believe you. I see the way you look at her and hear the way you talk about her. But you are everything to her in the same way, the same capacity. She looks at you the same way, talks about you the same way. The way that you love her and feel about her and the intensity of your love for her, is exactly the same as how she loves you and feels about you and the intensity of her love for you.” Robby shakes his head a little and takes in a big breath before letting it out. “And she deserves you and your love, right?” Jack nods. “Well Jack, you deserve her love. And I think that today, on the day of your wedding, would be a really good day to let yourself accept that. That you deserve her and her love and to be loved at the same intensity with which you love her.”

It’s quiet as the two look at each other. Robby’s words hit Jack hard. He’s right. Jack hates admitting it but he’s right. All he can do is nod at Robby who gives him a little smile in return. After a second Jack clears his throat. “God Michael, our therapist is really rubbing off on you. How often are you seeing him? You thinking about leaving me to go become a psychologist?”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. He knows by the use of his real name that Jack’s thanking him in the only way he can right now. “He’s got jokes.”

Jack laughs with him but grows a little more serious. “Are you going to give her the same spiel?

Robby nods. “I can go right now and do it, see her in her-”

“No! Do not!” Jack cuts him off, Robby smirking and laughing. “You can talk to her through the door. Or have a dance with her or something later.”

“Whatever you want, brother. Get dressed.” Robby squeezes Jack’s shoulder as he walks by to step out of the room.  

Jack lingers on his hanging dress blues for just another second before taking them down and getting into them. Robby walks back in once he has his shirt and pants on, jacket still hanging. “For you.” Robby hands him a decently sized small box. 

“Aw, Robby, you shouldn’t have,” Jack teases him. 

Robby snorts. “I didn’t.” 

Jack’s eyebrows raise at that and he opens the box. Inside is another box, a recognizable box and in that box is a watch. He finds a small note. So you can’t be late to our forever. ;) I love you more, Doll. Jack lets out a little laugh to himself, shakes his head. He sets the boxes on the dresser in front of him and takes the watch out, puts it on. It fits perfectly without needing any links removed or added and he’s sure it’s because you measured his wrist during the night or when he fell asleep on the couch at some point. 

“Ready?” Robby is holding Jack’s coat open for him. Jack nods and slips it on, stands in front of the mirror while he buttons it to check it all looks okay. He makes sure to slide two handkerchiefs into one of his pockets. “I have the rings.” Robby touches where his inside pocket is. There’s a knock on the door. “I think that’s my cue.” Robby walks over to Jack and they share a hug. “I’m so happy for you Jack. I’ll send her in, yeah?” Jack nods and Robby starts walking over to the door. 

Not far away you’re in your own room getting ready. Even though you and Jack had decided not to have a bridal party, your dress shopping party is there with you, getting hair and makeup done too as they prefer, just for the experience and fun. 

Once you’re done you sit around chatting as Heather, Dana, Mel and your friend get theirs done. You laugh at something Dana says as Mel walks up and sits next to you. “I have something for you.” She hands you a box that’s six or seven inches in length, not overly thick. 

You take the box from her and smile. “Thank you Mel, that’s so sweet of you.” 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not from me.” You furrow your brows at her and give her a confused smile. “I think you should open it.” 

You give her one last confused look and then unwrap the box. It has a note on top. Something new. Love you more, Peter. You shake your head as you smile to yourself. You remember him asking on the way to your bridal shower. You hadn’t thought much of it since then, but had a moment or two where you kind of wished you could. At least now you’ll have one of the four. You set the note aside and open the box. “Oh my god, Jack,” you whisper to yourself as you take in the diamond tennis bracelet. The metal matches that of your engagement and wedding rings, diamonds the perfect shape. 

“Wow,” Mel laughs a little stunned as she takes in the bracelet with you. “It’s beautiful. Very sparkly.” 

“I love sparkly,” you murmur to yourself as you nod slowly, still a little stunned. You’re not surprised by it in the sense that it’s a very Jack thing to do, you’re just still in disbelief sometimes that you found Jack, think you probably don’t deserve someone as good as him. He did this for you. Got this for you. Just because he wanted to. 

“Want me to put it on?” Mel asks.

You glance up at Mel at her words. It takes a moment for them to process and then you nod. “Please.” She takes it carefully from the box and you hold your wrist up for her. She brings it over and gets it clasped and you shake your wrist a little to get it to settle. “Fuck,” you breathe out. It’s even more stunning on. 

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Heather smirks as she comes closer to take a look, Dana and your friend following. You all spend too long looking at it before you settle back in. 

Your friend is the next one to come sit by you. She hands you a box that’s a little bigger than a necklace box. “This one is not from your almost husband. It’s from me.” She raises her eyebrows at you and gives you a little smirk as you start to open it. Inside is the garter she’d helped you pick out one day, only in a light shade of blue. “Something blue.” 

“Thank you,” you tell her with a slightly trembling voice. You know she hand dyed it for you, took that time out of her busy schedule to do that for you. “It’s even more beautiful in blue,” you laugh. Your laugh draws attention and you quickly hold it up. “Pretty blue garter,” the three who work with Jack collectively make noises of fake disgust and gagging, “mhm, yep, that’s what I thought.” You all share a laugh. 

You smile at Heather when she comes to sit by you. “Old or borrowed?” You ask with a smirk and raised brows. 

She’s smiling as she offers you what is a necklace box. “I’m not sure if it really counts as old,” she says as you open it, “so I have a backup just in case.” You raise your brows at her as you take the lid off. Inside is a larger cameo locket with a humming bird on it. It’s beautiful in its simplicity. “Open it. Also I didn’t envision you wearing it, I thought maybe you could wrap the chain around your bouquet, have the locket in the front or back depending on what you think.” 

You carefully take it out of the box and open it. Inside is a locket sized photo of you and Jack. “Oh my god,” you whisper. “That’s the first photo Jack and I ever took together.” You look up at Heather glassy eyed. “How?”

“Remember when we went to that cocktail bar a month or so ago and I happened to bring up photos in conversation and steered it towards first photos of all the couples. You showed me your guys’ while Dana was showing you the one of her and her husband she’d taken a picture of on her phone. I was able to air drop it to myself before giving your phone back. I took a little advantage of you being a little tipsy.” She shrugs, but you both laugh. You’re back to looking at the photo of you and Jack, running your finger down the edge of the locket. “I found the locket itself at an antique store. Hummingbirds are a symbol of resilience because of how resilient they are. And with everything that you guys have already survived together, resilience felt right for the two of you.” 

“Heather,” you breathe shakily, as you look back to her, lips pressed in a line but pulled up in a smile that says you’re trying not to cry. “This is incredible. Thank you.”

“That’s so fuckin sweet,” Dana dabs at her eyes. It’s then you realize her, Mel and your friend have gotten close. You pass the locket around so they can all see the photo. “You’re making us all look bad Heather!”

Heather laughs and shrugs. “Idea just came to me.” You smile at her again and reach out and squeeze her hand, nodding at her in thanks again. 

“Well, I suppose cat’s outta the bag that I’m borrowed.” Dana walks over to her purse and grabs a small ring box from it and hands it to you. You open it to reveal a beautiful art deco style ring inlaid with diamonds. “I know it’s a very particular style, but that ring has been worn by every Evans woman who has gotten married for the last hundred and two years. Not a single divorce.” 

“Oh Dana, it’s beautiful.” You look up at her. “But I’m not an Evans and I wouldn’t want to risk messing up it’s ma-” 

“No.” Dana cuts you off with a ‘please’ look. “None of that bullshit. You are an Evans. So is Jack. Even if not in name.” You look back down at the ring and then up at her, round eyes and eyebrows slightly furrowed, a silent ‘really?’ “I brought ring sizers just in case it doesn’t fit on a finger on your right hand. We can make it work.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper when she gets closer, swallowing thickly. “It means more than you know.” Dana doesn’t say anything back, just smiles as she helps you try on the ring. It fits perfectly on your right ring finger, your engagement ring sitting above it for now until after the ceremony. Once you have the ring on and the locket around your bouquet, you set your garter on the bed to put on before your dress. “There we go. Something old something new something borrowed something blue. He made it happen. That man.” You laugh a little to yourself as do the others. 

“So,” Mel clears her throat, “the rhyme actually ends with ‘and a sixpence in her shoe.’ I wasn’t really sure if you’d want to do that or if someone else would get one, so I got one just in case. It goes in the left shoe” Mel holds it up. “I brought some quick set epoxy if you wanted to glue it to the bottom of your shoe if it’s heeled and has a spot that won’t hit the ground, or it has a small hole and can become like a charm or even get sewn onto the shoe. Or you can put it somewhere else. If you want.” She smiles at you. “But totally cool if you don’t.” 

“No no, we have to have the full rhyme!” You cock your head at her and smile. “It’s perfect Mel. Thank you so much.” You walk over and grab your shoes. “Help me get it on my left shoe somewhere?” Mel nods and the two of you step over to the desk to survey your options and decide how best to do it while everyone else finishes up. “Thank you Mel. I would have been so annoyed if I found out we didn’t do the entire thing after,” you laugh. 

“I thought you might be,” she laughs with you. “I’m glad it worked out.” By the time you and Mel turn back to the group everyone is finished with hair and makeup.

“All right, we’ll head out and let you get dressed.” Heather gives you a knowing smile and walks over to hug you tight, followed by Mel and your friend, each of them congratulating you and saying how happy they are for you and Jack before walking out.

The door closes and it’s just you and Dana now. She was the only one who went to any of your fittings with you, so she’s the only one to see you in the dress with it fitted properly. It doesn’t take long to get you in it, all things considered, and your accessories don’t take too long either. 

Dana steps back to survey you for a few seconds before you turn to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress still makes you feel like it did when you first bought it. It makes you feel good, makes you feel how Jack makes you feel when he looks at you. Special and beautiful. And this is it. You’re in your dress for real this time. All of your accessories on, hair and makeup done, shoes on. You’re going to go walk down the aisle to Jack in not more than ten minutes.   

“You look beautiful, kid.” Dana’s eyes are a little glassy as you look at each other through the mirror. “I’m really happy for you guys. You are so so good for him. I’ve never seen him so happy, and I’ve known him a long time.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving her a tight smile and tilting your head back a little trying to stop any tears from forming. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to cry yet.” 

Dana laughs. “It’s okay. If you’re all good I’m going to head to my seat.”

You nod. “Thank you. I mean it Dana. We’re lucky to have you.” She gives you one of her smiles and nods, goes to turn. “You should go see Jack. Before you sit down.” Dana’s eyebrows furrow as she turns back to look at you. “Promise me you’ll go.” Her eyes narrow in suspicion a little but she nods and walks out. 

She knocks when she reaches Jack’s room. “There you are.” Robby smiles at her as he opens the door. “You look very lovely.”

Dana gives him a suspicious look. “Thanks. You don’t clean up top bad yourself Cap. Is there a reason I’m here?”

Robby nods and she walks in the room. “He’ll explain. I’ll see you out there.” He gives her a last smile before exiting the room, the door closing behind him. 

“Jack?” Dana calls out as she moves further in the room. He smiles at her as he walks out from the bathroom, fully dressed and ready. “Wow,” Dana lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight?” She walks over to him and gives him a hug, a kiss on the cheek. 

“You look pretty damn good yourself,” Jack tells her.

She waves him off. “You look very handsome. She’s gonna cry. And you’re definitely gonna cry when you see her.” She rubs in that she’s seen you just a little, earns the smallest eye roll from Jack. “You need something? Your bride got all mysterious on me, ‘promise me you’ll go see Jack’ and then Robby answers the door grinning like an idiot and offering no explanations.”

Jack shrugs at her, smiling like he knows something she doesn’t and that’s going to make her react. “I need someone to walk me down the aisle.” 

Dana’s head lolls forward a little, eyebrows raising as she stares at Jack. “I thought you guys weren’t doing that.”

Jack shakes his head. “She decided not to have anyone walk her down the aisle. I never decided I wouldn’t have anyone.” Dana’s still looking at him in disbelief. “I want someone to. And who better to do so than the second most important woman in my life?” Dana’s eyes get watery and she cocks her head at Jack, silent because she’ll cry if she tries to speak. “You know I mean that and that it’s true,” Jack tells her softly. 

Dana nods at him. “Jack, I…” She fans at her face and grabs a tissue from the nearby box, dabs at her eyes. “You’re pretty important to me too, you know that?” She whispers as she wraps him in another hug. He laughs softly and nods. “I’m so happy for you Jack. For both of you. She’s everything you’ve ever deserved. I’m so glad you found your one.” Dana sniffles and finishes wiping at her eyes. “I’d be very proud to walk you down the aisle.” 

Jack offers Dana his arm and she takes it, the two of them leaving the room and heading to the ceremony space. Robby is waiting for them in the staging space that’s hidden off to the side of the top of the aisle. The three share a look and Robby cues who he needs to so that the music starts. 

Robby walks down first, takes his place at the top of the altar facing the audience, padfolio with his notes in hand. The music changes slightly and Dana and Jack start walking down the aisle. The change in the music is also your cue to wait ten seconds or so and then go to the staging area yourself and wait for your music to hit. 

There are murmurs of approval and appreciation and hums of aw as Dana and Jack walk down the aisle. The only people who have seen Jack in his dress blues before are those who were in his unit. For everyone else, your friends, all of the Pitt family, it’s the first time. He looks good in them, of that there is no question. 

When they hit the end of the aisle Dana rests her cheek against Jack’s and gives him a little cheek kiss as they hug again. “I’m so proud of you Jack. And so, so happy for you,” she whispers to him. “You deserve this, yeah. The both of you do.” 

“Thank you, Dana.” Jack rubs her back a little. “You have no idea how much we appreciate you and everything you’ve done for us. And for me over the years.” 

She nods at him as she pulls away and takes her seat right on the aisle of one side of the front row. Jack walks up the altar and shares a handshake and quick hug with Robby before he settles just in front of him, turning to face the top of the aisle. 

Jack looks around at everyone who came. The ceremony space is completely full. It’s small, but big enough, an intimate ceremony of just you and your closest friends and family. Neither of you wanted something huge. All of Jack’s unit minus one are there with their significant others if they have one, your friend and a few of your closest work friends and what feels like most of the Pitt and their significant others where applicable, plus Dana’s kids, Langdon’s kids, Harrison, Becca and Jake. 

In his mind he notes that it feels like entire damn department is here and he can’t help but wonder who the fuck is staffing it right now. Jack is actually able to smile to himself at the thought despite the small pang. He thought the same exact thing to himself in that nightmare. But this time while it still doesn’t really matter and he doesn’t really care because he’s here with you getting married, he will be going back to that hospital. He lets himself wonder about it more, wonder if Robby somehow pulled off getting nearly an entire moonlighter crew so everyone could be here. 

Jack can’t believe it’s finally time, that he finally gets to see you in your wedding dress and marry you. His heart races and he breathes a little faster and harder in anticipation. He’s sure that if he didn’t have one hand clasping the back of the other and hanging down in front of him they’d be shaking.  

Your photographers get into position so that photos can be captured of both you and Jack seeing each other for the first time. They stay as inconspicuous and as out of the way as possible. 

In the staging area at the top of the aisle your heart is racing just as fast as Jack’s if not a little faster because you still have to walk down the aisle, by yourself, with all eyes on you and not trip or fall or otherwise stumble. And you can’t help the thought of what if he hates my dress from running around your brain. Your bouquet shakes as you hold it with one hand, smooth out your dress with the other as you wait for the music. 

You force yourself to take a couple of deep breaths and pull it together. You know really the anxiety is more eagerness than anything. You just want to be married already, want to be kissing Jack and in his arms and crying about how much you love him. You can’t believe the day is finally here. You remember you get to see him in his dress blues for the first time now and it helps you focus and smile.

The music you’ve chosen to walk down the aisle to starts and you hear Robby ask everyone to stand. You hold your bouquet with both hands low in front of you and take in one last deep breath before you round the corner and hit the top of the aisle. 

Seeing each other for the first time is quickly etched into your memories. Neither of you will ever forget the moment, forget the way you struggled to breathe for a second or how everything and everyone else seemed to fade away. 

Jack’s breath catches in his throat when he sees you, a beaming smile pulling on his face and tears hitting him immediately. “Oh my god,” he breathes out quietly for only Robby to hear as he shakes his head at you a little in disbelief, his first tears of the ceremony starting to stream down his face. 

While everyone is looking at you Jack brings a hand up to his heart and lays it flat over it for a second before closing it into a fist and nodding at you a little. He grabs one of the handkerchiefs from his pocket to wipe at his tears as Robby squeezes his shoulder silently. 

Jack tried to imagine your dress, what it would look like, what you would look like in it and he never got anywhere close. You look perfect in it, more beautiful and stunning than Jack could have ever hoped to imagine. Your dress fits you perfectly, both in fit and in personality. It matches you, your personality and energy, complements your natural beauty without overtaking you. The dress, while gorgeous, isn’t the focus. The focus is you, just as it should be, he thinks. 

You’re a vision as you walk towards him, radiant and ethereal and breathtaking. And somehow you’re his. His girl, his woman. You’re about to be his wife and Jack doesn’t know how he got so fucking lucky. He sniffles as more tears fall that he was to wipe away. 

You have to remind yourself to breathe as you start walking, because Jack steals all the air from you as soon as you look at him. Your eyes glance at the path in front of you and then back to him because you just can’t look anywhere else. You suddenly don’t care if you trip or stumble or fall because you weren’t looking where you were walking, taking in Jack, looking at him and returning his gaze is worth the risk. You return his beaming smile, your eyes tearing up just as his do. 

He’s so handsome. He always is but him in his dress blues on your wedding day is a different type of handsome. He almost looks regal in a sense with how perfectly they fit him and how sharply pressed they are, highlighting his chiseled features. He’s breathtaking, truly. And somehow he’s yours. Your man, your Jack. He’s about to be your husband. The thought makes you laugh to yourself a little as your first tears of the ceremony spill over and onto your cheeks. 

Jack looks at you like you’re the last sight he ever needs to see to die a happy man as you walk towards him, like you’re the only thing that exists in the world right now and the most precious and beautiful thing that exists. Because you are. And you look at him the exact same way, like you’re walking towards your future and the only thing that matters. Because he is. 

The two of you beam at each other even harder as you walk closer and closer to him. Your eyes roam each other more the closer you get, just for a few seconds to take in more details before you look back into the other’s eyes. 

As you reach the end of the aisle you slip your bouquet to Dana and take the hand Jack offers you. “Please be seated.” Robby nods at the audience. 

“Worth the wait I hope?” you whisper to Jack as you stand across from him and face him, voice trembling and more tears sliding down your face.

“You’re,” Jack shakes his head, struggling to come up with any words that could even begin to describe how stunning you look right now. He has to settle for simple. “You’re beautiful, Doll.” You know what he means, know that beautiful means what it always does but that there’s an extra indescribable edge to it right now. You know because it’s how you feel about him. “Gorgeous. There aren’t words,” he whispers to you. 

“That’s how I feel, there aren’t words for you either.” The smile you give him is a little trembly as a fresh wave of overwhelming love hits you. “You’re so handsome, Jack. Unfairly so.” And just like beautiful, handsome also has that edge that Jack recognizes. 

He laughs a little and then Jack can’t help himself. He captures your chin with his thumb and index finger and leans in, steals a kiss from you. It’s your last kiss before you’re married.

“You skipped a couple of steps there, brother,” Robby teases Jack as the two of you settle back in your respective positions facing each other, eliciting a soft laugh from the audience. 

You hold one of Jack’s hands and use the other to wipe at the tears on your face, a mix of yours and Jack’s now. Jack drops your hand for a moment to switch his handkerchief to his other hand so he can reach into his pocket and pull out the second handkerchief. 

It makes you laugh when you take it from him, more tears slip down your face. “Always so prepared.”

“I try.” He smiles at you and wipes away more of his own tears as you do the same before you grab each other’s hands again, one pair of hands less held than the other as you both hang onto handkerchiefs. 

You both know there’s going to be a lot of tears during this ceremony for the two of you and that getting your vows out is going to be difficult. Everyone knows it. Because it’s not just that this is your wedding and you’re so in love and finally getting married. It’s because it almost didn’t happen. Because you’re both so acutely aware of how precious time and your love is. Because Jack was almost planning your funeral and not helping you plan your wedding.  

“Are we all ready now?” Robby smiles, asking not just you and Jack but also your guests. It pulls laughs, and excited calls of yes and it’s about time and finally. It’s perfect, it’s the atmosphere you and Jack wanted. You didn’t want stuffy or overly formal. You wanted it to reflect the two of you and Robby’s question has set the perfect tone. 

“More than,” you laugh softly, squeezing Jack’s hands. 

“More than,” Jack agrees, beaming at you and laughing a little as he returns your squeeze. 

“Great! Well, welcome everybody to what I know will be an emotional but incredibly joyous and fun wedding. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Robby, or Michael, when Jack is mad at me, and I’m their favorite third wheel.” Robby gives a self-satisfied smile as he says it, and you, Jack and the audience all laugh. It’s true. 

“Their love story has not been the easiest. Before they were even engaged they faced challenges most couples, married or otherwise, never have to. And hopefully they’ll never have to again. I also want to say quickly that I got their permission to talk about what happened. I'm not just up here bringing up one of the most traumatic and difficult times of both of their lives individually and their life as a couple.” There’s more laughter from everyone at that. 

As much as you and Jack truly are paying attention to what Robby says, your eyes aren’t coming off one another. For the most part it’s all eye contact, just how Jack loves, but sometimes you both let your eyes wander to take in the other more, you eyes dragging down Jack to appreciate him in his dress blues again and his roaming you to take in you in your dress and every detail of it. 

“God knows they’ve had too much practice but something that stands out about their love to me is their ability to weather their worst days together. It’s one thing to stand next to each other and survive on the best days, when things are great and easy and another to stand next to each other and survive on the worst days, when things truly probably couldn’t get any worse and qualify as one of the worst days of their lives. And I truly mean weathering their worst days together because they’re always there for each other.” Robby takes a moment to let the words linger and glances down at his notes. 

“People say that relationships and love aren’t always 50-50. That sometimes one person is at 10% and so, in the best relationships, the other is at 90%. And that’s them.” He nods as he says it and there’s a few murmurs of agreement from the audience.

“They have this constant give and take, this way of adapting for the other. And if one of them is at 10% and the other falls even lower, to 5%, they’re both able to set their struggle aside for the moment and immediately be at 95% for the other. They never let the other be alone in their struggles or in their joy.” Robby pauses for a second, has to clear his throat, the emotion clearly starting to get to him. “It’s quite incredible to watch.”

Robby shifts his attention to address you and Jack directly. “I am so incredibly happy for the both of you. I have never met two individuals who deserve this happiness and love and life together more. I love you both very much,” his voice trembles a little as he says it, “and I wish you nothing but a lifetime of adventure, laughter, peace, joy and love.” 

You both look up at Robby as he says it. His eyes are glassy, and wet with unshed tears that are threatening to spill over. Jack nods at him, the two sharing a knowing smile. When Robby’s attention shifts to you, you mouth ‘we love you too’ and a few of those unshed tears slip down his cheeks.  

“I’m going to share two moments, my favorite moment that I’ve had with each of you that’s really kind of about the other one of you and then I’ll move this along, I promise.” Robby sniffles, wipes quickly at his eyes and takes a deep breath. You and Jack look back at each other and raise your eyebrows as you both grin in anticipation. You both correctly know you’re about to hear a story you’ve never heard before.

“I’ll start with you Jack. Years ago now, there was a really bad day at work and you and I were walking out into the darkness. You said something about preferring working nights and I asked if you were sick of working them yet and you said that your therapist thought you found comfort in the darkness.” You laugh softly at that, as does the audience. It sounds like Jack. 

“So fast forward two years and we’re walking out of the Pitt together one day as you’re getting off, you know actually it must have been three years and four or five days ago because it was a couple of days before your first anniversary. I asked you if you could cover a shift, fully expecting a yes. I was asking but I was so positive you’d say yes because you’re Jack and you always said yes to working. But you said no.” Robby pulls his mouth together in a grimace and nods at the audience to pull a few laughs. 

“No because it was your first anniversary together. And then,” Robby laughs to himself a little and cocks his head for a second, “like you’re just saying the sky is blue and not about to rock my entire world you said, ‘also, I’m switching to days, it’s better for us.’ I was honestly impressed with myself that I processed that news fast enough to call out a question to you before you were too far away to hear. I yelled at you, ‘I thought you found comfort in the darkness?’ and you turned around and looked at your phone which was definitely a photo of you by that point and smiled as you yelled back ‘guess I find it somewhere else now.’” A soft chorus of ‘aww’ rings through the audience. 

You tilt your head at Jack, chin trembling as your lips press together in a tight smile as you try and keep it together, silently asking him ‘really’ as your eyebrows draw together. Jack’s smile softens, eyes looking at you fondly, almost nostalgically and he squeezes your hands. He gives you a few small nods and your tears return.

“And I knew as I walked back into the Pitt, yes to go straight to Dana to tell her,” everyone laughs loudly at that, including you, Jack and Robby, “that even if you hadn’t told me yet, you were already planning a proposal. Sure enough, a couple of days later you told me you were going to propose, not sure when or how or where yet, but she’s it. She’s the one. ‘She’s my forever,’ I believe are the exact words.”

“Oh Jack,” you whisper just loud enough for him and him alone to hear, more tears falling. You wish that you could hug and kiss him and thank him for making you feel so loved all the time. Because he does and in the moment, hearing that story it’s overwhelming. You’re not sure how you’ll survive his vows. Your hands squeeze his before you drop one and use the handkerchief he gave you to dab at your eyes again and blot up the tears that have already wet your face. Jack remembers that conversation well, remembers how that smile at the end that Robby mentioned lasted his entire walk home. And somehow, he realizes, he loves you even more in this moment than he did then. 

Robby glances at you with a little conspiratorial smile. “And you. Just under two years ago, you and I were sitting in your hospital room talking. It was truly just you and I because Jack was showering. You’d been out of your coma for just shy of two days so we’d really known each other and had the opportunity to talk for five-ish days or so I wanna say. So we’re talking and you ask me to go to the grocery store for you. I said ‘sure of course, just make me a list.’” Robby nods a little as he remembers while he speaks.

“I give you my little notepad and a pen and it took you maybe five minutes to write down this fairly long grocery list. I remember thinking it was great that you had all these things you wanted and had an appetite and us having a battle about me taking your card to pay for things but anyway I take the list and after my shift I go, don’t think much of it.” He shrugs, glances at you and then the audience. You already know what’s coming and you know that you never told Jack.  

“I get to the store and start shopping and realize two things. First, that the list isn’t quite as long as I initially thought because you’d written brand names and specific flavors for things. And second,” he pauses to laugh a little, “every single thing on that list was one of Jack’s favorite things. Every single thing, I swear to god.”

Robby’s nodding at Jack, not that Jack sees it. He’s far too focused on you, asking you a ‘really’ with his eyes the same way you did, tears threatening to wet his face and a wobbly smile. And just like him you give him a few nods, squeeze his hands. 

“So I call you and you answer and said ‘hey if you’re looking for Jack he’s down getting the dinner delivery he ordered so he might not be able to answer.’ And I’m like ‘no I’m looking for you. I’m at the store and this list is all for Jack. Is there anything you want?’ You tell me ‘No, I put what matters and what we need on it.’” Robby glances at you, smiles at the way you’re looking at Jack.   

“I press you, ‘okay but are you sure?’ You said ‘Robby, please. He’s not eating enough here and it’s not healthy for him. He can’t eat big meals right now, he just picks at everything and you and I both know him and know he’s a snacker, a grazer. But he doesn’t have any snacks here. So he’s not really eating. Please. The list is what we need. What I need.’” 

Jack’s hands squeeze yours again, harder this time as ‘what I need’ echoes in his mind and tears slide down his face. You were focused on him during that time, you were watching him and taking care of him without him knowing it. It’s so you and he could almost drown in it, your love for him. “Doll,” it’s whispered, barely audible to you with how his voice cracks over it, hand dropping yours to wipe away his tears. Your heart aches in the moment from how much you love him. Like Jack you remember this story fairly well despite your health status at the time because it was the first super personal conversation you had with Robby. You can remember the genuine anxiety you had at the time because Jack wasn’t eating enough and it scared you. And also like Jack, somehow, you realize, you love him even more in this moment than you did then. 

“We hung up and it really sank in as I walked around shopping. You were just shot, had multiple major surgeries, a skull fracture, you had been out of a coma for less than 48 hours and you’re worried about Jack.” Robby shakes his head and lets out a small incredulous laugh. “You’re noticing Jack not eating enough and that he’s not eating big meals and remembering that he’s a snacker. You’re still pretty heavily medicated and you’re pulling out brand names and flavors of Jack’s favorite things. That’s when I knew if he asked you’d say yes and, selfishly in a way, it’s when I was convinced that you were the one for him and when I knew I wanted him to ask you.” All three of you, and probably close to the whole damn audience, have to take a second to clean up your tears.

“And so here we are today. At your wedding. You were two strangers in a bookstore. There was nothing between you. But from that nothing you slowly forged what has to be the most beautiful and profound love I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.” Robby’s voice wobbles and he pauses for a second, lets out a breath. 

“These two have decided to write their own vows, so get your tissues ready, I’m sure.” After deciding on personal vows you and Jack had decided to end them with five promises to each other. “Jack, we’ll start with you.”

Jack takes in a deep breath and drops one of your hands so that he can grab his vows from his pocket. 

He starts with your name, squeezing your hand that he’s still holding. “I’m going to start with some honesty,” he gives you a little smile. “I struggled to write these. Not because I couldn’t think of what to say but because there’s too much to say, there’s too much I want to tell you and promise you, too much you deserve to hear. And I could stand here and talk for hours and say all the words and it would never be enough to tell you how much I love you, how deep my love for you runs or how embedded in my soul you, and my love for you and your love for me is.” You start to cry because you know how much he means it and because you get it, feel the exact same way. 

“Doll, you are easily the biggest overthinker I know,” he laughs a little as he says it, smiling at you while you and the audience also laugh. He glances down at his vows before looking into your eyes again. He did his best to memorize them so that he can look you in your eyes as he speaks his vows to you. “And I say that with all the love in the world, I truly do, because I know it means that you have thought of every single reason not to love me or marry me and yet here you are. Loving me. Marrying me. You jumped head first and with your eyes wide open into loving me and you’ll never know what it means to me to have that kind of pure acceptance,” Jack’s voice trembles, “and to know that you’ve seen every bad part of me, every flaw and imperfection and have overthought it all and that you,” he has to stop as his voice breaks and he sucks in a shuddery breath to stifle the smallest sob. He just barely clears his throat, like he knows that he’s going to have to choke out his next line and pause after it regardless of how much he tries to prepare now. “And that you accept it all and choose to love me despite all my flaws and imperfections.” It almost sounds whispered with how raw and hoarse his voice is as he says it, but everyone hears it. Jack sniffles, drops your hand and takes a few seconds to wipe the tears from his face and collect himself before taking your hand again and continuing.

“You truly have no idea just how much you save me every day, heal a little piece of me with every smile and kiss and ‘Peter.’ You’re my comfort,” he tilts his head and gives you a lopsided grin that meets his eyes hard as he echoes what he told Robby two years ago, this time straight to you with tears flowing down both of your cheeks, “my salvation and my strength. You’re my home and my world. I told you once that you’re my best everything and I mean it. You are my best everything. You are the greatest and best part of me. I love you more than I know what to do with or how to show you.” You dab at your eyes almost continuously with your free hand, Jack’s words searing themselves into your brain and heart, especially with how he’s looking straight into your soul through your eyes as he talks to you. 

“And of all the things I might accomplish in this life,” Jack sniffles and clears his throat so his voice is a little stronger again, “the only thing I care to be remembered for is being your husband and being lucky enough to love you and be loved by you.” You cover your mouth with your handkerchief at that and stifle your own small sob while you squeeze Jack’s hand, hoping he understands that you’re saying the same is true for you. He knows. He always knows. 

Jack glances down at his vows again and straight back up to you. “So I promise to be honest, to be loyal and faithful and always have your back as your biggest supporter and your greatest source of encouragement. I promise I will always be here for you, that I will always be your refuge. I promise to always fight for you and for us. I promise to never take you or your love for granted and to always remember just how lucky I am to be able to call you mine.” He pauses to smile at you, tilt his head and squeeze your hand to emphasize the last one before he says it. “And I promise to love you with all of me through anything and everything life might throw our way.” 

It’s hard to resist the urge you have to hug him and kiss him and hold him close for five minutes straight while you both just cry tears of love and happiness into each other. Because you want to. You’ve never felt more loved or moved in your life. It’s almost difficult to comprehend in a way, that those words were just spoken by the love of your life to you. That someone feels that way about you and loves you this much. You’re not sure you deserve it but you take it in as best you can while he puts his vows away and wipes at his face. And Jack feels it too, that urge to hug you and kiss you and try to show you how much he loves you because he knows his words, while clearly impactful, fell far short of expressing his love for you. Like he said, he could never truly tell you what you mean to him and how much he loves you because the words don’t exist.

It’s quiet once Jack finishes, only sniffles from everyone present filling the air for a moment. Robby reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, your vows that you’d given him to hold onto for you this morning. “And now you,” he says softly, giving you a supportive nod as the two of you share a look while you take your vows from him. 

“Oh man, this feels so unfair, I can barely see through the tears.” You sniffle a soft laugh the audience joins you in, handkerchief at your eyes trying to soak up all the tears. You take in a deep breath before opening your folded vows and looking back up into Jack’s eyes. “Jack,” you start, “I love you.” You let out a small laugh because it’s such a simple way to open, glance down at your vows. Like Jack you’d memorized them to the best of your ability so you can look him in the eyes.  

“I swear this next part is written down,” you wave your vows at him and then the audience. “Writing these was much harder than I thought it was going to be,” you tilt your head and give him a look, “not because I couldn’t think of anything to say to you but because what do you tell the person that’s everything to you? I couldn’t figure out how to distill how I feel about you and how much I love you into words, and I still haven’t because nothing I say will ever be enough to even scratch the surface of how much I love you and what you mean to me.” Your voice catches thick in your throat as you shake your head a little at him while you speak, eyes narrowing slightly to emphasize your words.

“The thing about you Peter, is that you see me, all of me, to an extent I didn’t think was possible. You always use that x-ray vision they pulled you aside to teach you in your last year of med school,” you laugh a little as you say it and Jack lets out a short but proper laugh at your words because they’re unexpected and of course you would remember that, “to see right through me and know how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. There is nothing that makes me feel more loved than when you take a single look at me and know exactly what I need without me speaking a single word. And when we’re together that’s an hourly occurrence.” You blot at your eyes again quickly and glance at your vows before finding Jack’s eyes again and continuing.

“You take what you see and you use it. Use it to love me and take care of me and heal me, even if you don’t consciously realize it. I’ve come to realize that you know me better than myself because you see me more than I see myself. And you always, without fail, see the best in me even when I show you the worst of me.” You take in a deep, shuddery breath as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “I am quite sure that has to be love in one of its simplest and purest forms. And that’s how you love me. I couldn’t be luckier.” Your voice is so thick and heavy with your tears you worry that you’re getting to be unintelligible but Jack’s reaction, the fast run of big tears and his trembling lip, and the increase in sniffles you hear from the audience make it clear everyone heard. 

Your gaze intensifies, eyes boring into Jack’s. “You’re my whole world and my entire heart. My rock and my constant. My biggest supporter and my protector. You’re everything. You are my everything and everything to me, Jack.” Your voice breaks on his name but you don’t clear your throat. You let it be raw and higher pitched as you finish. “Please never forget that.” Jack shakes his head slightly and squeezes your hand to tell you that he won’t and lets out the quietest choked sob, handkerchief damp with his tears just like yours with yours. His heart aches now with your love for him.

You clear your throat, take another shuddery deep breath and collect yourself. “I promise to always be your best student in medicine and otherwise, to never stop learning about you or how best to love you. I promise to never stop trying, to never give up on you or on us. I promise you my faithfulness, my honesty and my loyalty and my unwavering support in everything and to always be your safe space where you never have to hide. I promise to love you all the time, especially in the moments you’re struggling to love yourself. And I promise to never stop falling more in love with you.” 

Again, Jack fights the urge to hug and kiss and be close to you that you both fought after he made his vows to you. He’s never felt more loved, never felt so good. He struggles to comprehend it too, that someone loves him as much as you do, needs him the way you do. But you do and he knows it and he beams at you as you both wipe your tears. He takes your vows from you and folds them, slips them in his pocket next to his. You squeeze each other’s hand again, and you do your best to let it take the place of the hug and kiss you’re desperate to give him. You know you have a whole life to hug and kiss him as you please and that you’re going to feel this same overwhelming love in both directions in a few minutes when Robby says you can finally kiss. In this moment you just hope Jack has a fraction of a clue of how much you love him and need him and looking at him and seeing how he looks at you, you’re pretty sure he does.

“Well,” Robby says quietly. “I think we all need a moment after those.” Sniffled laughter rings out from the audience as Robby does give everyone a moment to dry their eyes and collect themselves. Even you and Jack both manage to get your tears to stop, if only for a little. “I’ll now ask you both to affirm your vows and declare your intent.” 

Robby turns to Jack first. “Jack, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Jack’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists as he says the words clear and strong, not a hint of hesitation to be found anywhere. 

“And do you,” Robby’s attention turns to you as he says your name, “take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” You beam at Jack as you say it and you’ve never exuded such confidence. You say it like it’s the easiest and simplest thing in the world.

“And now for the exchange of rings.” Robby’s voice is a little shaky. He grabs them both out of his breast pocket. “Very beautiful rings at that.” He says, sniffling and clearing his throat, a low hum of laughter sounding at his attempt to hide his emotions. He holds them in his palm in front of you and Jack, the padfolio with his notes in his other hand. 

Robby takes in a deep breath. “Your rings symbolize your love for one another. Love freely given and chosen every day with no beginning or end and with no true giver or receiver as you both give and receive equally, unbroken and infinite and yours alone. When you look at your rings be reminded of this moment, of the vows you’ve made to each other today, and of your unending and ever growing love for each other.” 

He offers his palm to Jack who picks up your ring. You raise your left hand and spread your fingers so Jack can hover your wedding ring at the start of your ring finger. Your hand shakes, no matter how hard try to keep it still the excitement and disbelief and joy and love win and it keeps shaking. Jack supports your hand with his free one, has it upturned, fingers resting against your palm and the length of your fingers, thumb wrapping gently over the side of your hand and resting on the back of it. Jack’s eyes return to yours and with it the intense eye contact you share, have been sharing most of your time up here. His eyes are glassy as he smiles at you. But you catch the slight tremble of his lips. 

“Jack, repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.” Jack’s eyes grow glassier as more tears form.  

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.”

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.” A few tears slide down Jack’s cheeks, his voice breaking around ‘always.’ You reach out with your right hand instinctively and use your handkerchief to blot some of his tears from his face making him laugh a little. From his face your hand goes to your own where tears have started to fall. 

“And with this ring, I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.”

“And with this ring,” Jack has to pause for a second to collect himself and clear his throat, “I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.” He’s smiling at you as he says it, tears still wetting his face as he breaks eye contact with you to watch as he slides your wedding ring all the way onto your finger. 

You watch as he does too, wear the biggest grin when you look back up at each other. You widen your eyes at him in a silent oh my god I have a wedding ring, we just did that. 

Robby holds his palm out for you and you take Jack’s wedding ring. Jack holds his left hand out and spreads his fingers just like you did. And his hand shakes just as badly as yours did as you hover his wedding ring at the start of his finger. Your free hand comes to support his left as he did for you. 

Robby glances at you. “Repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness and my undying devotion.” You press your lips together hard but they pull upward in a smile, tears still flowing from listening to Jack declare the same thing to you and trying to prevent the emotion from fully clouding your voice this early.

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.”

“Let it remind you that no matter where I may be, I am always with you in your heart.” You make it just a little further than Jack, the tears slipping into your voice and making it break at ‘in.’ 

Neither you nor Jack really stopped crying since you started again when Jack gave you your ring, nor have either of you stopped smiling through your tears. So, like you, Jack uses his handkerchief to wipe away some of your tears before doing the same for himself and his own. He’s careful too, dabbing like he’s observed you doing so that he doesn’t smear your makeup. You fight the urge his care and attention gives you to cry a little harder. 

“And with this ring, I marry you and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.”

“And with this ring, I marry you,” you pause to sniffle, try and steady your voice in vain, “and pledge to honor the vows we have exchanged today, to choose you every day and to love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be.” You have to break eye contact again so you can both watch as you slide his wedding band all the way onto his finger. Once it’s on you both watch as Jack closes his hand into a fist and reopens it as he gets used to having a ring. 

You’re both wide eyed as you hold hands again and slowly look back up at each other, almost in disbelief because this is it. You both have rings, have made vows and declared your intent. Robby is about to say it. Grins pull up onto your face, breaking quickly into huge beaming smiles. You’re both so overwhelmed with love in the moment, tears flow a little harder and you both giggle softly.

“And now by the very limited authority vested in me,” Robby nods at you and Jack and grabs both of your handkerchiefs from you, not that either of you see him or do much more than release them when you feel him pull, still focused on each other, still beaming so hard your cheeks hurt, “I pronounce you husband and wife. May your first act of marriage be one of love. You may now kiss for the first time as husband and wife.” As soon as he’s done speaking, Robby moves off the altar to the side so that it’ll just be you and Jack in photos, your friends and family cheering and clapping loudly for you, a couple of people whistling. 

Without hesitation you and Jack move in synchrony, both of you taking a half step towards the other to close the small distance between you, your bodies pressing against one another. Jack brings his hands up to your face, his thumbs resting gently above your jawline as his other fingers hold your neck. Your hands find the sides of his upper arms and wrap around them as much as possible. You both somehow smile a little bigger as you keep looking each other in the eyes for a second, your hands. Your heads tilt in opposite directions automatically as you lean in and kiss for the first time as a married couple. 

The kiss is perfect. Short and chaste but so much more than enough to at least begin to convey all the emotions both of you are feeling, the excitement and disbelief and joy and overwhelming love. There’s so much love in the kiss it almost makes both of you dizzy. It lingers just long enough but not too long. When it ends you steal another couple quickly. “I love you,” you giggle against Jack’s lips. 

“I love you too,” Jack chuckles a little.

Your arms wrap around Jack’s neck, one hand staying to hold the side of his face as his hands are moving so that one arm wraps around you, hand splaying against your back as his other hand grips your waist. He pulls you tight against him and then tucks you under him as he spins you a little and smoothly dips you as he kisses you again, just like he did when you first visited and selected the venue. You finish one kiss and smile against each other’s lips for a second before you kiss again and Jack returns you upright just as smoothly as he dipped you.  

When you’re standing again you and Jack pull apart, and the audience quiets just enough as Robby steps back onto the altar so that he can introduce you. “Family and friends, I’m honored and thrilled to introduce to you for the first time the Abbots!”

You’re sure you must grin like a love-drunk idiot when Robby calls you the Abbots but you genuinely couldn’t stop it if you tried. You’re truly just that happy. And Jack’s smiling just as hard at you as he laces your hand with his and you both turn towards the audience. You grab your bouquet from Dana in your other hand and exchange smiles with her before turning back to Jack to share a glance and make your way back up the aisle, smiling and thanking your friends and family who are clapping for you once again as you do. 

You and Jack walk hand in hand to the small room you’ve set aside to have thirty minutes with each other before you take photos while your guests enjoy cocktail hour. Your makeup artist has already graciously left you some redness clearing eyedrops and the caterer dropped off some appetizers for the two of you to enjoy. You figured it was a good way to give your eyes a chance to recover from crying even though your photographer can edit them out and to get some food because you’ve been told it gets hectic and the bride and groom often don’t get to eat much. But more than anything it’s just thirty minutes alone together as husband and wife. 

Once you’re both in the room with the door locked you can finally give into the urges to be close and hold each other that you were both fighting the entire ceremony. 

Your arms slide around Jack’s neck as his slide around your back, pulling you as close to him as he can get while still being able to kiss you. Because kiss you Jack does. He starts fairly chaste, more a series of kisses than anything but they grow more fervent, his tongue flicking across your bottom lip to coax your mouth open for him. When you do he’s quick to lick into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you. He lets you into his mouth when your tongue seeks it out, sucks slightly to pull another pretty moan from you, a small groan escaping him when you nip at his bottom lip and suck at it before letting him dive back into you.

You finally break apart when you’re no longer able to get enough oxygen in through your nose alone. You rest your foreheads together for a second before you move you to have your face nuzzling against his neck so that your chests can be pressed against each other more as you hold each other. 

“I wanted to do this so bad during the ceremony,” you murmur. “Just hug and hold you and be hugged and held by you. I just wanted to be close after everything that we said.” 

Jack squeezes you tighter, rocks you both a little. “I did too Doll, believe me.”

The two of you stand there holding each other and relishing in your closeness for what has to be five minutes. You’re both silent save the occasional soft hum at the right touch. You’re silent but you’re still talking to each other with your hands, where they wander and rub and squeeze. Both of you are reflecting on what you said to each other at the ceremony, what was said to you by the other, observations Robby made. It’s hard to believe it’s real. You made it here together and are now standing holding each other as husband and wife. 

Jack takes great care not to mess up your hair as he lets one of his hands find the back of your neck and pulls your face from him gently. “Let me really look at you and your dress now, yeah?” he murmurs as his eyes find yours before you can whine about being pulled away from him. 

“Only if I can also really look at you.” You smile and are already releasing him and stepping back for him as you say it. You know he’ll let you. He won’t understand why you want to, but he’ll let you. 

“Course,” he whispers distractedly as he takes his own step back and starts really taking in your dress, taking in every detail and walking around you to see the entire thing. The same feelings and thoughts as when he saw you for the first time rush through him. “Doll,” he breathes out once he’s in front of you again, “you are truly stunning. You always are but this, you in your wedding dress, fuck, it’s something else.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it but once he finishes they quickly drop again, sweeping over your dress and back up to your eyes. “There really aren’t words.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, awkward at accepting compliments, even from him. But you don’t need to say more, Jack knows. He knows what his words mean to you and how they make you feel. “Let me see you, please.” Jack nods and your eyes rake over his body. He turns for you slowly, lets you take him in. “You are so unfairly handsome, Jack, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” Like with him, your feelings and thoughts when you saw him the first time hit you all over again. “Always are, but this,” you let out a soft laugh and shake your head slightly, “like you said, it’s something else. No words.”

A light flush hits Jack’s neck and cheeks. He struggles accepting compliments at times just like you. “Thank you.” He doesn’t need to say more either, and you share another kiss and wrap each other in a tight hug again, communicating so much with every touch. You stay wrapped in each other like that for at least a minute if not a little longer. 

“Wanna sit? Have some food?” Jack finally murmurs. He would stand here holding you forever if you asked. Happily.

You nod, take his hand as he releases you and guides you over to the couch, food on the table in front of it, along with the eyedrops. “Here.” You grab the eyedrops and a tissue, put a couple drops in each eye. “To help with the redness.”

“You really thought of everything didn’t you?” Jack grabs them from you and then the tissue, puts a few in each eye and uses the tissue to catch anything that falls over. 

“Makeup artist,” you admit. “She was on it.” 

“She was,” Jack murmurs. “Even though you don’t need it in the slightest, your makeup does look exceptional.” He leans in for a quick kiss before turning to pull the table the food is on closer to the couch.

“Wait! Before we eat, move my engagement ring back!” You hold out both hands. 

He chuckles a little at your excitement. You could easily move it back yourself but you want him to and it’s adorable. “Alright, Doll.” Jack smiles at you as he slides your engagement ring off your right hand and brings it over a little and slides it right back down your left ring finger until it sits atop your wedding band perfectly. He brings your hand up and kisses your rings before he lets go of your hand. “Perfect.”

You giggle a little as you look down at your left hand and wiggle your finger a little to watch all the diamonds catch the light. Jack smiles as he watches you, drinks you in and tries to memorize the moment and how happy and gorgeous you look. “Hey, guess what?” You look back up at him.

“What?”

You shift a little closer to him and place your hands on his chest. “You’re my husband now,” you slide your hands up his neck to hold his face, “and I’m your wife.”

Jack’s eyes darken, jaw tensing and breathing picking up just slightly. His hands wrap over yours where they rest against his face and neck. “My wife,” he breathes out. 

His lips are on yours, all consuming from the get go, no soft lead-up like he usually does. His kisses are insistent, tongue tasting you again and pulling a little moan from the back of your throat. The sound spurs him on, Jack’s hands moving, arms wrapping around you as he leans you back onto the couch, one hand supporting your neck and helping you keep it up enough so that your hair is protected as your head almost lays against the armrest of the couch. It’s an awkward position with your legs still over the edge of the couch but neither of you care or even particularly notice, getting lost in each other, heavy exhales through your noises and sloppy kissing sounds filling the room.  

“Jack.” You try to say his name as a warning but it comes out far too breathy to be remotely effective. He doesn’t like that you’ve pulled away, his lips chasing yours as he makes a noise of discontent. “You really want our first time as husband and wife to be a quickie in a random room?”

“I mean…it’s a nice couch,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Jack.” Your hands push at his chest a little so that he’ll look at you. 

“No, no, I know you’re right, I just.” He groans and rests his forehead against your chest for a second before looking back up at you and helping you sit back upright.  “I just want you. Really bad. My wife.”

“I know.” You give him a soft smile and kiss on the cheek. “And please don’t think I don’t want you. I do. Just as badly as you want me.”

“No, I know, I don’t think that,” he assures you. “You’re right. I want to be able to go slow and take my wife apart piece by piece for our first time as husband and wife.” 

His words make you shiver. “Yeah,” you breathe out and nod, eyes flicking all over his face and down his body before coming back up. “I want to be able to do that to my husband too.” 

Jack groans, leans his forehead against yours. “The anticipation makes it better, right?”

You let out a small laugh. “Sure does, Peter.” You give him another quick kiss. “Let’s have some food.” Jack nods and pulls his forehead away. 

You and Jack both start to eat, still side by side and leaning into each other a little. “Oh, what’s the ring on your right hand?” Jack asks in between bites. 

“Mm,” you hum as you finish chewing and swallowing. “My something borrowed, which reminds me. Thank you. For doing that for me, arranging it.” You look down at the ring. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to do it until I had everything.” You return your eyes to Jack’s and smile at him. 

“It felt like you were a little more bummed about not doing it than you were admitting to yourself. And none of them felt burdened by it, if anything they were all excited to have that extra bit of involvement.” He raises his eyebrows a little and cocks his head just a little, the slightest I told you so smile pulling onto his face. 

“I’m ignoring that look on purpose,” you tell him before taking a bite and grinning at him. Jack just laughs and shakes his head, takes a bite of his own. “But the ring is from Dana, obviously. She said it’s been worn by every Evans woman who has gotten married for a hundred and two years and there’s not been a single divorce,” you explain after you finish your bite. 

Jack’s eyebrows raise at that and he tilts his head to silently say impressive as he chews. “Then something new you obviously know about which we’re circling back to in a second.” You grab your bouquet from the table. “Heather’s something old was this locket.” You hand the bouquet to Jack so he can see. 

“It’s very pretty.” He runs his thumb over the front. 

“It is. She got it at an antique store and said hummingbirds are a symbol of resilience and she thought that was fitting for us.” You rest your hand on Jack’s upper arm and squeeze a little. “Open it.” 

It should be more difficult than it is for Jack with how big his hands and how thick his fingers are but practicing medicine has given him phenomenal dexterity. You’re intimately familiar with how good his dexterity is. “Oh, wow,” Jack murmurs. He doesn’t know what he was expecting but not that. “Our first picture together.”

You beam at Jack even though he can’t see because he’s still looking at the picture. “She got it off my phone one night when we were out. Very sneaky,” you laugh. “And then apparently the rhyme ends with ‘a sixpence in your shoe.’ Mel wasn’t sure if anyone was getting one so she got one and we attached it to my shoe.” You hold it out for Jack to see. “But about this something new, Jack Abbot.”

“You skipped something blue.” Jack raises his brows at you slightly as he takes another bite. 

You shake your head, smirking just a little. “No, something blue is for you to see later.”

His eyes narrow in suspicion just a touch but you watch as they dilate a little because he knows it has to be something below your dress based on your smirk. “What if I want to see it now?” he rasps. 

“Then you’ll have to be patient.” You shrug at him. “Something new. Jack, it’s beautiful.” You hold up your wrist to admire the bracelet. “It’s so much and it complements my rings perfectly.” You can feel your eyes start to burn a little and you have to look away from the bracelet and Jack so that you don’t start crying again and render the eyedrops useless. 

“You deserve it,” Jack murmurs, making you shake your head and tilt it back so you don’t cry. “It’s about the least you deserve, Doll.” You reach blindly for his thigh and squeeze it as a thank you and way to say all the words you can’t at the moment. “And let’s talk about my something new.” That gets you to laugh a little and after a big breath you’re able to look at him. “It’s incredible.” Jack holds his wrist out this time, pulling his sleeves up a bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever had something this nice or been given such an amazing gift.” He runs a finger along the circular face of the watch. 

You’re smiling at him when he looks up at you. It’s soft and reflects so much love with the extra little squint of your eyes. “You deserve it. It’s about the least you deserve, Peter,” you repeat Jack’s words back to him, mean them just as much.

He smiles at you, just a hint of some shakiness in his lips before leaning in to kiss you. Like your thigh squeeze his kiss is a thank you and everything else he can’t say. “I love you,” he whispers as he pulls away, smiling softly at you.  

“I love you too.” You give him another little thigh squeeze. 

You and Jack continue to chat as you finish eating your appetizers. You still have some time left once your done and Jack pulls you into his lap and leans back into the couch as he holds you. You both revel in the closeness and soft touches. 

There’s a knock on the door and you know your time is up. “Guess I have to go share you with everyone again.” You pout at Jack playfully. 

He chuckles and kisses your out turned lip. “I know how you feel Doll.” He gives you a real kiss once you get rid of your pout and then is up and opening the door.

Waiting outside it for you are your photographer, your makeup artist, Robby, Dana, and your friend. “Marriage license time,” Robby sings a little as he walks in holding up the paper. 

All of you sign it, Dana and your friend acting as your two witnesses. You say goodbye and they head back to cocktail hour while you get your makeup touched up and you and Jack meet with your photographer for photos, take what feels like a thousand all over the place. You both know it’s going to be hard to choose which ones to get printed and hang. 

Just before you finish taking photos your wedding coordinator gets everyone to the reception space and seated for dinner. When you do finish she lets Robby know and hands him the mic. You’d also roped him in to quasi-emceeing for you. 

He introduces you as you and Jack walk into the reception space. “Alright everybody, for the second ever time, let’s give a warm welcome to the Abbots!” Your guests all cheer and clap for you as you and Jack make your way over to your sweetheart table and sit down, Jack pulling your chair out and offering you his hand to help you sit like he always does. 

“Okay, so,” Robby starts as dinner begins to be served. “Obviously dinner is being served. The bride and groom decided to let whoever wants to give a speech give one during dinner. But you have to give it before they give their own right before the first dance.” 

“I’m not going to give a full one since I really already got to at the altar. But, I just want to say again that you both mean so much to me and I am so happy for you guys. I wish you all the happiness in the world, you both deserve it so so much and deserve each other and your love. So here’s to the Abbot’s,” Robby raises his glass and everyone follows, “I love you both dearly.” He tilts his glass at you and the sound of glasses clinking together fills the room for a few seconds before it stops when sips are taken. 

Quite a few people give speeches over the course of dinner, Dana, Heather, your friend, Jack’s unit gets up and gives one together, some of the Pitt crew copying and getting up in small groups to say a few words. You and Jack laugh and chat together in between them, stay close to each other and pick off each other’s plates. You’d deliberately gotten different options so you could share, something you frequently do when you eat out. 

Once you’re done eating and signal to Robby he gets up and calls out to see if there are any last speeches and hands you and Jack the microphone when everyone stays seated. You and Jack take turns speaking to all of your friends and family, keep it short because you know everyone’s attention spans for speeches are worn by this point. 

After you finish Robby takes the microphone back, gives you and Jack a second to get out on the dance floor. He keeps the introduction simple. “And now we get to watch them have their first dance as husband and wife.”

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whisper to Jack as you start to dance when your song begins playing. 

“I know,” he murmurs back as he beams at you. “After all the planning and waiting for this day to come here we are.” You and Jack are really swaying to the music more than anything. You didn’t learn a dance or really practice. It just wasn’t your style as a couple. 

“You know I’ve been thinking about this moment since you danced with me up on the roof.” Your eyes start to grow a little shiny. 

Jack smirks a little and flicks his eyebrows up. “We weren’t even engaged then.”

You shake your head. “No, we weren’t. But I hoped and dreamed we would be one day and while we were dancing and ever since then I had moments where I really thought about it and what it would be like. Our first dance at our wedding.” 

“You wanna know a secret?” Jack’s grinning at you. 

“Always.”

“I came about three seconds away from proposing up there on the roof that night,” he admits with a little laugh. 

Your jaw falls open a little. “Really?” Jack nods at you with an amused smile. “Why didn’t you?” You’re smiling back at him now that you’ve gotten over the initial shock of his unexpected revelation. 

Jack hums for a second. “I didn’t think the roof of the hospital I work at and you were currently a patient at really screamed romantic or place to propose. And you were in the hospital. You’d been shot and almost died and I didn’t want it to feel like that’s why I was proposing. Because of what happened or because I felt like I had to or anything along those lines.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that,” you murmur. Jack nods. He knows. He knew then too, but it still worried him and at the end of the day he didn’t want to propose on the roof of the hospital. “Did you have the ring with you?”

“No,” he laughs, “nope, I was just going to get down on one knee and do it and promise you there was a ring waiting at home and send Robby to go get it.” He pauses for a second. “I was also worried you would get so excited you’d somehow manage to accidentally pull your central line out and it would go from cute date night scene to bloody crime scene with my hand clamped over your neck real quick.” 

“That would not have been ideal.” Jack spins you at the right point in the music and it and his words make you giggle a bit. “Would have been a hell of a story though.” 

“Oh, it would have been something,” he laughs. You both smile at each other fondly, glad you’ve gotten to a point where you can talk about what happened with some humor and not feel a total ache inside. 

“I love you,” you whisper to him, “more than anything.” You stick your lips out and Jack leans down as you continue to dance and gives you the kiss you ask for. 

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips, “more than anything.” He steals another couple of kisses from you before straightening back up as the song starts to end. “I’m going to dip you,” he murmurs quickly.

And as the music ends Jack dips you and kisses you again, just like he did at the altar. You smile into it before the kiss breaks and you keep your foreheads together as Jack brings you back upright. “Always so smooth,” you laugh. 

“Only for you, Doll,” he murmurs, pulling his forehead from yours and giving you a quick forehead kiss while your guests clap and the DJ puts on a fast song, everyone heading to the dance floor.

The party really starts then, the DJ doing a great job of playing all the right songs to get people dancing and having a good time with you and Jack out on the dance floor. He mixes in a few slow songs and you and Jack enjoy watching who pairs up with who and getting to take a few minutes to focus back on each other and check in. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jack tells you with a quick kiss after a slower song finishes and a fast one starts. 

“You better be,” you say with mock sternness in your tone and on your face, Jack rolling his eyes playfully at you. He walks off the dance floor and shrugs his jacket off and lays it over his chair at the sweetheart table and undoes a button of his shirt. 

Jack keeps his promise, making his way back to you from behind and pulling you close as he starts dancing with you again. “Fast enough?” He yells over the music. 

“I suppose.” You turn your head up to look back at him, huge smile on your face. Your eyebrows raise and you spin in his arms when you notice the lack of jacket and open button. “Hot?”

“Not anymore.” Jack smirks at you and pulls you back close to him to dance. 

You and Jack get separated a bit as you dance. And when another slow song starts Robby cuts in just before Jack can get to you. “May I have this dance?” He offers you his hand. “Don’t even start Jack, the officiant is allowed a dance with the bride, it’s just the rules.” Robby smirks, giving Jack a look.  

You laugh softly at Robby’s playful over-formalness. “You may,” you nod at him, take his hand. “Next one, Peter.” You wink at Jack.

“It’s true Jack, Robby’s right,” Dana playfully chides him. “Plus I think you owe me a dance.” 

“I suppose you did walk me down the aisle.” Jack smiles and steps away from you and Robby before offering his hand to Dana. 

You and Robby start dancing, really just swaying around the dance floor more than anything. “I had an interesting conversation with your husband while he was getting ready earlier.” 

You’re smiling at Robby the entire time, but your eyes light up and you beam at him when he calls Jack your husband. “My husband,” you just have to say the words, make a little face of excitement. “And what did you and my husband talk about?”  

Robby’s quiet for a moment as he thinks of what exactly he wants to say. “I started by telling him that the two of you were idiots for thinking you don’t deserve each other and your love, because I know you have the same thoughts as him at times.” Your mouth drops open a little and you scoff playfully. It’s definitely not what you expected him to say. “And then I said some rendition of this. You said he’s your everything and I know he is. Everyone here knows he is, we all believe you. I see the way you look at him and hear the way you talk about him. But, you have to know that you are everything to Jack in that same way, that same capacity. He looks at you and talks about you in the same way you do about him. The way that you love him and feel about him and the intensity of your love for him, it’s all exactly the same as how Jack loves you and feels about you and how intense his love for you is. You think he deserves your love, right?” 

“He does,” you affirm quietly as you nod. 

“Yeah,” Robby nods, “he does. And you deserve his love just the same. I told Jack that I think today, on the day of your wedding, would be a really good day to let yourself accept it. That you deserve Jack and his love and to be loved at the same intensity with which you love Jack.” Robby’s giving you a small, knowing smile, eyebrows slightly raised as he nods just a little at you. 

You have to look away for a moment. “Robby, I,”  you start, but never finish. His words hit you just as hard as they hit Jack. As hard as it is for you to believe and admit you know Robby is right. 

“It’s okay,” you can hear the smile in Robby’s voice and you look back at him. “You don’t have to say anything. I just told Jack I’d give you the same spiel.” 

You laugh softly. “What was his reaction? It had to involve your therapist.”

Robby laughs properly at that. “Yeah, you know him well. He said our therapist was rubbing off on me and asked if I was thinking of leaving him to become a psychologist.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Sounds like him.” You and Robby share a quiet laugh together, your eyes drifting across the dance floor until you spot Jack. You watch him and Dana dance for a moment, both of them smiling and laughing. It makes your heart warm. 

“You’re really good for him, you know?” Robby watches you watch Jack. You pull your eyes back to him and flash an apologetic smile for ignoring him a little for a second there. “I’ve never really had the chance to tell you that. But you’re really really good for him. You’re what he needed.” 

You give Robby a small smile. “Yeah, he was what I needed too. What I need.”

“I know it sounds like something people say just to say, but please try to believe me when I tell you that I have never seen that man happier than I have since you’ve been in his life.” Robby smiles and tilts his head. “And thank you. For loving and helping the people around him too.” 

“You’re family. All of you. And thank you, Michael,” your voice shakes just slightly. “For everything.” 

Robby huffs a laugh and looks away from you for a second. “That was a very targeted use of Michael meant to make me cry again.”  

You both laugh as the song ends and move towards the edge of the dance floor. “It wasn’t deliberate,” you whisper as you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “It just felt like the right moment.” 

“Am I allowed to have my wife back now?” 

“Of course,” Robby tells him as you both turn to greet Jack and it’s almost like you’re magnetized the way you both seamlessly move towards each other, your hand sliding to rest on Jack’s back as his arm wraps around your waist. He gives you a reassuring little squeeze and kiss to your temple and you rest your other hand on his chest. 

“He gave me the spiel.” You look up at Jack with a gentle smile. 

“Ah,” Jack nods, “good. You should listen to him.” 

“You both should listen to me!” Robby scoffs playfully. “Once again, you’re both idiots sometimes.” 

“Thank you for not putting that in your ceremony opening or your speech.” Jack flicks his eyebrows up and nods at Robby with a fake grimace and ire. 

Robby rolls his eyes. “Just try, yeah? That’s all. Just try to accept you deserve each other and your love, okay?”

You and Jack share a look and exchange soft smiles before turning to Robby. “We are,” Jack assures him. 

“Promise,” you add. 

Robby looks between the two of you before nodding. “Alright. Good.” He looks back at the dance floor. The music is fast again, the majority of your guests out dancing. It makes you and Jack happy, seeing all of your friends and family blending together like they’ve known each other forever. “You guys should get back to dancing with your guests.”

“You,” you point at Robby, smile growing, “should come with us!”

He laughs, shakes his head. “Maybe in a bit, I’m going to take advantage of your open bar and go get a drink, sit for a minute.”

You boo him teasingly. “No, no, Doll,” Jack starts as Robby turns and starts walking away, “if the old man needs a rest, we have to let him. Don’t want him straining himself, do we?” You bite your lip and turn your head into Jack’s chest a little as you fight back a laugh.

Robby stops walking and gives a singular hummed laugh before turning to look back at you and Jack. “You just really had to go there, huh?”

Jack presses his lips together and pulls them up a bit in a not quite smirk, as he shrugs and starts pulling you towards the center of the dance floor. “I didn’t go anywhere but the truth.” 

You giggle as you and Jack turn and let yourselves get pulled back into the middle of things, starting to dance with your friends again. Jack doesn’t let you get separated this time, he wants you close, keeps a hand wrapped around your waist and you pulled back close to him. You share a laugh when you see Robby there with you, getting pulled in by Heather and Santos. 

A few songs later and the DJ announces that the cake will be cut in ten minutes. You spin so that you and Jack are chest to chest. “Guess we should go sit and cool down and I should touch my makeup up before that.”

Jack nods at you and laces your hand with his. The two of you walk back over to your sweetheart table and Jack pulls your chair back for you, helps you sit before he takes his own seat. “Thank you.” You lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing the makeup bag staged under the table. 

“For?” 

“For getting my chair and helping me into my seat.” You throw him a smile as you start to pull things out of the bag. “And don’t say I don’t need to thank you for it because that’s what a gentleman does or whatever variation thereof you were about to say. I do need to thank you for it because I appreciate it and you and want you to always know that and that I don’t take you for granted. And most men don’t do things like that anymore, Jack. So it is special to me.” 

Jack laughs to himself. “You’re welcome. I enjoy doing those kinds of little things for you.” 

“I know, because you’re the best.” You pull a couple of oil blotting papers out from the pack in your makeup bag. “Sh.” You hold your index finger up to Jack’s lips. “Just accept that you are.” You pull your finger away and replace it quickly with your lips. 

Jack deepens the kiss more than he generally would in public and you let him. You’re effectively alone right now, everyone having so much fun dancing or sitting around the other tables and laughing that nobody is looking at you. Even then it’s not like you’re fully making out. Jack’s tongue just presses against your lips a little and you open your mouth just a little for him, just enough for his tongue to slip into your mouth and taste you for the briefest of seconds.

“You taste like expensive champagne,” he groans against your lips before pulling away. “I love it.” 

You hum at him and Jack says nothing, doesn’t flinch or blink as you start to blot at his face with the papers, just lets you do your thing, both of you equally sweaty. It’s a better look on him though. You only blot a few more places and then pull away, deciding it’s okay if he looks a little sweaty. Just makes him more attractive to you if you’re honest. “I enjoy expensive champagne,” you smirk at him as you shrug, “actually I’d like more expensive champagne. We should go get some.”

“I’ll go get us some, okay? While you touch yourself up or whatever it is you believe you need to do, because I personally think you look gorgeous just as you are right now.” He leans in and steals a kiss before you can argue with him. 

“I look sweaty and shiny.” Your eyes track him as he stands up.  

Jack stoops and kisses the top of your hair carefully. “Gorgeous,” he whispers as he walks away, walking backwards for a few paces to wink at you before turning. 

You shake your head at him affectionately and go back to blotting your face and touching up your makeup so that your lipstick is fresh and your face perfectly between matte and dewy. You know your photographer can edit things but you also know other people will be taking photos. It really hits you once you close your compact and aren’t focused on your face anymore. You and Jack are married. You’re about to cut the cake at your wedding. 

Jack’s thinking the same thing as he walks to the bar and in the moment he waits for the bartender to pour the two glasses of champagne and one of water. He thumbs at his wedding ring, opens and closes his fist. He’s not used to it, wearing a ring, and so it’s a constant reminder. You’re married. He’s bringing his wife back champagne for you to enjoy together before you cut the cake at your wedding. 

“Okay, more expensive champagne as requested.” Jack hands you your flute before he sits and sets down his flute and the glass of water. “And some water. We should both have some.” He gives you a little no arguing look. 

“I wasn’t going to argue, I was going to say thank you and that I meant to ask you to get some before you walked away but forgot.” You grab the glass and take a couple sips. “So thank you. I needed it.” You hold the glass out to him. 

“Course, Doll.” He takes it from you, has a couple of sips himself before setting it down. You both pick up your champagne flutes and take a sip. 

You hum as you let the bubbles rest in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. “You have to admit it’s really fucking good champagne.”

Jack laughs. “I never said it wasn’t! I think it’s very good.” He stops speaking but his lips twitch like he wants to say more, eyes glint a little mischievously. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “I was just thinking about how I was never a big champagne fan before you.” You raise your eyebrows at him asking that so? as you take another sip. “Tasting it on you though… changed my opinion. Now I love it.”  

You cough a little as you finish your sip, not expecting him to say that. “Probably less tasting it on me and more me making us always get expensive real champagne.” 

“No, I’m quite certain it was tasting it on you.” You give him a look. “It was. The first time we shared a bottle of one of your favorite expensive real champagnes we were at your apartment because your week had been long and you wanted to celebrate it being over and the fact that I had a full weekend off so we could spend the entire weekend together. I had a glass and thought it was better than champagne I’d had before, yes, but I didn’t love it really. And then we started making out on your couch and I tasted it on you and my eyes were opened. Ever since then I really have come to enjoy it. But it was tasting it on you that made me start to enjoy it.”

You nod at him, the slight grin you’re wearing telling Jack that while you struggle to believe it, you do believe him. “I’m equal parts wooed and turned on by that little confession, Peter.”

Jack laughs at that, properly, because it was such a you thing to say. “You are…” he shakes his head and looks around while he tries to find the right word. “You.” His eyes crinkle and his lips pull up, “you’re so you sometimes, Doll, and I love it so much. I’m sure that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense but-” 

“It does,” you cut in to reassure him. “I know what you mean. You have moments where you say or do something and I think to myself that was such a Jack thing of him to say or do. I get it, and I love it too.” You give Jack the same loving smile he’s giving you. “A toast.” You raise your champagne flute, Jack following your lead. “To a long lifetime of expensive champagne together.”

Jack shakes his head at you, still smiling at you like he’s drowning in love. “Here, here,” he murmurs before you clink your glasses and take a sip. “You done touching up?”

“I am,” you nod. “We still have some time.”

“I know, come here.” Jack beckons you with his fingers, his other hand patting his lap. You giggle as you comply with his request, sliding your flute of champagne over next to his before sitting on his lap, one arm wrapping behind his neck so you can scratch at the nape of his neck how he loves. “That’s better.” One arm comes around you to hold you close while his other hand rests in your lap and starts to play with your hand that rests there too.

You let yourself lean into him. Let yourself lean into your husband as you take a moment together and watch the room, sip on champagne and water. “I can’t believe it’s almost over.”

“I know,” Jack agrees. His hand squeezes your hip and you look down at him. “Thank you.”

You smile at him curiously. “For what?” 

“Everything.” He shrugs, looking into your eyes. “Marrying me. Being my best friend. Making me laugh. Taking care of me. Loving me.” There’s a little pause between each one so they all sink in. Jack glances away from you and you can tell from that and his expression that there’s one he’s fighting with himself about saying. When he looks back up at you he’s clearly more emotional. “Waking up,” he whispers so quietly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t looking right at him. 

“Jack-”

“No,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat. “No, I don’t want us to go there or dwell on it or any of that, I just wanted to say it, felt like we should acknowledge it quickly somehow.” 

You give him a soft smile, bring your hands to cup his face. “I’ll always wake up for you,” you murmur as you look him in the eyes and lean in to give him a series of painfully soft and sweet kisses. 

“Good.” He smirks at you. “If you don’t I’ll just pinch your ass awake.” 

“Ha!” you laugh triumphantly. “So you admit it! You did pinch my ass awake on the day of our third anniversary and wedding.” Jack starts laughing because the way you said it was so you again and he loves you so much and you’re his fucking wife now. You shake your head at him in mock upset.

Jack keeps laughing, his laugh so contagious it makes you start to laugh with him. He’s overwhelmed. “I love you so fucking much I want to squeeze you and bite you and kiss you and also just fuck you right here on this table, god.” He leans in and steals a kiss from you, longer this time. 

“I love when I bring out the cuteness aggression in you,” you giggle as he pulls away. Jack shakes his head at you and laughs softly. “But hey,” you grow a little serious again. “Thank you too. For everything. Marrying me, being my best friend, making me laugh. Loving me.” Your voice gets a little like Jack’s did and you tilt your head at him a little. “Taking care of me. Never leaving my side. Never letting me feel alone.” 

“Always, Doll.” Jack’s eyes crinkle just a little more than normal with his soft smile that you return. You just look at each other for a moment, let it all fade away and rest your foreheads together. 

“Here.” You pull your forehead from Jack’s and grab a napkin, dip a little piece in the glass of water. “Let me make sure you don’t have any lipstick on you.” 

“Not my color?” He smirks. 

“Not there it isn’t.” You look him in the eyes and smirk harder, the quickest and slightest raise of your brows.

Jack lets out a single choked laugh as you bring the napkin to his lips and rub gently. “Are you trying to have me hard in the cake cutting photos?”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately as you finish wiping off his lips. “I’m sitting on your lap Peter, I can assure you that if I wanted you hard in the cake cutting photos I wouldn’t be using my words to achieve that.” You boop his nose on the last word and die a little inside at how cute he looks when he scrunches his nose at it. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he playfully grumbles as you grab your lipstick and compact to check if you need to touch up from the kisses. “Do you want me to put my jacket back on while we cut the cake for the photos?” 

“Up to you,” you shrug at him. “I want you to be happy and look how you want to look in our wedding photos. It’s not all about what I want.” 

“No, I know, I just didn’t know if you had a preference because I don’t really care strongly one way or the other,” Jack explains. “I just want you to be happy.”

You tilt your head at him and give him a small smile. “As long as you’re up there cutting the cake with me Jack, I’m going to be happy. Jacket or not. All I need is you.” Jack makes a little noise of protest and you laugh softly. “Why don’t you leave it off? We have lots of photos of you with it on and I don’t know, you have the jacket off for a reason. Because you got hot while dancing and having fun at our wedding before we even made it to cutting the cake. I like the idea of the photos reflecting that. But truly, it’s up to you.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave it off.” A beat passes and Jack doesn’t quite stifle his smirk fast enough so you catch a glimpse of it. “Do you want me to undo one more button for the photos?” 

Your heart races a bit just at the thought of him with two buttons undone. “That would be very slutty of you Peter,” you hum. 

“Slutty?” Jack barks out a laugh. “Are you saying I’ve looked slutty every time I’ve worn a dress shirt like that?”

“Why do you think I never want you wearing two undone in public? I’d have to fight everyone off.” You shrug.

“So you’re saying I’m a slut?” He raises his eyebrows, amused smile ghosting his lips as he tries to keep it from pulling up. But you can see it, especially in his eyes.

“No.” You shake your head slowly and finish off your champagne, set the empty flute on the table. You lean in close enough for your breath to ghost across his lips, drop your voice to just above a whisper. “I’m saying you’re my slut,” you pull back and give him a dazzling smile, “Dr. Abbot.”

“Jesus,” Jack mutters under his breath, shaking his head and looking away from you. “You’re ending up using your words to achieve it without trying.” You giggle at his reference to your earlier discussion. “Doctor was so on purpose.” 

You tug just sharply enough on the curls at the nape of his neck to pull a little sharp breath from him. “You started it my love, making me think about you with two buttons open. I merely finished it.” You steal a quick kiss from him. “You know you can call me it now.” 

Jack is focusing so intensely on not getting any harder than the semi he currently has that he’s a little too distracted to truly think about your words. His eyebrows raise a little. “Call you what?”

Your eyes flick away from him for a second before returning. You hum softly, the faintest smirk and lean back in close. “Abbot.”

Jack groans low, right from the center of his chest and the sound makes you shiver as you stand up. “No no no, where do do you think you’re going? You don’t get to drop that and run.”

“Yes yes yes. We’re being summoned to cut the cake.” You nod over at where the wedding coordinator is waving you over. 

“Okay, well I’m going to need a minute here,” Jack huffs under his breath. 

“Oh?” You feign innocence. “Something the matter, dear?” Jack looks at you stone faced and shaking his head slightly. “Come on,” you hold your hands out for him. “Just stay behind me until you’re good.” 

“Alright, but don’t ‘accidentally’ lean back into me and rub your ass all over me.” Jack takes your hands and stands, walks a step behind you just to the side when you begin walking. 

“I would never, I can’t believe you’d accuse me of doing such a thing.” You click your tongue at him.

“Ha!” Jack scoffs a laugh. “You would, multiple times. And I’m serious, if you do I’ll have no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

You tilt your head and he can feel your smirk even if he can’t see it. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

“Oh that’s not a threat Doll,” Jack murmurs, all gravel and lust. He rests a hand on your hip once you arrive in front of the cake and squeezes. “It’s a promise.” 

You glance back up at him and the hunger he’s staring down at you with almost makes you say you need a minute and grab his hand and run to the nearest bathroom. Instead you just stare back at him for a moment before he nods to the cake and you turn back around. 

The cutting itself is fairly quick and easy. Jack’s steady emergency room physician hands are able to hold yours still as you cut into the cake and pull a slice out. He holds the plate as you each feed each other a little bite and kiss once you’re done. There’s no smashing of any kind, you know Jack would never and neither would you. It’s sweet and the love is palpable as your friends and family watch, photographer snapping away. 

The dance floor clears for the most part as everyone grabs cake and takes a breather. You and Jack take your piece and return back to your sweetheart table, but just about as soon as you’re finished you’re dragged back onto the dance floor together by Dana and Parker. 

You and Jack get a little separated but are still pretty close and it’s easy for you to dance your way back over to him. “Hey!” You give him a quick kiss to the cheek. “I’m going to the bathroom. It’ll take a second with the dress. Try not to have too much fun without me.” You wink at Jack before turning around and grabbing your friend’s hand for help with your dress. 

He watches you walk away and link arms with your friend, lean into each other as you walk and giggle together. Jack intends on slinking off the dance floor since he really only wants to be here with you. 

“Nope!” He’s caught by Santos and McKay. “She’ll be back soon enough, you can stay out here with us.” Santos raises her eyebrows at him almost as a little challenge and Jack rolls his eyes but lets them pull him back in. 

He’s always aware of you though, always wants to know where you are in case he needs to get to you immediately. So he sees when you walk out of the bathroom, you and your friend still giggling. He shakes his head and smiles at the two of you, focusing back where he is. 

But when your friend appears without you he looks around. He stops dancing without fully realizing it once he spots you. You’re sitting at a table with a bunch of the men from his unit and their significant others. You feel his gaze on you, you always do, and look over at him, give him a quick wave and a smile but don’t go to move at all, just return to your conversation. 

You had met them before the wedding since they all flew in a day early, had a nice dinner all together, so it’s not like they were literal strangers at your wedding. But still. You don’t have to be over there sitting with them and talking to them and getting to know them. Yet you are. Because like everyone else important in his life you want to do more than just know them cursorily. You want to be friends. You want them to know they’re just as important to you as they are to Jack. You want them to know that they can call you and you’ll help just like Jack would and that your and Jack’s place is open to them whenever they might need. 

“You good?” Dana yells over the music at Jack, grabs a hand to get him dancing again. He smiles and nods at her, his mind still on you and how amazing and perfect you are and how fucking lucky he is. 

A couple of songs pass and Jack watches you and a few of those who you’d been talking with make your way back to the dance floor. Jack manages to slip off the dance floor finally. He walks up to the DJ. “Can you play this song?” He shows the DJ his phone.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’ll play it next.”

“Perfect, thanks.” Jack smiles to himself as he moves around the dance floor to be close enough to you but far enough away that you don’t really see him as you dance.   

The current song ends and everyone is thrown for a second by the instrumental piano opening. It takes you five or six seconds to fully clock it, laughing to yourself and starting to look for Jack when you realize. 

He slips up right behind you, one hand on your waist as his front presses into your back. “Hi, Doll,” he murmurs, the cheeky grin he’s wearing clear in his voice. He presses a teasing kiss to your neck. 

You spin so that you’re chest to chest now, hands going just where they need to so that you can start slightly faster slow dancing. “Hi Peter.” You lean up for a quick kiss. “As Time Goes By. How coincidental.” You arch a brow at him in playful accusation.

“It felt right,” Jack admits to requesting it, shrugging, “since I wouldn’t sing it for you in Paris.” While other couples are dancing the two of you can feel lots of eyes on you. It’s clearly a song that’s playing specifically for you and Jack. He gives you a slightly sly smile and your brows raise in anticipation. “Of all the bookstores in all the towns in all the world, you walked into mine.” 

You press your lips together and smile as you hold back a laugh. “I can’t decide if that was really bad or really good.” You and Jack share a laugh. “It was very romantic. This whole thing, requesting the song and sneaking up behind me, because I know that was deliberate too,” you nod your head a little at him as you say it, “and the line.” Your eyes grow a little glassy at the sentiment. “I like to think we were fated too.” 

“I know we were,” Jack nods, “I know the world brought you to me on purpose.” His eyes are a little glassy now too. 

You push your lips out a little and Jack leans down to kiss you. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips. 

Jack hums a little laugh, lips pulling up into a smile against yours. “I love you too.”

The final hour or so of the wedding goes fast and yet slow. You and Jack both don’t want it to end but at the same time you’re a little desperate to finally be alone together for the night. It’s been a beautiful and perfect long day. Your and Jack’s perfect day. 

You say goodbye to everyone as they all walk over towards the car you and Jack will be leaving in. There’s hugs and a few tears and promises to see each other soon and text and call and send photos from the honeymoon. 

And then you and Jack are finally in the town car and being driven away. 

“That was really the perfect day,” you sigh as you lean into Jack. You’re happy that Robby was able to check you into the hotel earlier before the wedding and drop your stuff so that you and Jack can just run through the lobby to the elevators and get to your room as quick as possible.

“Yes it was.” Jack moves his arm around you and pulls you even closer. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You tilt your head up as Jack leans down and kisses you. 

It devolves so very quickly. You and Jack makeout effectively the entire rest of the way to the hotel. Jack gropes at your breasts over your dress, sucks bruises into your neck and collarbones and chest now that he finally can again. The last two weeks of being unable to mark you anywhere that could be visible in your dress were torturous even if he understood why and completely respected it. 

You undo another button of his shirt and kiss at his chest, lick your lips to wet your lipstick before you do so that you leave lip prints behind on his chest and his neck. You wrap your hand around Jack as best you can over his pants and rub at him. Both of you happily swallow down the quiet moans you pull from each other, knowing that the screen dividing you from the driver is not soundproof. 

“Do you want to stop?” you pant softly against Jack’s lips, moaning softly as he squeezes one of your breasts and nibbles at your jaw. 

“Why would I ever want to do that?” His lips are back on your neck the second he’s done speaking, kissing and sucking lightly, smiling to himself when you squirm a little from how good it feels. 

“So that you’re not hard walking to the elevator.” You barely get ‘elevator’ out before Jack’s back to kissing you. 

“If you think,” he pauses so that he can kiss you again, “that I’m going to be anything,” another kiss and a nip to your bottom lip, “other than painfully fucking hard for you,” another kiss, “until I’ve finally come inside of you,” Jack groans as your thumb flicks over his head in just the right spot, “come inside my fucking wife,” those words steal your breath even harder and Jack moves to suck on that spot on your neck he knows is extra sensitive, “you’re fucking insane Doll.” 

“Fuck, okay,” you gasp, as he sucks that spot again, “just wanted to check.” 

He hums a thank you against your lips and you continue like you are until the car starts to slow as you arrive at the hotel. Jack’s quick to slide out of the car and then help you out before you both make a walking sprint to the elevator, the late hour meaning the lobby is pretty much empty. You giggle to yourself as Jack presses you up against the wall of the elevator, your very own movie moment. He groans into your mouth in relief a little now that he can finally grind his hips against yours. 

Jack forces himself to pull away from you as the elevator slows to a stop. Robby already gave him instructions to the room so he doesn’t have to stop and read the signs. He laces your fingers together and leads you to the room, fishing the key from his pocket and opening the door. 

Even with as absolutely fucking wired as you both are for each other, the day catches up with you once you step in the room and see the bed in the honeymoon suite of the fancy downtown hotel you’re staying at for the night. You leave for your honeymoon tomorrow. You’re so fucking ready to know where you’re going. 

You’re both tired and there’s a bit of a lull in the making out and groping as you walk in and both look over the room, though Jack stands right behind you, hands squeezing your hips over your dress and keeping your ass flush against him. He sets both of your phones on the dresser next to you before you take a few more steps in so that you’re almost right at the edge of the bed.

“Can I?” Jack leans into you and murmurs against your neck, fingers running over the part of your dress that will let him start to take you out of it. 

“Please,” you breathe, voice shaking just slightly in anticipation. You had decided on no wedding lingerie that required changing, only what would fit under your dress. Jack wanted the opportunity to slowly strip you out of your wedding dress, said it’s something he’ll only get the chance to do once. And what you have on under your dress is pretty, very bridal, while still practical enough to get you through the wedding. But you have lots of lingerie for the honeymoon all in the carry-on suitcase you packed, including a pair of lacy underwear with his name embroidered in the gusset. 

Jack’s hands tremble a little as he starts to get your dress off you. He takes his time, every movement purposeful and designed to tease both of you a little bit, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your back, lips trailing along your spine and shoulders. He’s careful not to rip anything as he helps the dress fall down your figure and pulls it out from under you once you step out, helps you out of your shoes. He doesn’t let himself look up because he knows if he does he won’t lay your dress out nicely on the couch. You turn as he lays it on the couch so when he turns back to you Jack he’s met with your eyes on him. 

His eyes don’t stay on yours for long though, dropping down and running over your body, stopping for a second at the blue garter on your thigh. 

“I know it’s not proper wedding lingerie, except for the something blue. I suppose it is,” you laugh breathlessly. 

Jack shakes his head slowly. You’re unreal, far and away the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His cock strains against his boxer briefs painfully. “Fuck me,” he groans as he palms himself over his pants, desperate for any friction he can get. “You’re stunning.” Jack walks over to you, pulls his hand off himself only so that he can get his hands on you, let them glide over your bare skin.

“Your turn.” Your trembling hands come to the buttons at Jack’s chest and start unbuttoning them, a few a little more difficult when your hands shake worse as Jack squeezes at your ass and one of your breasts. He pops the clasp of your bra as you finish the last button of his shirt, both of you shrugging out of the items and tossing them aside. Your eyes rake over his chest and arms, pussy throbbing as you do. He’s so handsome you can hardly stand it. “You’re so perfect, Jack.”

You lick your lips to wet your lipstick again and kiss at his collarbones and chest as your nails drag lightly down his stomach. “Fuck,” Jack grunts at the sensation. He rolls one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and kneads at your other breast as your fingers get his belt and pants undone. 

You hook your thumbs in the waistbands of his pants and boxer briefs, rewet your lips and slowly kiss down his stomach and leave lip prints in your wake. “Doll,” Jack husks as you sink to your knees. 

Once you settle on them your thumbs finally drag Jack’s pants and boxer briefs down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach as he shivers. “Peter,” you sigh back at him as you take him in your hand and slowly pump him. Your mouth kisses around the base of him, his balls and inner thighs and lines of his hips, lip prints decorating his skin as Jack groans loudly, eyes unable to leave you. “See?” Your breath fans across his skin as you look up at him through your lashes. “It is your color here.” 

Jack chokes on the laugh your words pull for him when you take his head in your mouth, humming happily as you swirl your tongue around him before taking more of him. “Fucking christ!” Jack grunts, lets his head tip back and eyes flutter closed to focus on the feeling of you bobbing up and down him. 

You hum around him at times, usually when you pull another deep groan from him. You love having Jack in your mouth. Few things make you feel as powerful and sexy. 

Jack’s close. He’s been wound tight for you all day, especially since after the ceremony. He lowers his head back down and opens his eyes. Two fingers hook under your chin. “Up.” 

You pull off him and pout. “Jack,” you whine a little. “Wanna make you come like this.” 

“Next time.” He offers you his hands which you take and stand up. Jack kisses you hard. “The first place I’m coming for my wife is inside her,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Fuck,” you whimper as Jack starts kissing you again. 

“On the bed,” Jack instructs as he pulls his lips off yours. “If you have anything in your hair, take it out so it won’t hurt you.” You do as he asks, situating your hair and then crawling to the middle of the bed and leaning back on your hands so you can watch him. Jack gets his shoes off and then gets on the bed on his knees. He grabs your feet and holds them up, lips finding one of your ankles and starting to kiss up the inside of your legs, head moving back and forth between both legs until he grows closer to the garter. 

His lips stay on the thigh it’s on, kissing around it. “It’s very pretty,” he murmurs, lips teasing your skin. 

“I thought you’d like it,” you pant.

“Love it Doll.” Jack nibbles at the skin of your inner thigh just below your garter and then takes the material between his teeth and pulls it down off your leg. 

“Fuck Jack!” you moan. It’s such a simple move but the way he keeps his eyes on yours the entire time makes it one of the most erotic things he’s ever done for you. 

He’s quick to make his way back up you, grabs the waistband of your underwear and quickly gets them off. You think he’s going to settle with his face in between your thighs but he doesn’t. He nods at you and you lay back on the bed while he kisses up your tummy and chest, stopping to lavish your breasts with attention from his mouth and hands. “Fucking love your tits,” Jack groans against one of your nipples. You thread your hands through his hair and tug a little as your back arches at the feeling of his tongue swirling around it.  

“Jack, please,” you beg, for what you’re not sure. He just feels too good, his hot skin that’s pressing against yours and his mouth on your breasts. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, “I’ve always got you Doll.” Jack kisses his way up your chest to your neck and jaw and then finally your lips. Your legs spread further apart for him and as he makes his way up his right hand slides down and slips between your lips. Jack feels how wet you are the second his middle finger hits your clit. “You’re fucking soaked,” he rasps against your lips, fingers still moving down to feel just how wet you really are. 

“I have been all night,” you admit through a little moan, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit as his fingers tease your cunt, circling around your entrance but never slipping inside. “For my husband. Have needed you all night.”

“Yeah?” Jack pulls back from you a little. “I’ve needed you too.” His hand pulls away from you and you whine at loss. Jack offers you his index and middle finger, the two most coated in you. You maintain eye contact as you open your mouth and let him slide them inside before you suck them clean, running your tongue up and down each finger, moaning softly. Jack’s hips grind into you without conscious thought, his cock hard and heavy against you. “Such a good girl for me,” he coos as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Let me taste you.”

Jack kisses you, licking into your mouth and groaning as he tastes you on your tongue. He shifts a little as he devours you, kissing you with just the right pressure to tease. He doesn’t stop kissing you as the fingers of his left hand trail down you and make you shiver. He’s careful how he does it, keeps all but his fingertips off you until his middle and ring finger tease you again, pressing into you shallowly and withdrawing a few times. “Please Jack!” you keen for him. “Please, need it, need you.”

“Okay, Doll.” Jack’s lips are back on yours as he arches his wrist a little further and slides his two fingers all the way inside of you, curling them perfectly over that spongy spot inside of you.

And you feel it. The cool press of metal against the outside of your pussy. “Jack!” you gasp his name, fingers tugging even harder at the salt and pepper curls you love so much. 

“Yes Doll?” He smirks at you, fingers dragging back out of you before plunging right back in. 

“Your- oh!” Jack steals your breath and your train of thought as he changes his pace and hooks his fingers just a little bit more, fucks you with them a little harder. “Your ring, your wedding ring. I can feel it.” 

“Can you?” Jack hums at you, “Well how about that?” You whimper at his words, know he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. He kisses you again but it doesn’t last particularly long because the feeling of his ring against you and his fingers fucking you perfectly completely steals your ability to kiss him back in any meaningful way, your mouth hanging open a bit as you let out breathy higher pitched moans with each pass of Jack’s fingers. 

“Jack I need you inside me,” you rush out in a single exhale, still moaning intermittently. “Need it. Your cock. Not your fingers. Please.” One of your hands grabs at the wrist of his left hand to still him. And Jack does stop, smirking a little at your desperation. You take a few breaths before looking Jack in the eyes. “First place I’m coming for my husband is on his cock.”

Jack stills and growls at your words as he pulls his fingers from you, rolling a bit so that he’s back properly on top of you and not rolled to the side slightly. He should have seen that one coming, he set himself right up for it with what he said to you. Jack doesn’t offer you his fingers this time, bringing them to his own mouth and sucking them clean. “God!” he groans as he finishes. “You taste so fucking good. My wife tastes so fucking good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod at him, hands slipping between your bodies and grabbing at his cock, trying in vain to guide him inside of you. “Fuck me Jack, please. Fuck your wife!” Your words make Jack shudder. He pulls back so he can watch as he runs his cock through you, letting out a shuddering breath as he does. “Jack, I need you,” you whine at him. 

“I know, Doll, I know. I need you too.” Jack takes himself in his hand and watches as he lines himself up. His chest heaves slightly as he drags his eyes back up to yours and then pushes into you almost agonizingly slow. “Fuck,” Jack draws the word out as slow as he pushes inside of you, both of you fighting through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. 

“Oh, Jack” you moan softly, “more, please more.” 

Jack groans as he leans down and kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip and pulling it taut as you flutter around him. “Shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he pants against your lips. “My perfect wife.” His arms slip under your shoulders so his hands can cradle your face as he pulls his hips back just as slow as he pushed into you. 

“My husband.” Your lips graze his as you breathe the words out. You roll your hips in tandem with Jack so that he’s fucking you a little harder, cunt wrapping around him so tight Jack swears it takes a little more force to pull himself out of you. “Fuck Jack!” you mewl, one hand clawing at his shoulder and the other at his ass cheek for a moment before your fingers squeeze at his muscle.

Jack hisses at the feeling, kissing you passionately, tongue exploring your mouth as though he doesn’t already have you memorized. He keeps his pace languid for now, wants to drag this out for the both of you. You love it, wouldn't have it any other way right now as you drown in Jack and his love and this moment.

The room is filled with the lewd wet sound of your pussy and heavy pants against skin as Jack ceases his greediness and lets your tongue into his mouth. He instinctively chuckles a little with how eagerly you take advantage of the opportunity, head lifting off the bed a little for a few seconds as you kiss him.   

As much as he doesn’t want to Jack pulls apart so you both can breathe. “What are you?” He asks through heaving breaths, eyes reflecting how on fire he is for you, practically pinning you to the bed. “Tell me what you are.” 

“Your- fuck Jack!” He changes his rhythm on you just slightly and it has you stuttering. “Your, your wife.” Tears of pleasure start to burn behind your eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises you, words pulling a loud moan from you just like he knew they would. Jack fucks you with his whole body, hunched over and using his hips and back and thighs to drive himself into you, muscles rippling under your fingertips. He can’t get deep enough, can’t feel enough of you, can’t be close enough to you. “That’s fucking right you are. My wife. All fucking mine.” 

“Say it for me,” you plead with Jack, tears of pleasure finally dripping down the sides of your face. “Tell me what you are.” 

Jack laughs softly against your lips as he pulls your legs up around his waist to change the angle. “Your husband,” he rasps at your ear. “I’m your husband.”  

You whine as he says it, trail off into a breathy moan of his name. “Jack!” Your nails claw into his skin, leaving trails of red marks in their wake as one hand slides down his back and the other up his ass cheek to his hip, pulling a choked groan from the back of Jack’s throat. “I’m so close. So close baby, please!” It’s not often you call him baby, and something about the word always makes him short circuit a bit. 

He picks his pace up, snaps his hips a bit harder, sucking and nibbling at your neck as he buries his face there for a moment as he gets lost in the feeling of you, breath hot against your skin. Fucking you and making love to you is always mindblowing, but this is different, this has an edge, for both of you. Because you’re married. Because it feels like your first time all over again in a way. 

“Just like that, yes! Don’t stop!” you moan, voice high-pitched and breathy.

Jack’s just as desperate for your orgasm as you are, breath heavy and hot against your lips. “Come for me Doll, come for me.” Jack’s voice is strained with his desperation, hips driving him into you over and over while his fingers circle your clit. “Come on my cock, come on your husband’s cock. Make me come.” 

“I will, I will,” you cry for him, eyes fluttering closed and sending more tears down your face as the pleasure overwhelms you and builds to a breaking point.

“Look at me,” Jack pants, voice cracking on the last word. “Look at me while you come for your husband.” You force your eyes open and Jack’s staring down at you intensely. “Be my good little wife and come for me.”

His command and the way he’s looking at you like he needs you so desperately he’d do anything for you, like you’re the only thing that matters, like the most beautiful and precious thing to him that he has to protect, and like he needs this, you to come, are more than enough to make you shatter beneath him.

“Jack!” You get a single cry of his name out before all words fall out of your mind, completely overwhelmed by Jack, by your husband, as your orgasm sears through what feels like every nerve in your body. Your nails drag along Jack’s back so hard you might have broken skin in a few places but he doesn’t care, it just shoves him closer to the edge. “Oh fuck Jack, please!” you moan once words return, again unsure of what you’re begging him for.

“Shit! So fucking tight”! Jack struggles to hold himself off, does only for thirty or so seconds so that he can drink in your face as you come for him while he fucks you through it. “My wife’s so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me.” He pulls his hand away from your clit before you hit painful overstimulation. “Fuck, Doll, I’m gonna come, pussy’s squeezing me so tight, gonna come for you, fill you up, and you’ll be so good for me and take it all.” He starts to babble and his hips start to falter, a clear sign he’s right at the edge. 

“Come for me Jack,” you purr at him, hands threading back into his hair and tugging at the root just to give him a little shock of pain opposite the pleasure how you know he loves. You’re looking at Jack much the same as he looked at you, like you love him so much it hurts sometimes, like you’d walk straight through a wall of flames for him. Your love overwhelms him, you overwhelm him. And then you say it as a soft moan and he’s gone. “Come for your wife.”

Jack comes with the most erotic, carnal groan of your name that you’ve ever heard from him. His orgasm rips through him, tears through him so intensely it steals his breath for a moment before a slurry of curse words and my wife and so perfect fall off his tongue like a hymn he’s composed just for you. His hips still but you roll yours up against him and clench around him deliberately. “Fucking shit, Doll! Fuck!” Jack groans, voice and neck and face strained as you prolong his orgasm, somehow pull a bit more cum from him. 

“Feels so good when you come in me,” you hum all pleasure-drunk and breathy at Jack. Your face matches your voice. You look so fucked out and beautiful below him, his girl. His woman. His wife. 

“Oh fuck!” Jack grunts, a shiver running up his spine hard as an aftershock hits him. “Fuck, Doll, you’re so fucking good.” He collapses on top of you carefully. 

You tremble under him a little, arms and legs wrapping around him and holding him to you tight. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Abbot.” It’s almost a little slurred as you come back down from your orgasm.

Another shiver races up Jack’s spine at doctor. “Never had a title kink before you.” His lips brush against your chest as he speaks before nuzzling against you. It’s not the first time he’s told you that, but you still love to hear it.

You can only hum in acknowledgment, let your hands find his hair and run through his curls, scratch at his scalp intermittently. The two of you lay there in a comfortable silence, murmuring soft words to each other. Jack nuzzles into you and kisses at your chest wherever he can reach, enjoys listening to your heartbeat and how it slowly returns to something closer to normal. 

After a while Jack nuzzles into your chest one last time before pulling his head up. You open your eyes knowing he’ll be looking down at you. He’s smiling when he comes into focus. “How’s my wife?”

“I’m pretty fucking great,” you murmur, blissed out smile on your face. “Feeling very, very well and thoroughly fucked by my husband. A little sleepy.” You bring your hand up and run your fingers through Jack’s curls, push back a few that sweat has stuck to his forehead. “How’s my husband?”

Jack chuckles at you. You’re so adorable when you’re all fucked out like this. “Oh, I’m pretty fucking great too, Doll.” He leans down and kisses you. “Feeling very, very lucky to call you my wife. And I’m with you on the sleepy.” 

You already know what he’s going to say based on the look on his face. “No!” you whine, wrap your arms and legs around him tight. “Let’s just stay right here. It’ll be fine this one time, we can just curl up like this and fall asleep.”

Jack laughs and shakes his head at you. “I’m not sure now’s the time to risk it, baby. You don’t want to start our honeymoon with a UTI.” He takes another kiss. “And we both know you’ll be upset with yourself in the morning if you don’t take all your makeup off. Plus I should really wipe the lipstick off.” 

You groan but loosen your grip on him when he pulls away, both of you hissing a little as he slips out of you. Jack holds his hands out for you and helps you up and off the bed. His hands find a hip and your waist quickly once you’re standing, ready to grab you and keep you from falling if your legs are too weak. You lean into him for just a second while you get your legs steady back under you and then nod at Jack. 

He keeps an arm around your waist anyway, just to keep you close. You realize step into the bathroom and Jack flicks the light on, leads you over to the toilet. He walks to the sink as you go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and wiping the lipstick from his skin. 

You join him when you’re done, washing your hands as he washes his face. You make a face of consideration as he pats his face dry. “I could just leave it for one night, I’m tired.”

Jack shakes his head at you and you know he’s right, you’re just not in the mood. It’s been a long day and you just want to curl up in bed with your husband. Jack puts a towel on the sink counter, and pats it. “Up.” 

You debate fighting him because you know what’s about to happen. But you also know that Jack loves this part and it’s not something that happens frequently because you normally take your makeup off as soon as you get home. You slide yourself onto the towel as Jack pulls out your makeup remover wipes from the toiletry bag you packed. “Probably going to have to scrub pretty good,” you tell him, “she used the good setting spray.” 

Jack nods as he starts to wipe your face. “Very good setting spray,” he notes absentmindedly as he works. He does have to use more pressure than normal. “Tell me if I start hurting you.” 

“I will, but you won’t.” You give him a sleepy smile and Jack’s heart aches with how cute you are. 

Once he’s gotten everything off your face he’s weary as he eyes your lashes. “Are these the lashes designed to stay on or? How do I get them off?”

“You’re so cute,” you giggle at him, beaming at him because they’re such Jack questions. He’s always curious, especially when it comes to you and things he can do to take care of you. 

“What?” he drags the word out. “I don’t want to accidentally rip off all your eyelashes!”

“I know, you’re just the cutest, wanting to know. Caring enough to want to know.” You push your lips out and he gives you the quick kiss you’re seeking. “These ones aren’t designed to stay on, no. There’s some cotton balls and makeup remover in the bag. Just put some on two of them and hold them on for a minute and they should peel right off.”

“Can do, Doll.” Jack nods. He does and goes to take them off but hesitates. “Okay, maybe you should at least do one. So I can see.” 

Even with your eyes closed you smirk. “See one, do one, teach one?” Jack huffs at you and you know he’s rolling his eyes. “You have to admit that was pretty good.” You slowly peel one off. 

“It was,” Jack agrees with fake begrudging. He loves it. Loves how you listen and really take in what he says whether it’s when he’s directly speaking to you or if you happen to be watching him from just within earshot at work. “Okay. Please tell me if you feel me pulling your actual lashes.” 

“Were you this scared when you first did sutures on someone?” 

“Doll.”

“Yes, yes I’ll tell you,” you reassure him.

“Okay.” Jack grabs the other lash and pulls it off without issue, like you knew he would. 

“See? Nothing to it.” You squint at him to avoid getting the makeup remover in your eyes. “We’ll make you a makeup artist yet, Peter.” Your squinting kills any power the smirk you try to give him might have had.

He ignores your comment with a little shake of his head and smile. “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t because you spend time practicing on fake skin before you go to a real human.”

You hum at him and slip off the counter. It’s going to be easier and quicker for you to wash your face and brush your teeth. “Thank you. For taking my makeup off and learning about eyelashes for me. I love you.” You wrap your arms around the middle of him and rest your head on his chest. 

“Always, Doll.” Jack bows his head and leans a little to press his lips to the top of your head. “And I love you too.” 

The two of you stand like that for a moment before you pull away and quickly wash your face before you and Jack brush your teeth at the same time. You say fuck it to your skin care for one night and just put some face lotion on, offer some to Jack. Once you’re done Jack turns around and after a second you do too. 

Your stomach drops a little. “Oh my god Jack!” His back is covered in scratches from your nails that are really more raised welts at this point. It looks incredibly painful and your head starts to spin because you feel so bad for doing that to him.

“What?” He spins quickly, brows furrowed and lips pulled down, concern all over his face. 

“Your back! That’s what!” You gesture with your finger and he spins for you again. “Jack, it has to hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?”

He turns back to look at you. He doesn’t like your expression, the sadness in your eyes and your frown and the way your brows are furrowed so close together. You’re upset and Jack can tell your mind is starting to swirl. “Hey, hey hey. I promise you I didn’t even notice. I promise. I wouldn’t have even known if you hadn’t said anything.”

“But Jack, it’s bad. I did a good number to you. They’re welts, not just scratches.” Your frown deepens. 

He steps closer to you and cups your face with his hands. “Doll, I promise you it felt so fucking good when you were making them in the moment but they haven’t bothered me at all since.” 

“You promise?” you whisper. You know he would never lie to you and you can see the earnestness in his eyes. It slows your mind, as do his hands holding your face.

“I promise.” He nods. His eyes drop to your neck and chest, hands letting go of your face. “Have you really looked in the mirror yet Doll?”

“Kind of?” Your brows are still drawn together but Jack’s relieved it’s in confusion this time and that your upset has faded. 

“You should. Because I did a good number on your neck and chest too,” Jack grimaces a little. “And it feels much worse than some scratches now that I’m really looking at them.”

You turn and look in the mirror. “Oh,” you breathe. Jack’s head starts to spin now. But then a smile grows on your face. “I love this.” You run your fingertips over some of them. 

“What?” Jack gives a small incredulous laugh. 

You turn around to look at him and see the way he’s still spinning out a little like you were. “Jack, I love this shit. I love wearing your marks. And you gave me them as my husband and I get to have them on our honeymoon.”

“They’ll darken and be worse tomorrow.” He still eyes you a little wearily. 

You meet his eyes in the mirror, can see he’s still spinning out a little like you were. “Good. I hope they get darker the day after that.”

“Yeah?” It’s the same as you asking if he promised. He knows you wouldn’t lie and can tell you’re not but he just needs to hear it again. 

“Yeah.” You nod with a small smile. “Very fucking yeah.”

That makes him crack a smile, yours widening in turn, his mind slowing. You turn back to face him. “Are they going to be all on display for the honeymoon?” You press yourself up against him. 

Jack laughs. You’re trying to get a hint as to where you’re going on your honeymoon, hoping he’ll answer and it’ll give you insight as to whether you’ll be spending a lot of time with your chest not covered by a shirt in a swimsuit. 

He gives you a self-satisfied grin and you start pouting before he even says anything. “That’s for me to know and you to find out babygirl.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately but it turns into a big yawn that has you covering your mouth. Jack laughs softly. “Come on sleepy girl, lets get into bed.” He fights back his own yawn while following you as you walk back to bed, flicking the light off. 

You climb in under the covers while Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes his prosthetic off. Once it’s off he flips the lamp off and slides in beside you, hands on your waist and pulling you close as you move toward him. You snuggle together on your sides, limbs tangling as you get as close as possible while still able to see each other. “Hi handsome.” You smile up at Jack and kiss up his chest and neck to his lips. 

“Hi beautiful,” Jack murmurs against your lips. “My beautiful wife. Today was pretty perfect.” Jack takes another couple of kisses from you before pulling away and looking back at you. He swallows thickly. “A little surreal. We’re married.” He’s not dwelling, he’s really not.

But Jack lived in a world where he never even got to ask you to marry him, where he wore his dress blues not to wait for you at the end of an aisle on an altar but to watch them lower you six feet into the ground, even if it was only in his mind. He just has to acknowledge it one last time. It makes him appreciate this, appreciate you all the more. 

“Sure was. My handsome husband.” You giggle against Jack’s lips. “But it’s real. We’re married.” You look at Jack and smile as he smiles back at you. 

Your smiles and crinkles in the corners of your eyes say everything to each other. Thank you, you’re perfect, you’re my best friend and soulmate and the love of my life, you’re my everything, my whole world and my home, I meant every word I said today and will be faithful to the vows we took. I love you. 

Your eyelids get heavy fast as Jack’s warmth seeps into you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You can only fight it for so long as it gets harder and harder to open your eyes with every slow blink. There’s so much you want to say to him even now at the end of your wedding day when it feels like you’ve already said it all to each other. But there’s no way you’ll get anything coherent out. So you kiss Jack one more time and settle for the words you hope convey it all.

“I love you, Peter.” 

Jack hums a little laugh to himself because you’re adorable and precious and beautiful and his. His wife.

“I love you more, Doll.”

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

If you made it this far, again, thank you so so much! I hope you enjoyed this part and the series. As much as this is the end of the kind of main story, I don’t think this is truly the end for them. Certainly I have a whole list of other ideas that I’d like to work through first, but I have a couple of ideas for shorter one-shot style fics for these two. If you have anything in particular you'd like to see from them feel free to drop me a note wherever!! And I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on Part 5 and their ending!♥️

Quiet Part 2 is up next. I should have more free time this week and don't plan on making those parts as long so hopefully something will be out towards the end of the week!

Also, a huge huge shoutout to @loveyhoneydovey for beta-ing at times, talking me off a thousand ledges per part, and listening to me go on and on about these two and different ideas. This story is better because of your help. ♥️

Want more Jack? Find my masterlist here!

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Tag list:

@love-affair-with-fandoms @mstrsgoodgrl0628 @equallyshaw @kmc1989 @artsymaddie @moonshooter @whiskeyhowlett-writes @smallcarbigwheels @hawkswildfireheart @blackwidownat2814 @yxtkiwiyxt @viridian-dagger @andabuttonnose @beebeechaos @pear-1206 @starkgaryan @travelingmypassion @marvelcasey05 @daydreamingallthetime-world @millenialcatlady @nursejuju86 @escapefromrealitysm @emilia527 @satanxklaus @frazie99 @kastleandmurdock @guardiancardigan @zoctopiii @4rosabellaa @adissapointmentlol @nowandajenn @book-of-roses @redzscare @concentratedconcrete @freshbearbouquetblr @qardasngan @practicalghost @wolviehugh @athena1504 @a-stari-night @iamcryingonceagain @acn87 @moonpascal @lostfleurs @beltzboys2015-blog @pouges-world @tinyharrypotterkpopfriend @roseanddaggerlarry @lauraneedstochill

[fandomtcikles]

I’m going to get you

Curtesy of the amazing prompt of @just-a-fluffy-knight, this is just a short and sweet lil Drabble of the moonknight boys. Soooo yeah hope you guys like this even though I high key hate it 👍

(Also side note I’m really sorry about the quality of this guys, like I mentioned I’m really new to fics and writing, and this is way more rushed than I would have liked so again please bear with the quality 😭)

Marc had been in a bit of a mood all day. Not necessary a bad one just, a mood. Steven couldn’t put his finger on what it was and why he was acting like this but honestly he wasn’t complaining. Marc was usually the tough guy of the trio (well along with Jake obviously) but today he seemed to have let his guard down more. It was rare for anyone to see Marc like this so Stephen decided not to take it for granted, and tried to match Marc’s new playful mood whenever he could.

Later than afternoon Stephen was sitting on the sofa enjoying one of his books when all of a sudden he felt a puff of air in his ear from behind him, causing him to let out a yelp and drop his book. As he leant down to pick it up he heard a familiar laugh from behind him, and rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but smile fondly as he realised it was Marc pulling yet another joke on him that day.

“Marc you twat! you made me lose my page” he chuckled. Marc only laughed in return and playfully knocked his arm “eh sorry Stevo that was too an opportunity to miss”. Steven couldn’t help but give him a curious look. “Can I ask what’s going on with you today, I mean I never see you this playful”. Marc only shrugged in return, that same shit eating grin still on his face, but Steven wasn’t giving up that easily. “I’m being serious Marc, I mean come on if I acted like this around you, you would have bloody wrecked me by now”.

Marc just laughed again, however this time he sounded slightly more nervous, which just intrigued Steven even further, especially when he noticed a faint blush spread across the other man’s face. It took Steven a minute before everything finally clicked, and he couldn’t help but grin wildly at the realisation. Marc of course noticed this and couldn’t help but get insanely nervous by the mischievous glint in Stevens eye.

“Whhaat?” Marc giggled nervously. Steven only continued to grin as he stood up from the couch and started making his way towards Marc who was on the other end of the couch. “You know Marc if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s almost like you’re asking to be wrecked” he grinned evilly as he got closer to Marc. “Steven whhat the hell are you talking about” as his nervous giggles kicked up an notch. “Oh come on Marc you’ve been such a pain in the neck all day you honestly would have been better off just asking for this you know that” “Steven I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about!” Marc choked out in between peals of nervous laughter as Steven stood right in front of him, that same evil grin still on his face.

“I’m gonna get you” “Steven I swear to-“ and before he even had the chance to fully finish threatening him, Steven had pinned him across the couch and shoved his hands under his arms causing Marc to practically screech, and throw his head back in frantic laughter. “Wow and I’m barely even touching you” Steven chuckled to himself as he decided to add to the torture and give Marc a taste of his own medicine by blowing in his ear as he had done earlier, which proved to be highly effective and caused Marc to let out a squeal, much to his embarrassment. Steven found this to be absolutely hysterical and couldn’t help but make a jab about it, “you know Marc let’s make this a lesson, don’t give out what you can’t take”

“Shut up” he choked out between laughter in a failed attempt to sound tough, and Steven gasped in mock offence. “How rude Marc, you know I happen to think that this is a very important lesson for you to learn, in fact let’s start right now”

Marc’s nervous laughter kicked up a notch once again, he didn’t like where this is going.

“Now let’s see, well you always start with this” as he latched his hands onto Marc’s ribs, causing Marc to physically wheeze and fall back into even more frantic laughter. “Mmh can’t seem to handle this either huh Marc, I’ll keep that in mind for later “. Marc was too flustered to even respond and could only try and hide his face in the couch which Steven found adorable. “Aw Marc why are you trying to hide, this is precious” he chuckled knowing full well Marc wouldn’t be able to handle this either, which Marc only proved by shoving his face further into the couch as a blush spread further across his face. Steven only chuckled fondly at the squealing man below him.

“You alright Marc?”. The poor guy could barely get any words out for laughter, but he did eventually manage. “Steven you’re dead after this I swear”, however it didn’t take much for Steven to see through this. “Sure Marc, sure” he chuckled fondly again.

As much as he was enjoying this long overdue payback, he decided to give Marc a bit of a break and slowed to gentle rubs on his sides to get rid of the phantom tickles, which Marc responded to with a shy smile. “You sure you’re ok Marc?”

Marc was honestly too flustered to even answer, so just let out a little grunt instead, that giddy smile refusing to leave his face, much to his dismay.

“Don’t worry Marc, there’s only one more thing I want to try out”. Marc looked up at him nervously. There was no way this was going to be good. And his suspicions were confirmed when Steven started pushing up his shirt with that same playful smirk on his face.

“No Steven I swear don’t do it, this isn’t funny I -“ but once again Marc was cut off before he even had the chance to finish, by the feeling of Steven blowing a massive raspberry on his stomach. The feeling gave him such a shock that he let out the biggest squeal he had ever done, and collapsed into pure belly laughter as he frantically tried to squirm out of Stevens hold to escape the feeling. However Steven was not away to let him get away that easily, and ended up blowing as many raspberries as he could on Marc’s stomach, and to give the full effect, he would nuzzle into Marc’s stomach, growling playfully.

Poor Marc was in pure hysterics, and felt like he was losing his damn mind cause of the feeling and pretty soon, even Steven realised that he was tapping out. To make sure Marc didn’t pass out on him, he finished him off by giving him a couple of final nuzzles, causing Marc to let out a string of precious giggles, before he eventually calmed down. He turned to look at Steven who was smiling at him fondly, and he just shook his head still trying to hide his grin. “You’re an asshole you know that right?”. “Yeah I know”.

Edit - thank you sm for love on this guys it means the world to me ❤️😭

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (3)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Fun fact: the final scene of this chapter is part of my original brainstorm for this fic. The rest of the scenes I initially dreamt up won’t come until much later, so I’m thrilled to have at least one of them come early on in the story. 

To Carrie and Anna, the lights of my life: I named the neighbor after you two. She’s annoying as shit and nothing like either of you, but I needed a name and decided if anyone deserves to have their name as an Easter egg, it’s the two of you. 

*****

Despite the storm, Matty has the shipment of borrowed guns delivered to the Port of Houston in the middle of the night. While they eat breakfast, Mac and Riley study Matty’s excruciatingly detailed directions for navigating the port and finding their shipping crate. She certainly didn’t make it easy on them. 

Riley leans back in her chair, looking around until her eyes land on Harley. “Time for you to earn your keep,” she says between mouthfuls of toast. 

Supposedly, this is what Harley specializes in—sniffing out weapons. The dog should be able to confirm which shipping container the guns are stashed in without Mac or Riley having to check themselves. Theoretically. 

Mac finishes his own plate of eggs and toast in a few ravenous bites. “Thanks for making breakfast.” He gets up to clear the plates and start rinsing dishes. After living with her for more than a year, Riley making breakfast is routine, but Mac still thanks her for it every day. 

Living in the apartment together, they fall right back into their old habits. Mac wakes up early and goes for a run. By the time he returns, Riley is awake and making breakfast. After they eat, Mac showers while Riley goes on her own run. And so on and so forth. 

While Mac was out this morning, he wove through the whole neighborhood, making sure it’s safe for Riley to go out alone. She can handle herself, but Mac has no delusions about the overall quality of men on the streets, and even though he can’t fix that, at least he can help minimize her chances of encountering creepy dudes. 

Before they leave for the Port, Mac and Riley scour their car for a bug or any other surveillance equipment the organization might’ve hidden while they were inside the warehouse talking to Conrad yesterday. They find none. Thankfully. 

Once again, they’re going in armed, and the weight of Mac’s gun feels just as foreign and unwelcome as it did yesterday. He tries not to fidget with it while Riley drives, but she notices his discomfort anyway. “You’ve got to relax,” she says. “All your squirming is stressing me out.” 

“Sorry.” Mac stills, even though his whole body screams to put the gun somewhere else. 

Anywhere else. 

Once they arrive at the Port, Mac guides Riley through the maze of cranes and crates and warehouses until they find the one Matty had the guns stashed in—dark green and otherwise nondescript. 

Unfortunately, there are multiple shipping containers that fit that description at the location Matty provided. As they get out of the SUV, Riley glances between the boxes nervously. “Uhh, which one is it?” 

Mac doesn’t have a clue. “I guess that’s for Harley to tell us.” He looks down at the dog standing obediently beside him. “Find it.” 

He releases the leash as Harley takes off like a rocket, sniffing each container and the surrounding area. She inspects more than half of them before sitting and looking back at Mac. He waits for her to bark, but she doesn’t. Whoever trained her clearly did so with stealth in mind. 

“Do we open it to double check?” Riley asks. 

Mac opens his mouth to say yes, but he doesn’t get a chance to answer before a muddy, dark-blue diesel truck parks beside their SUV. Conrad jumps out of the driver’s seat, accompanied by two younger men, wearing matching scowls and Carhartt jackets. He walks with that same entitled swagger, and a cheap smile spreads across his face. 

“Mr. Turner!” Conrad exclaims, shaking Mac’s hand. His grip is too firm to be friendly. Stepping back, he sneers at Riley, acknowledging her just long enough to impatiently say, “Genevieve.” Mac doesn’t miss the way Conrad’s eyes drop to Riley’s chest, nor the way Riley bristles beside him, wrapping her jacket more tightly around her and crossing her arms to hold it in place. Mac clears his throat. “Sorry,” Conrad says, not sounding sorry at all, “but your wife is very attractive.” 

Riley rolls her eyes so hard they nearly fall out of her head. 

“Your order is this way,” Mac says, cutting off Conrad before he could make another gross statement, “Follow me.” Mac puts a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, squeezing hard as he steers the man toward the shipping container. Harley is still sitting beside it, waiting patiently, and Mac scratches her head with his free hand. 

Riley whistles, a single sharp note that sends Harley running back to her side. Mac buries his relief that she’s not alone, although he’d still much rather the hulking bodyguards were closer to him than Riley. 

Focus, Mac reminds himself. Riley can hold her own. Just get this over with. 

Mac opens the container, revealing two nondescript wooden crates. Still sneering—at this point, Mac’s starting to think that’s the only expression Conrad is capable of—Conrad waves over his bodyguards, gesturing for them to open the crates. 

For just a second, Conrad’s sneer edges toward a smile. Inside the crates lie exactly what he ordered: military-grade, semi-automatic rifles and enough ammo to kickstart the apocalypse. Mac’s gut churns. He hates this. He hates everything about this. He hates that he’s arming terrorists. He hates how these men look at Riley like dogs drooling over a steak. He hates that he can’t do anything about any of it, that he has no choice but to play along. 

Mac wishes he could bury his feelings the way Riley does, locking them behind a carefully controlled mask. Instead, his linger just beneath the surface, waiting to make themselves known at the first available opportunity. 

Counting backward from five, he steels himself to finish the game. Just as Conrad brushes a reverent finger down the barrel of a rifle, Mac chides, “We followed through on our end of the bargain. Did you?” 

“Of course.” 

One of the bodyguards pulls out his phone. In a deeper voice than Mac expects, he says, “We can wire the payment to your bank account right now.” 

“Good. My wife will help you set that up.” Mac gestures to Riley, and the bodyguard walks over to her. 

Conrad extends his hand, and Mac takes it, trying not to wince when his arm brushes his concealed gun. “Pleasure doing business with you, James,” Conrad says. 

“I hope this is the beginning of a long and prosperous partnership.” Long and prosper? Who was he, Spock? 

“Indeed. Welcome to the Patriots.” Conrad gestures for his men to start loading the guns into their truck. “Expect another order within the week.” 

Mac doesn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully he doesn’t have to, because Riley waves him over, apparently having finished her conversation with Conrad’s lackey. “I’ll leave you to it,” Mac says, then turns his back on the terrorists and rejoins Riley. On instinct, he reaches for her arm as he murmurs, “Are you okay?” 

Riley tenses under his touch, but doesn’t pull away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Good.” He said the same thing to Conrad just a minute ago. Good. But the word is light years different from before—soft and caring, not curt and vaguely challenging. Bozer pointed it out to him once, how he talks to Riley differently than he does anyone else. 

Mac shakes off the thought. He can’t get distracted, no matter how much his mind only wants to think about Riley. Releasing her arm, he says, “Let’s get out of here.”

*****

Back at the apartment, Riley settles in on the couch to dig into the Patriots' bank records. By wire-transferring the money instead of paying them in cash, Conrad practically offered up the organization's entire digital footprint on a silver platter, at least to someone like Riley. She doesn't speak as she works, so Mac listens to the melody of keyboard clicks while he makes them each a grilled cheese. 

Contrary to popular belief, he's not completely incompetent, although Bozer has nearly everyone convinced otherwise. Mac will never be able to cook something fancy, but he does make a mean sandwich. 

He even spreads mayo on the bread, the way Bozer does, because Riley prefers it that way. 

The sizzle of the sandwiches hitting the hot pan joins the keyboard clicks right as Riley announces, "I hacked into their bank records." 

"What've you got?" 

"From the look of it, the shell corp they used to pay us has only been around for four months. Before that, they must've either paid in cash or used personal accounts." 

"That makes sense though, since the Patriots haven't been around all that long." 

"That's what I thought at first, but come look." Mac does, leaning over the back of the couch so his head is right beside hers. Riley points at the screen. "The first three transactions were all big deposits, each one two weeks apart." 

Frowning, Mac squints at the tiny numbers on the screen. "One hundred thousand dollars?" 

"Times three deposits," Riley adds. 

"Where the hell did they get that kind of money?"

"I don't know. The deposits were cash." 

“Damn. Did you at least figure out who their previous arms dealer was?” 

“Yeah.” Riley shifts, causing her hair to tickle Mac’s nose, and he brushes her hair to the opposite side of her neck without another thought. “Turns out their previous dealer has Mexican cartel connections, which explains why the Patriots only paid them twice. I’m guessing they found out about the cartel part and broke it off before they made a long-term deal.” 

“At least they’re not complete idiots,” Mac mumbles. Tired of squinting, he leans closer to better see the screen. 

Except now they’re cheek to cheek, and Mac suddenly can’t focus on the screen at all. 

Riley twists to look at him, and it takes every ounce of Mac’s willpower not to glance at her lips. "Are you burning my grilled cheese?" 

"No." He straightens, simultaneously disappointed and relieved by the space now between them. Mac shakes off the thought. He can’t keep getting distracted like this. 

"Uh huh. Sure." 

Retreating to the kitchen, Mac calls, "That was one time!"

*****

As expected, they don’t hear anything from Conrad or the Patriots the following day. Mac doesn’t know what to do with all the downtime on this op. There are plenty of books in the apartment, but he’s too restless to sit and read. He opens the fridge, more out of boredom than actual hunger. 

They’re on day five of the undercover op, and it’s starting to feel an awful lot like quarantine. With nothing to do but hurry up and wait, hanging out in the apartment and doing nothing is starting to make Mac go a little stir crazy. 

When Riley emerges from the bedroom wearing workout clothes, it’s clear she feels the same way. “I’m going for a run,” she announces. 

“Want company?” He hopes she says yes. Anything to get out of the apartment for a while. 

Riley unplugs her phone from the charger and slides it into her pocket. “No offense, but no.” 

Dammit. Mac shoves down his disappointment. “None taken.” He closes the fridge. Nothing in there looks good. 

“Tell you what,” she says. “After I get back we can go to the space museum, okay?” 

His heart skips a beat at her offer. “Is it that obvious I’m bored?” 

“Yes.” Riley gives him a pitying smile. “So do you want to go?” 

Mac smiles. It feels like she just asked him out on a date. It’s not, but it feels like one anyway. Be cool. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” 

“Okay then.” Popping in her earbuds, she walks out the door. 

“Enjoy your run, muffin!” Mac calls, stealing Bozer’s go-to pet name for when he’s undercover with Riley. She reaches back inside to flip him off before slamming the door shut, and Mac chuckles. Riley really hates that nickname.

Now it’s just him, Harley, and this tiny apartment. 

Resuming his search for food he’s not even hungry for, Mac opens the pantry, and Harley comes running into the kitchen. She must’ve learned the sound of the door opening since they keep the dog food in there. Harley looks up at Mac expectantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” She whines, and her pleading expression reminds Mac of the wide-eyed look Bozer mastered as a kid while begging his parents for something. Neither are very effective. “You just had breakfast an hour ago,” he insists.  

Harley glances at the open pantry, then back at him. 

Mac doesn’t give in, but he does kneel to pet her instead, scratching Harley’s neck and ending up with a handful of hair. Frowning, Mac digs through every drawer in the kitchen in search of a dog brush. No luck. He checks the bedroom and bathroom, coming up empty once again. Who even organized this house? It makes no sense. His gaze lands on the laundry room door. 

Ah. 

Sure enough, there’s a dog brush on the shelf above the washing machine. 

Leash and brush in-hand, Mac calls out, “Alright, girl. Let’s go de-floof you.” 

Harley takes one look at the brush and sprints in the other direction. 

Well this is going to be harder than Mac anticipated. 

He ends up chasing Harley throughout the apartment, zig-zagging from one room to the next. Every time Mac gets close, Harley slips by, just out of reach. After the fourth time she sends Mac stumbling into the furniture after lunging for her and missing, he realizes what she’s doing. 

Harley is playing him. This is a game to her. And, so far, she’s winning. 

Mac stares the dog down, and she seems to narrow her eyes in response. “Challenge accepted,” he tells her. 

This time, he knows exactly where to find what he’s looking for—peanut butter. He smears an unnecessarily large glob into Harley’s dog bowl, making sure she sees exactly what he’s doing. Harley’s stubborn, and does a good job of appearing not to care, but Mac has a hard time believing any dog would turn down peanut butter. 

Harley, it turns out, is no exception. 

She follows him to the door, and Mac rewards her with a few licks of peanut butter while he clips on the leash, careful not to let her eat so much that there’s not enough to last while brushing her. Despite Harley’s obvious enjoyment of the peanut butter, Mac is no fool. She let him win this round, no doubt about it. 

He leads Harley down the stairs to the small lawn in front of the apartment building, where it wouldn’t matter if he left dog hair everywhere. The brush pulls away thick chunks of her undercoat with each pass, and it doesn’t take long for the lawn to look like something died there. 

The peanut butter, unfortunately, doesn’t last nearly as long as Mac hopes. 

Mac figures out pretty quickly that Harley does not like her tail being brushed; she turns away and tucks her tail and generally makes it impossible for Mac to reach it. He sits back on his heels, formulating a new strategy. “If I don’t brush your tail,” he says, “you’re going to look like a squirrel, and neither of us wants that.” 

Harley’s ears prick at the word squirrel. 

Mac tries again, and this time Harley lets him…sort of. It’s not perfect, but at least she won’t be leaving hair all over the apartment anymore—hair that he needs to vacuum, because Riley asked him to last night and he’d completely forgotten until now. Tucking the brush into his back pocket, Mac scratches Harley’s ears the way he learned she likes, and when she leans into his touch, Mac’s heart swells. 

“Good girl.” He kisses her head, and Harley licks his chin in return. “See? We’re not so bad.” Mac sighs. “I know we’re not who you wanted, but we’re going to take good care of you.” 

Riley made the same promise in the war room. Even if she doesn’t stay with them after the op, Mac will make sure Harley ends up with people who will love her for the rest of her life. 

“I promise,” he murmurs into her fur, kissing her head again.

Mac startles when a feminine voice calls, “You could make a whole other dog from all that hair.” A middle-aged woman stands in the walkway, oversized blue purse on her shoulder and car keys in hand. She smiles at Mac. “I haven’t seen you before. Did you just move in?” 

“Yeah,” Mac says, standing up. “My wife and I moved in this week.” 

“Well, welcome. My name is Carrie Ann, and my husband and I live in apartment 317. Feel free to stop by anytime. I think you’ll like living here, though I must warn you that it gets pretty loud during football season.” 

Mac nods. “Nice to meet you. I’m James.” He expects Carrie Ann to keep walking—presumably to her car—but she doesn’t, and Mac suddenly gets the feeling this conversation is about to be much longer than he wants. 

“And who is this cutie?” she asks, directing her attention to the dog. 

“This is Harley.” 

Carrie Ann sounds like a squeaker toy, greeting Harley in a voice so high-pitched it’s almost inhuman and petting her without bothering to ask for permission. Harley eyes the woman warily but surprisingly sits still. “I love dogs,” she says at a mercifully normal decibel. “Sadly my husband is allergic.” 

“That is unfortunate.” Mac shifts from foot to foot, eager to escape the small talk. He’s never really had the patience for it. 

Carrie Ann, it seems, is completely oblivious to his discomfort. She prattles on, asking asinine questions about what he does for work, if he’s been to the coffee place down the street, and when she can meet his wife. 

Mac doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse when Riley appears in his peripheral vision, as if on cue. “Actually,” he says to Carrie Ann, “you can meet her right now.” Mac flashes Riley a wide, bright smile that she returns half-heartedly, chest still heaving after her run. Sweat glistens on her body, and a few wispy curls that escaped her ponytail are now plastered to her face. “This is my wife, Genevieve.” 

Giving Harley a quick scratch, Riley stands beside him, close enough that Mac can feel the heat radiating off her body. Instinctively, he starts to put a hand on her back, but he quickly pulls away. She’s not wearing a shirt—only a sports bra and those stupidly tight leggings—and the intimacy of putting his hand on her bare skin is too much to handle. “Hi,” she says, completely oblivious to Mac’s internal panic. 

Carrie Ann introduces herself again, and Mac is only half-listening while she and Riley chat. Riley’s so much better at small talk anyway. 

He’s much too focused on how Riley grabs his shoulder to use him for balance while she stretches. She’s so casual about it, like she’s done it a million times before. His skin burns under her touch. 

Mac wants to feel more of her, wants his whole body to feel like that. 

Stop it, he chastises himself. Stop thinking about her like that. 

He can’t. 

Even after Riley lets go, the feeling lingers, and Mac can’t stop thinking about that too. She’s standing slightly in front of him now, almost as if she’s protecting him from their nosey neighbor.

“When are you having kids?” Carrie Ann coos. “An attractive couple such as yourselves would make such beautiful children.” 

Shit. He and Riley never talked about that. 

Before Mac can come up with an answer, Riley pulls his arms around her, a smile blooming on her face. She guides his hands to rest low on her abdomen. “We’re actually trying right now.” 

Mac’s brain short-circuits. 

He blushes, both at the casual intimacy of Riley wrapping herself in him and at the implications of what she just said. Pressing her body fully into Mac’s, Riley looks up at him, smiling like he’s her whole world, and Mac’s heart stops. He’s not breathing. 

His whole body burns, and the feeling is so much more intense than he imagined just seconds ago. 

Alight with mischief, Riley’s dark brown eyes draw him in, and suddenly Mac is picturing Riley with that exact same expression while wearing far less clothing. 

Mac thinks he might die from spontaneous combustion. 

You are so beautiful, he barely stops himself from saying. His blush deepens as he’s snared in the mental image of him and Riley doing said “trying.” 

Their neighbor has the audacity to laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, Genevieve. Your husband looks like he’s ready for another round.” 

That makes it worse. So much worse. If he doesn’t spontaneously combust, then he’ll definitely die of embarrassment. It’s not how he wants to die, but it’s better than explaining his reaction to Riley. Because she’s going to ask him about it. Mac knows this—knows this like he knows grass is green and gravity is what keeps his feet on the ground.

As soon as Carrie Ann leaves, Riley does exactly that. She extricates herself from his grasp, putting her hands on her hips and furrowing her brow the way she always does when she knows something’s up. “Are you okay?” she asks. 

Mac’s voice is strained as he replies, “Yeah. I’m good.” 

He is not good. He is definitely not good. 

And Riley knows it. 

This op feels like all Mac’s worst nightmares coming to fruition. Simultaneously. 

Riley can’t know. Her knowing would ruin everything—their friendship, their work, their trust. Mac can hardly look her in the eye. How is Riley supposed to trust him when he’s secretly thinking about her like that? He’s her friend; he’s supposed to protect her from guys who want her like that, not become one of them. 

But god does Mac want to be one of them. Not one of them, he corrects himself. The only one. 

He’s screwed.

.

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[goodlucktkachuk]

Frantic -- Matthew Tkachuk (Pt.3)

a/n: here we are back at it again with part 3! this was honestly my faviourite one to write so far so I hope you guys enjoy it!

Part One  Part Two

It was a lively Saturday night in downtown Toronto. The streets were full of people shuffling into restaurants and bars. The boys were away on a roadie down the east coast which meant you had your best friends all to yourself. You loved Nick to death but it was good to get some quality time with Emily. Hand in hand, the two of you shook off the cold as you entered The Loose Moose.

This place was an absolute institution for you guys, it was packed full of memories. Endless arguments over that night's game, many wins celebrated and losses mourned. Stupid fights over who was covering the tab and countless nights of Auston or Mitch throwing you over their shoulder because you were getting a bit too feisty. The sweetest memory of all though was Nick meeting Emily for the first time. She had just moved to the city for school so you took her out with the boys to show her some fun. The second Nick saw her he was down for the count and in love ever since. You wondered if Matt felt the same way about you.

It wasn’t overly crowded tonight giving you guys the chance to sit in your regular seats at the end of the bar. It had become a tradition for you and Emily to go out to catch the game while the boys were away.

Nursing your first beer while you looked at the menu, Emliy huffed beside you.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t understand why I’m wearing a flames jersey” She played with the sleeves, a sour look across her face.

“Because I wore Muzz’s jersey the last time we went out.” Your voice extremely uninterested.

“So? You love Jake!”

“Yes but I also love Talbot, listen, Calgary's playing tonight too so you just gotta suffer.”

“God you suck” She said, taking a long sip of her Tequila Sunrise.

“Do you want to split a poutine or just share some apps” She scoffed at you and you just flash her a toothy smile as she begins to pout.

The rest of the night went smoother. After many plates of food and maybe one too many beers you felt good. The Leafs won their game and you guys got several dirty looks for cheering a bit too loud. You couldn’t help how excited Emily tends to get when Nick does anything and several drinks made you more than proud of Mitch.

The second period of the Flames vs Kings game had you on edge of your seat. Given his history, you knew Matty was going to cause some trouble but you hoped to god today he wouldn’t. You made sure to message him before the game but you weren’t sure if he actually saw it. Looking away for just a second  as you signaled the bartender for another drink was enough time for gloves to be dropped and for Matt to start throwing punches.

Keeping your eyes glued to the screen you couldn’t move. You had seen him get in a million  fights before but this felt different. You couldn’t help but feel something twist in your stomach and your cheeks started to get hot. You weren't a fan of the violence but watching him really turned you on. Watching a smirk cover his face as he headed to the box, you’d give anything to know what was going on his head. Distracted from the fight you had missed Emily taking pictures of your concentrated face and getting someone to take a picture of you two from behind in your jerseys.

As the game went into intermission, you took to instagram posting the photos. The first being the Talbot and Lindholm jerseys the two of you had on followed by the photo of your intense concentration. Captioning it, ‘when the boys are away the girls get too into the game’ you hit post.

After a few minutes comments started flooding:

marner_93: gross

morganrielly: @marner_93 second that

nickrobertson01: I really hate you Y/N, we all know Em looks better in blue

Emm01: @nickrobertson01 I was forced, I’m wearing your sweater under this

matthew_tkachuk: getting closer, the right team but still the wrong last name!!

austonmatthews: @matthew_tkachuk nah it’s the wrong everything

fredrikandersen31: I feel so betrayed

-----------------------------------------

After a bitter fight, the Flames came out with a loss and you had come out of the bar way more drunk then you had intended. Being pushed into the uber and having Emily lay your head on her lap you closed your eyes and sighed heavily wondering how Matty was doing. The more you thought about Matt, the more you thought about how Auston was acting about the two of you talking. Tensing your shoulders, a frown covered your face. Your friend could feel you tense up and she started rubbing small circles into your back. Talking to you drunk was like talking to a full grown toddler.

“Whatcha thinking about there, mini.” she hums softly.

Mumbling slightly you said, “Auston”

“Why's that?”

“Mm-making me feel weird about Matty” A smile crossed your lips as you said his name.

“What do you mean hunny?”

“Calling me a pest, looking at my phone, getting way too protective, very uncool of him.”

“I thought him and Matthew were friends though? Why would he care what Matt does?”

“Aus heard us talking after the game.”

“Y/N sweetie, he can’t be mad about that.”

“Heard me say Matty needs to see what is under my jersey.”

“Excuse me!!!”

“Shhhh Emmy. Too loud.”

“Sorry love. Why would you say that?”

“He told me to go to the game in red.”

“When did he tell you that? Did he DM you?”

“The morning before the game when I did pregame coffee. Ruined his hoodie” Pausing you turn slightly to look up at Emily. “I really like him.”

Emily decided you had answered enough questions for the night and just smiled back “Oh Y/N, I’m sure he likes you too.”

The rest of the ride was silent as Emily played with your hair, letting you drift to sleep until you guys got home. She brought you upstairs and helped you get changed. As she did you spoke soft whispers about all the reasons you liked Matthew which made your best friend laugh. In the five years she’s known you, she never had seen you be this head over heels for anyone. It was refreshing. She tucked you into bed and told you she was going to call Nick and to just yell if you needed her. Once your door was closed, you got the brilliant idea to call Matthew. After what felt like struggling forever to find your phone you finally got it and listened to the rhythmic sound of the phone ringing. His voice was rough when he spoke almost as if you had woken him up. Which of course you did.

“Hello?”

Chirping almost like a baby bird you dragged out his name. “Matthewwwww!”

“Y/N? What are you doing up so late?”

“Emmy and I went to the bar to watch you play baby!” Suddenly everything clicked into place in his mind and he realized how trashed you were.

“Awh thank you princess. Did I make you proud?”

“The PROUDEST babe but your fight made me feel…” Trailing off in the middle of the sentence.

“Feel what sweetheart?”

“Ya know, feel…” You added a little spicy to your voice.

“Oh,” he said as everything fell into place in his mind “did I turn you on princess?” His voice became raspy as he waited egerly for you to say something.

Your side of the phone remained silent for a few seconds before you sprang into another topic.

“Ou! Ou! Ou! Wanna hear what I told Emmy tonight!?”

He laughed slightly as you avoid his question. “Sure sweetheart, lay it on me.”

A smile crept onto his face as he placed his phone on his chest and relaxed into his bed. For the next ten minutes you proceeded to tell Matthew everything you liked about him. You liked the way he wore bandanas to push his hair out of his face. How good he was with kids. You spent at least half of the time reminding him how hot he was when he got into fights or when he went to the gym or for just existing. You talked about how good he was at hockey and how much he cared about his family. As you came to the end of your rant you took a quick pause.

“Would you like to know what I like most about you Matty?”

“What’s that Y/N?” He said sweetly, a stupid grin plastered to his face.

“You make me smile.” Matthew couldn’t help but blush thinking about how happy you were.

“Good. I hope that’s all I ever make you do princess.” Giggling madly, you snap a picture of your smile and send it to him.

“You’re beautiful Y/N”

“Thank you.” You take a slight pause just listening to his breath. “Goodnight Matty.”

“Goodnight princess.”

Meanwhile, down in Boston the boys were out celebrating another victory. The bar they were in was packed with people and everyone was having a good time. They were all packed into two booths in the back of the bar each taking turns getting pints of beer for the tables. Auston made his way to the bar with Muz trailing close behind. As they waited to be served Aus put his head in his hands.

“What's wrong buddy?” Jake asks with a confused look on his face. Auston was never one to be stressed around the group

“I’m just worried about Y/N.”

Putting a firm hand on Austons shoulder, Jake just shrugged “Listen man I get what Chucky said was a little much but the kids always doing stupid shit like that.”

“I don’t know Jake.” He sighed as he reached for the pitcher of beer. “I did team USA with him and he broke the heart of every girl who looked his way. I don’t want that happening to Y/N ”

Jake just nodded and they headed back. Auston had good intentions but his execution wasn’t going the way he had hoped.

[merakiui]

You got any yandere hcs of the boys before we start. Im an yandere obsessed anon who lives and brreaths reading this shit and I wanna know how fucked we can get

(Here you go, wonderful anon! I’ll post yandere hcs for the other teams soon. I’d also like to post yandere fics for these boys, but I’m not sure if anyone’s interested. >-< I’ve got two sitting in my drafts, though!)

Yandere Morning and Day Teams

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 TW: (yandere) unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, mentions of kidnapping/captivity, gas-lighting, starvation, abuse

Morning Team (Mane)

🧩 Ghilley 🧩

Ghilley is definitely a stalker. He’ll be in your shadow whether you like it or not. Nothing escapes his watchful gaze, so it’s important that your enemies choose their words around you.

He’s already skilled at sneaking around, so he’ll use that to his advantage. Popping in to give you a spook, showing up when you’re out with someone else, and even when you think you’re alone.

He’ll follow you if he thinks you’re going to get yourself into trouble again. His poor manager just has a habit of attracting bad people. Just let Ghilley handle all those vengeful spirits. You won’t have to lift a finger!

If anyone gives you problems, tell Ghilley and that issue will be solved in no time. And if you get curious and ask him what happened, he’ll just shrug the question off in a playful manner.

His behavior is unpredictable, so you never know what he does in his spare time. Truthfully, Ghilley’s either watching you or he’s playing a few tricks on those who bothered you. They’ll remember not to mess with you if they’re given a permanent fright.

You won’t notice what’s going on until everyone starts to keep their distance. Friends will make up excuses so they won’t have to hang out with you, and those who might’ve had some romantic interest in you have cut communication altogether.

When you’re feeling down, Ghilley will swoop in to cheer you up. You start to normalize your relationship with him because it’s all you currently know. No one else is willing to talk to you, so you can only rely on him.

Ghilley knows it must hurt to be alone, but it’s the only way he can have you to himself. So he’s willing to bury his pain if it means he’ll get to console you.

He wouldn’t hurt you, but he might remind you every now and then that he’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned you yet.

Yet. A word that’s become part of his daily vocabulary. A word that reminds you of the fact that he could leave you one day.

☀️ Ell ☀️

He shouldn’t feel these emotions to begin with. It’s almost...dirty, in a way. Almost like he’s sinning.

He’s not doing anything bad, though. Loving you was what got him kicked out of Heaven in the first place, but that’s not entirely evil in itself. At first, he assumed Cupid’s Arrow was the one to blame for these lovey-dovey feelings, but it’s not Cupid’s job to foster obsession among former angels.

He doesn’t recognize how suffocating his presence truly is. You’d probably have to tell him to back off before he stops sticking by your side, and even if you did something like that it’d make Ell incredibly sad. Without realizing it, he’ll start to guilt-trip you. 

“I’m sorry, Manager! You just looked like you could use some company. I... I can leave you alone if that’s what you want. You might think I’m annoying and—achoo!”

Nowadays, he’s been sneezing a lot, but the idea that his love for you is what’s causing all of this never crosses his mind. He just can’t wrap his head around that. Why would love, a pure, wonderful feeling, make him sneeze?

Under that smile of his are a dozen worries. He’s afraid he’ll chase you away or that you’ll stop liking him. Ell would feel crushed if that ever happened, so all of his energy goes into appeasing you.

He’ll show up unannounced at your office with your favorite snacks, follow you around the campus, and talk to you about literally anything. He could ramble about the grass if it means you’ll spare him your time.

Ell doesn’t really know the meaning of jealousy or hatred. Having been an angel once, he’s not used to negativity. He doesn’t necessarily feel extreme envy, nor does he hate any of the Reapers, but he does sulk about it.

It’s hard to say when he got obsessed. Perhaps it was when you first met and you mistook him for your own guardian angel. Despite the fact that he’s not an angel anymore, Ell likes the sound of that.

It’s a guardian angel’s job to care for and protect humans, so surely you won’t mind if he stays glued to you like a fungus. After all, it’s harmless, happy Ell! You’ve got nothing to worry about!

🐴 Jamie 🐴

Jamie is so strong it’s scary. Good luck trying to beat him in a fight if you ever attempt an escape.

He seems so innocent and kind on the outside, always willing to lend a hand when you’re struggling with Non-Non. If he’s being honest, he likes doing chores with you. It almost feels like the both of you are working on a farm together in the desolate outdoors. Just you, him, sprawling farmland, and no civilization in sight. How cute is that?

No one suspects he's obsessed until they look beyond that soft appearance of his. His gaze will linger to the point where it’s creepy, and he’ll smile while he watches you work.

He’ll get better at technology and city life so he’ll have something else to chat about whenever it’s just you and him.

If he finds out that you’re interested in something, he’ll try his best to learn more about it. Oh, you mentioned a new movie that’s been released in the human world? Maybe he’ll have to see it for himself. Did you want to try a new pastry from your favorite bakery? Jamie will buy it for you, so you should go with him!

He’s reliable, kind, and helpful—surely you’ll fall for those qualities. If not, he’ll find another way. After all, there’s a saying that goes ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way,’ and it’s not like he’ll give up anytime soon.

Jamie likes to imagine a comfortable life with you on the farm. Both of you will tend to the land and the animals, you’ll always have fresh crops, and you'll be together forever. It’s an ideal fantasy, but if you’re not willing he might just have to lock you up in the stables. 

Jamie doesn’t fret over potential rivals. If he was able to silence the thugs in his neighborhood, a few pesky humans are nothing.

He’ll get flustered when you say anything nice to him. It really warms his heart to be at the receiving end of your caring words.

And it’s even better when you're accepting his suffocating love. You’ll find that the bed is much softer than the stable. Just don’t push him too far. Sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength, and your bones can only take so much pressure.

💋 Licht 💋

Licht didn’t think he’d find his soulmate so soon! Whether you click or not, Licht certainly feels a special connection. He’s going to flirt with you no matter what.

It’s up to you whether you respond to his playful advances, but if you decide to humor him be prepared to have this man all over you. If you’re returning his playful gestures and remarks, it must mean something!

Licht lives for storybook romance. There’s something so lovely about sweeping his true love off of their feet, so he’d like to woo you in traditional ways. He’ll gift you your favorite candies, give you a bouquet of flowers, and buy you cute trinkets that remind him of you.

He takes note of what you wear and whether or not you put on a perfume/cologne on certain days. He’ll memorize your fashion style and then try to match it with his own. Licht’s happy whenever the two of you conveniently match outfits. It’s almost like you’re a couple.

He’ll probably spray his own cologne on your clothes if he ever gets a hold of them. You’ll wonder where this new scent came from, and Licht will be over the moon if you decide to leave it as it is.

Licht will invite you on dates under the guise that the two of you are just hanging out as friends. Lo and behold, his real motive is to act like your boyfriend. If you aren’t careful, he might just go around telling strangers that you’re his partner.

He’s always touching you in some way. Sometimes it’s an arm around your waist or his hands are on your shoulders. To some, it’s just his affectionate personality, but to you it’s completely suffocating.

Whenever he holds your hand, it almost feels like he’s daring you to try. Like he wants you to run off and get a taste of the scary world so that he can come in to save you like a true prince.

He hopes that enough flirting will have you confessing. All of these romantic gestures have got to count for something!

Despite this, Licht wants to believe you love him as much as he loves you. Tricking himself is easy, but convincing you is going to be a challenge.

Day Team (Die)

🎹 Theo 🎹

Theo’s harbored some dark thoughts ever since he witnessed you and Nine in the storage room, happily playing the piano like a pair of friends. Like a pair of lovers.

Theo can’t stand it when the others are around you, especially if they have ill-intent. Whenever he takes care of bullies or vengeful spirits, he’s got this dead look on his face. It’s devoid of any feeling, and his eyes are filled with silent anger. It’s a stare that does more than curse; it could probably kill.

He’s rather clingy, always insisting that he accompany you to and from your destinations. If you decline, he’ll just smile and act polite. But if he finds out that you decided to go with someone else...

Theo wants to be the only one in your life. Everyone else is just a worthless germ that needs to be scrubbed away. If they linger around you for too long, he worries you’ll become infected.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to learn a lesson. If you’re so picky about eating the food he so graciously went out and purchased, then maybe you don’t deserve to eat at all. Not until you warm up to his cooking, that is.

He’s willing to do anything for you in order to appear perfect. If you were to tell him to shoulder your workload, he’d do it without a single complaint. If you wanted him to watch paint dry, he’d do it with his head full of you.

All he ever thinks about is you. Sure, his mind flits from June to new recipes to the piano every now and then, but it always seems to settle on you in the end.

What did you eat for breakfast? Did you get enough sleep? Would you like something to drink? Where are you going with Youssef? Why is Nine getting close to you? Why aren’t you looking at him?

Theo will know everything about you in time. Whether you like it or not, he’s going to unearth every detail he can. Even mundane habits you don’t pay attention to. Before you know what’s happening, Theo’s got your schedule memorized thoroughly.

He holds no remorse for those who get in his way. As sweet and disarming as he may seem to those around him, Theo’s wicked behind closed doors. That spell book of his has no business gathering all this dust.

🌹 Louis 🌹

Everyone assumes Louis has no interest in anyone other than himself, so it’s a surprise when he starts to give you more attention than normal.

His compliments start getting personal and they still don’t make sense. Just the other day, you were trudging through the hall, dead-tired, when Louis passed you. He stopped, smiled, and said, “Thy radiance outshines the brightest of stars!”

He’s always energetic like that, so it’s not like his behavior is particularly strange. But he spends more time flattering you than himself. His main priority isn’t his beautiful face anymore.

You deserve the world. Why hasn’t anyone given it to you yet? Fear not because Louis is determined to give you everything you could ever want. He’s a prince, after all, so it’s only fair that you sit upon the throne with him.

There’s no room for anyone else in this relationship. It’s just you and him. If you were to leave him, his heart would shatter! Sadness has never been a good fit on Louis, and you know how much he cares for his appearance. So you’ll do him a favor and stay so he won’t wilt like a rose, right?

It’s almost like he lives off of you. You’re his sunlight, water, and fresh air. Any less of your attention and he’s sighing dramatically. Won’t you be a dear and cheer him up? After all, it’s not every day you see Louis so upset.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. If you do, Louis will just ignore your hurtful feelings. He’s got more than enough love to go around. Surely that’ll convince you that he means no harm.

You’ll be treated like royalty, and everyone else is a mere peasant. Sure, Louis can say that he treasures everyone, but some people just aren’t worth his time.

Naturally, a prince deserves the finest, and he won’t settle for anyone who isn’t you.

So don’t fret! Those chains are only temporary, and once you show him some hospitality he’s willing to ease up on his restrictions. Although his sense of freedom is rather cracked.

♞ Ethan ♞

Ethan is a tough case. He hardly shows his emotions, so it’s difficult to determine how he’s feeling. He’ll never show any hostility towards you, though. It’s nothing but warmth and kindness.

When it comes to the others, he’ll give them the cold shoulder and a few cruel remarks. His patience tends to wear thin when he sees people bothering you.

Ethan’s like a hawk. He’ll keep an eye on you to make sure you’re staying out of trouble and he’ll swoop in as soon as something unsavory happens.

He’ll treat you like a glass figurine that’s always on the verge of breaking. At some point, he becomes your unofficial knight in a way. He’s willing to defend you by all means necessary, so everyone else should back off if they know what’s best for them.

At first, he scorned these feeble emotions for getting in the way of his stony resolve, but now he’s come to accept them.

It’s impossible to deter him from his motives. Once he’s got his mind set, he won’t change it. After all, everything he does is completely intentional.

He’ll just stare at you while you struggle in those bindings. If you were smart, you’d just accept your fate and act docile, but Ethan’s not a fool. He’ll keep you bound for as long as it takes.

You can try to reason with him, but nothing ever works. No matter how sweet the deal may seem, he never agrees to any of it.

Ethan will take care of you while you’re adjusting to a permanent life with him. You won’t go a day without a bath, healthy meals, or a lack of sleep. If Ethan says you’ll bathe, you’ll bathe. If he says you’ll eat, you’ll eat. His word are practically law.

Despite his harsh rules, he’s not that hard on you. He’d never lay a hand upon you, nor will you find yourself at the end of his sharpened sword. As long as you fall into a pleasant routine with little complaint, he’ll be happy.

💥 June 💥

June doesn’t realize his feelings for you are unhealthy. He just thinks they’re a natural part of life! Everyone falls in love at some point, right? So you can’t blame him when he’s doing everything he can to spend more time with you.

Your paperwork will never get done because June wants you to watch him while he trains. He’ll even show you his workout routine, hoping you’ll agree to train with him one day.

He’s one of the Reapers who doesn’t get jealous much. Unless someone’s really trying to get him to snap—which doesn’t happen often. But in the event that he does feel envious, he’ll frown a bit, his voice won’t be at its usual loudness, and he’ll sulk.

Immediately perks up the moment you give him any attention. He practically lives off of your reactions and has no problem announcing that to everyone.

June will remain loyal to you no matter what! Nothing can separate the two of you, and he’s convinced himself that you feel exactly the same. If you’re always smiling, it must mean that you accept his feelings! So then why have you started acting awkward when he continues to ramble passionately about how much he admires your strength and persistence?

Try to leave him and he’ll be so heartbroken. June won’t know how to react! Why would you want to leave? He’s never done anything that would warrant this kind of behavior. Maybe he just needs to give you more affection.

Bright and early, he’s knocking on your dorm with a huge grin. “Manager, the sun hasn’t risen yet, but that doesn’t mean we should wait for it! Let’s train hard today! Haha!”

June loves protecting you. Whenever he saves you from danger, he feels like a hero in those action movies he loves so much. Anyone would love to get saved by someone who’d die for them! This sort of loyalty will have you falling for him in no time.

And if it doesn’t, he can just create a few perilous scenarios. What you don’t know can’t kill you, right?

You’re his soulmate, so there’s no way he’d give you up in his afterlife.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 13

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, slight smut

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Warnings: Anxiety, low self-esteem, discussions of sex, mention of (f) oral sex, sexual anxiety

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! As usual, if you do...please reblog and leave me a comment! Or send me an ask letting me know your thoughts, I’m glad you’re all loving Flower!Hobi!

; Flower Masterpost

-

Staring at your computer screen, a deep sigh leaves you as yet another email notification pops up in the corner. Clicking on it with as much enthusiasm as you’d give towards picking up a slug, you watch as it directs you back to Outlook and brings up the email. It was from your boss, who was literally sat across the small room from you, asking you to call a client and check whether they were still available for a meeting tomorrow.

Pursing your lips, you bring up her previous email that includes the client’s contact details and input their number into your work phone. Holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you tap your pen against your mouse as the dial tone fills your ear.

You really hated your job. 26-years-old, with a degree and you were just stuck doing the work people better paid than you didn’t want to do. Chewing on your lip, you contemplated looking at the list of job sites you’d begun to frequent lately, wondering whether or not you should apply for a new job.

The prospect of a job you actually loved and enjoyed was so foreign to you that it felt almost like a mythical unicorn right now, but you knew they existed. Hoseok loved his job, despite how everyone berated IT departments in every company. So you knew that there was something out there for you. 

But what was it? And how could you get it when you had no relevant experience in...well anything except for the modern day equivalent of pen pushing? Some days you were rushed off your feet doing everything for your boss, acting like a secretary, personal assistant and administrative assistant all at once.

Getting tea and coffee for work meetings, sitting in and taking notes, writing up meeting notes and distributing them, arranging meetings and visits and so much more. It was all boring and dull. The very idea of doing this for the rest of your life was simply unimaginable but you just...couldn’t get the courage to put yourself out there and apply for something better.

You were afraid of rejection and you were even more afraid of getting accepted for a job and then finding out you couldn’t do it. 

Almost without even thinking, you talk through with the client and make sure that they’re still okay for the meeting that was prepared for tomorrow. As soon as the phone clicks back into the cradle, you’re opening a response to your boss and sending her a quick email to let her know that it’s still on and that you’ve checked the room is still booked for them.

And then you just sit there a moment, staring at the screen and wondering what to do next. You had some menial tasks that needed to be done; photocopying documents for their meeting, forwarding invoices and so forth. But you just didn’t want to do any of it. 

That was nothing new though, you never wanted to do anything at work.

A sudden flash of colour out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and look over to where your phone lay on the desk, just above your keyboard. One of the only good things about this place was that no one complained about phones being used as long as you were doing your work too.

And the green that lights up the screen can only mean that someone has sent you a message on WhatsApp. Licking your lips, you glance up at your boss before unlocking your phone quickly and clicking onto the app. 

Upon seeing Hoseok’s name your grin turns even broader, feeling a little better already. He didn’t often text during the work day, often being far too busy to waste time on texting. Unlike you, he was permanently busy.

Hoseok [13:38pm]: Guess who got promoted?

Hoseok [13:38pm]: It’s me! I got promoted :D

Smiling even wider, you quickly texted back as pride fills your chest. Amazing how you’ve only been dating for four months yet you feel so happy and proud of him already. You’d known that he had a meeting today with his managers and he’d been a little worried, unsure whether or not they were going to be laying people off or not.

Y/N [13:39pm]: Yaaaaaaaaay. Can you boss people around now?

Hoseok [13:40pm]: I already boss people around

Hoseok [13:40pm]: Now I just have another department to boss...and more money :D

Y/N [13:41pm]: I is jealouz

Y/N [13:41pm]: (;﹏;)

Hoseok [13:42pm]: I still can’t get over how you text sometimes, honestly

Hoseok [13:42pm]: ANYWAY, it’s more money to spend on youuu :D and Kasumi

Y/N [13:43pm]: Hush, more money for you to spend on gigs

Hoseok [13:43pm]: :O don’t tell me how to spend my money >:[

And then you get a photo sent. Your phone’s setting means that you need to accept it before it downloads, image pixelated at first before becoming high quality. Clicking on it again, you frown momentarily before your eyes widen and your throat goes strangely dry suddenly.

He’s in an all black suit; black jacket, a silk black shirt and a skinny black tie to compliment it all off. It makes the hint of tattoos you can see pop vividly with their colours over the top of his shirt collar and the bit of wrist you can see on the hand that’s pointing at the camera. And it all complements his dark hair wonderfully, today actually styled properly and pushed up elegantly to reveal his forehead and let the astonishing beauty of his face be seen properly.

His face though, isn’t the pure sex his body is emanating. Instead, he’s got a comical expression in which his face is scrunched together, lips pursed in faux anger to go with his last text. But you don’t care, you can’t care.

Hoseok in a suit is...oh god. It’s everything, and you feel things for him suddenly that you’ve never really felt for anyone before from just seeing a picture. You...want to do things to him, right now. 

The strength of your reaction actually makes you pause, looking up from your phone as you assess yourself to try and comprehend what you feel. And what you wanted was for Hoseok to send you a serious photo of him looking like that.

Y/N [13:49pm]: You’re in a suit?

Hoseok [13:50pm]: Yeah, manager meeting

Y/N [13:55pm]: Can you...send a serious picture?

Hoseok [13:56pm]: ...you want another selfie of me?

Y/N [14:00pm]: I mean...you don’t have to

And then you get another photo sent through, causing you to swallow thickly as you download it. You end up biting your lip harshly as you try to stop yourself from making any kind of noise out loud. No one had noticed that you hadn’t done a lot of work in the last fifteen minutes, but they would notice if you made the kind of noise that wanted to erupt from your throat.

Hoseok had evidently known where your thoughts had gone from your awkward text back to him, and he’d pulled out all the stops for you. Part of you wondered where on Earth he was that he could take pictures like this without getting strange looks from his colleagues but an overriding part of you didn’t care.

Because holy shit, your boyfriend was ridiculously fucking attractive and how in the hell had you pulled him?

This photo has him in almost the same angle, only two of his fingers frame the pink tongue that pokes out of his mouth, white teeth pressing against the back of his tongue ring while his eyes are dark with intent. There’s no playfulness in this picture, at least nothing that could be done in public. 

No indeed and you squirm slightly in your seat, contemplating the wild fact that you were horny at work. This has never happened before and you didn’t really know that to do! But how could you not be? The way Hoseok was looking at the camera was the exact way he’d looked at you all three times he’d gone down on you so far.

And he knew it, given his suggestive pose with his tongue. In fact, you’re suddenly sent back to last week when he’d gone down on you in bed. You still weren’t even remotely comfortable asking him to do anything like that yet, but apparently he’d been wanting to so you’d shyly agreed once more.

Not that you were opposed to it or anything.

But those eyes he was giving the camera are the exact same he gave you from between your legs. And that just was not fair, because what were you supposed to do about this in the middle of work? You had just under three hours left to work before you left and he wouldn’t even finish till six.

Y/N [14:07pm]: Handsome

Y/N [14:08pm]: Are you still staying over?

Hoseok [14:10pm]: That’s all you gotta say to that, you wound me. And yes, be around 7

Y/N [14:11pm]: <33

Putting your phone down, you stare at your computer screen that has gotten three new email notifications since you got distracted. You don’t click on them though...instead you just chew on your lip, tapping your fingertips against the desk slowly as you think.

Maybe tonight...maybe…

-

The quick rapping on the door lets you know that Hoseok is finally here, half an hour late. Opening the door to him, you don't even get a chance to say anything as he brushes past you, kicking his shoes off and apologising profusely.

"I'm sorry, they kept me an extra half an hour 'cos some idiot basically broke his laptop and then there was traffic so I haven't been able to go back and change." He's taking his coat off, hanging it up on the little rack on the wall before looking at you and letting out a deep sigh.

"Oh I'm so glad to be home. Today has been so fucking stressful, maybe I should have turned down that promotion and it’s not even been a full day." You don't even get time to consider the fact that he just called your place home because he's suddenly leaning forward, giving you a quick kiss before moving into the kitchen.

Watching after him, you simply stare in bewilderment. You're not entirely sure that you could speak right now, hit by the double whammy of his slip of the tongue and his clothes.

It was true that Hoseok had pretty much spent the last month near enough living at your place, only going home a day or two a week but you hadn't realised he'd felt that comfortable here. You felt a shy warm happiness bubble in your chest at the thought though, looking down at your hands as you bite your lip to stop smiling like a little girl.

But what really turns you into an excitable mess is his outfit. He's still wearing the suit from earlier, his hair tousled from where he'd obviously been running his hands through it in the stress of his work.

And if he'd looked hot in his photos, he looked damn near sinful in person.

Which is why you simply watch him with wide eyes, moving into the kitchen slowly and resting a hip against one of the counters as he peers into the slow cooker that you'd set up this morning before going to work. It was just a simple beef stew with a hint of red wine, the scent delicious but you found that wasn't what was making your mouth water.

Not tonight.

"So...I didn't...know you had a suit like that." The words are incredibly stilted, sounding unbelievably awkward in your mouth and you inwardly cringe. Particularly when you see Hoseok stiffen, ever so slightly beneath the delightful black fabric that outlines his lithe body beautifully.

You knew that Hoseok had been incredibly patient with you. Probably more patient than most men would have been, not even slightly pushing you and making sure that you are completely comfortable with every moment. He didn't ask for much and you often felt bad that he seemed to give up so much in exchange for the eternal patience he gave to you. 

But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to thrive on what little advancement in your relationship he could get. You still got shy when he gave you oral obviously, but you were far more eager to say yes compared to the beginning.

And tonight...tonight you wanted to finally let him get the pleasure he’d willingly denied himself to keep you comfortable. Especially when he looked like that.

It wasn't just a 'giving him a good time' too because you like him, a lot, but also because quite simply...for the first time ever...you wanted to have sex with someone. You desperately wanted to find out what he felt like inside you. Feel him thrusting within you and in turn explore him to find out what made him jerk, made him twitch and made him moan.

Oh god yes, you wanted to hear him moan. The very idea of him making those kinds of noises because of you was intoxicating and you squeeze your thighs together, fully in the knowledge that you were probably wet already. 

You have no doubt that Hoseok can tell there’s something different, an unusual kind of tension in the air as he turns around slowly, brow raised. Glancing away, you find yourself playing with the label of a Coke bottle on the side, fingers picking until it came away.

Part of you wanted to be brash and forward, boldly tell him what you wanted but as soon as you consider doing it, it felt like an iron band wrapped around your lungs. Breathing was made a lot of harder suddenly and you couldn’t get any words out, your limbs feeling cold and tingly with nerves and anxiety.

Oh how you wished desperately that you could be a bolder person because you just knew that you weren’t at that level of confidence yet with him. Even if you felt no expectations from him. You just weren’t there, and that’s why you were hoping he’d understand and take the lead once more. 

And Jung Hoseok, your wonderful boyfriend who you still believe is far too good for you, does so. You have no idea how he knows that you want to do more than cuddle or talk, no idea how he can tell that you’re struggling to get across your desires but he does.

He smiles slowly, the corners of his lips turning up in a smirk at first before turning into that beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. Moving slowly, he walked over to you and you press yourself into the counter, eyes widening as you took in the long and loping stride.

Without so much as a word, he stands firmly in front of you, leaning forward just enough to place his arms on the counter, trapping you between them. You can feel the heat of him, the way his leg’s brush against yours with how close he is and the way his jacket slides along your stomach slightly. Combined with the fresh scent that was so unique to Hoseok and the dark look in his eyes, you felt completely overwhelmed by him.

Overwhelmed, in the best way possible.

Leaning down, Hoseok moves close enough until you feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, the movement deceptively soft given the sexual tension that’s so thick between you both. Biting your lip, you force yourself to remain quiet to see what he does.

“I have more suits than you might realise baby. Why? Do you like it?” His voice is annoyingly light, innocence laced into every syllable that matches his perfect, angelic face too well. Smiling, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for an answer but before you can even say anything, his arms move a little and you feel them pressing against your waist.

“Y-yeah, it...it looks good.” You stutter out, body heating rapidly as you lick at your lips, mouth absurdly dry. And before even realising...you’re pressing your face against his black shirt, feeling the soft silky material rub at your cheek while all you can think of is what the firm chest beneath it looks like.

Hoseok seems to pause for a moment before his hands move to rest on your hips, hesitantly stroking along them. Almost instantly you cringe forward, the feel of his hands so foreign and a subtle panic rushes through you as your mind screams at where he’s touching. The place you dislike on yourself, the place society has taught you isn’t beautiful.

But he touches you with so much care, light and gentle. He doesn’t push further with you, simply let the moment hold despite how tense you both are. You know what he’s doing, instinctively understand because he’s done this your whole relationship so far. He’s letting you get used to him, decide whether or not you feel comfortable with what he’s doing...what he’s offering.

Pressing your ear to his chest, you close your eyes and inhale deeply, shakily as you fight the demons of insecurity over yourself and your previous sexual experiences. Originally, you’d considered perhaps returning the favour to him and giving him oral sex. But now, hearing the strong beat of his heart and the warmth that has comforted you for many nights now...now you want more.

So you let him know, in that quiet and shy method that he must have become so used to. Your own hands tremble slightly as you move your head back just enough before you press them to his chest, hesitantly just letting yourself feel him like this for the first time. And then your fingers move to his collar, the top two buttons already undone.

Finally, finally you glance up at him, feeling unbelievably frightened that he might push you away, decided he didn’t want it. Didn’t want you. 

It had been years since you’d done anything...you knew this and he knew this by now. But you knew that he was far more experienced, so experienced in fact that it scares you a little. You felt like you’d be judged against others and found wanting, even if you knew that Hoseok wouldn’t do that.

“Hoseok,” You start, words meek and quiet. “I...erm, I want...I mean...I don’t…” 

And Hoseok moves his hands to cup your cheeks, smiling at you sweetly, so sweetly. It’s so reminiscent of when he’d gone down on you the first time and you get the urge to suddenly cry at how caring he is. How lucky you are.

“It’s okay. I know...you’re not hugely experienced and you’re not confident. That’s fine, I don’t expect anything from you. We don’t need to do anything, I was just teasing. If you want, I can just go do-”

“No. No, not today. I don’t...I don’t want that. I want...I want you.” This time, the words are a tiny bit more confident but rushed out. “I just...sex...I’ve never really...understood why people like it. You know? It just...felt okay. Maybe it was me but like...yeah, I mean...you know. It was…rushed and you’ve done so much more than me and-” Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to interrupt you, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he lets out a shushing noise.

Suddenly, surprising you entirely, he backs away and gently takes your hand to lead you back to the couch. Without a word he gets you to sit down before doing so himself, taking both your hands between his own with a quiet sigh.

“Okay, I just...want us to talk for a moment, so that neither of us get confused or offended or anything. So...yes, I’ve had a lot of sex, I won’t deny that. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna judge you though. You’re my girlfriend, the vast majority of everyone else was not. I’m incredibly turned on by you and I wanna beat my chest like a neanderthal knowing you want me too. I know you’re shy and you’re not confident of yourself, which is just plain wrong by the way because you are unbelievably beautiful. I just...I don’t want to move too fast for you and have you regret it. So...talk to me. Please.” You’re sure this man really isn’t real, because surely no one really existed like him in real life. 

“Why are you so patient?” You blurt out, brow furrowed in confusion and he looks just as confused for a moment before smiling.

“Because being pushy doesn’t get me anything? Except upsetting you and making you close up. And then if you do anything for me, then it’s because I’ve pushed and pushed until you feel forced to do it. So I’m patient. I don’t really mind, I like your company and it’s strangely rewarding seeing you slowly open up to me. I’m not doing anything for an ulterior motive.” He’s so earnest that you can tell he’s being honest but it still confuses you. 

Not that you’re going to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything. 

So inhaling deeply, you squeeze his hands and gave him a tight smile before talking. Something about Hoseok has always been comforting and reassuring, like he won’t judge you and you know he’ll be the same this time.

“I haven’t...slept with anyone in years. You’ve probably realised or...maybe I told you. But...well. I mean,” Your hands feel so clammy in his. “It wasn’t really good? I never...you know, with anyone. It just...felt fine. Good enough that I’d do it again but not so good I actively wanted it. Thought something was wrong with me because of that. I’ve accepted there isn’t...maybe even wondered if I was asexual for a while or something. Maybe I still am? I don’t really know. I just...I like you...a lot...and I like doing...things with you. I’ve never...you know…”

“Orgasmed?”

It’s a simple word and he says it so casually but you find yourself squirming at it, feeling warm and embarrassed about it. Not only talking about orgasms but also admitting that you’d never had one during sex before. So you simply nod, unable to get the words out and frowning in frustration at yourself.

“Hey...hey look at me,” Hoseok says gently, squeezing your hands till you do as he says. “Don’t feel embarrassed about it. It’s not something to feel bad about. This probably isn’t what I should be saying right now...but I’ve had a lot of sex, with...a sizeable amount of women. Do you know how many times they orgasmed during sex?”

Frowning, you wonder momentarily whether you’re meant to feel better with the knowledge that he’d been with a lot of women. Or that some of them had even orgasmed with him. But you sensed he was trying to make a point, and Hoseok had never been cruel.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Not that many of them to be honest. I wish I could boost my ego and say I have a 100% strike rate but...I don’t. Sometimes girl’s would cum, most of the time they didn’t. I had to go down on them or something. And I’ve never had a single woman orgasm from penetration alone, they all needed some help. What I’m trying to get across here to you, and very badly because there’s nothing less sexy than hearing about your partner’s...escapades but...please don’t think that you’re always meant to orgasm during sex. Sometimes you might, sometimes you might not. I know that for some women, they just enjoy the feeling because they can’t get there. Sometimes, I don’t even orgasm. I’m not in the mood or something or I get bored...or I’m too drunk.”

That makes your eyes widen in shock and surprise. You hadn’t even though guys could just...not orgasm during sex. It made you realise how little you really knew, and suddenly you felt a little embarrassed about your lack of knowledge about sex. But he wasn’t being condescending or demeaning, so you decided to take the plunge and ask him.

“R-really? You...I didn’t know guys...I thought you just always did.” Hoseok laughs at that, looking so attractive that you can’t help but bite your lip. Even though you’re having a serious conversation with him, you still can’t mask the desire you have for him. Damn him for looking so good in a suit.

“The vast majority of the time? Yeah, it’s no problem. But sometimes like...I’m too tired to bother anymore and I just don’t want to carry on. Sometimes I’m a bit stressed and can’t get there which then leads to anxiety that I’m not. I try not to take it to heart but...you don’t need to be embarrassed. If you wanna orgasm then we can definitely try, if you don’t feel like it, then we don’t need to. It’s entirely up to you, I swear.” 

Silence falls between you both and you stare at your hands, swallowing thickly. He’s offering you so much, and part of you feels bad. But at the same time...you want to just enjoy him without the stress or anxiety of not performing like you thought you were supposed to.

Clenching your jaw, you make the decision and nod your head to yourself. Yes, you were doing this.

So without a word, you grab onto this small flame of confidence he’s lit within you and let go of his hands, instead using them to grip the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward. His eyes widen for a second and he lets out an ‘oomph’ before you’re kissing him.

It’s not pretty at first, almost painful from the force and you both take a few seconds to reacquaint yourselves with each other before it finally starts moving smoothly like usual. Only this time, the kiss is far more intense than anything you’d had before with him, almost as if you were trying to devour each other with the force and intensity.

Pulling away momentarily, you look at him and groan softly at the desire in his eyes. You’ve seen him in moments of pure lust before, but he’s bordering on unrestrained here. And you want that, so you pull him back in, moulding your lips to his own and feeling the tingle of excitement that runs through you.

“Not here, not here. Please, I really wanna fuck you on your bed.” Hoseok gasps out as he pulls away once more, trying to avoid your grasping hands with a breathy laugh. 

You don’t even question it, getting up quickly and practically tugging him into your bedroom in your eagerness. The sheer laugh of delight he gives you as you do so invigorates you, bolstering the confidence that’s spurring you on and you hope it lasts.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him into a kiss once you’re in the safe haven of your bedroom, you prepare to trust him with your insecurities once more.

[wellhellsbelles]

would you like to ever do a riarkle enemies to lovers fic? because i've seen only like 2 enemies to lovers riarkle fics and i think it'd be really cool to see them in a different dynamic

oh WOULD I 

yes i would and i loved every minute of writing this. it’s based VERY LOOSELY on my experience as a hostess in the popular chain italian restaurant we all know and love

anyway, enjoy!!

ao3 link or read below

//

Riley doesn’t intend on making any enemies when she starts working at the restaurant.

 It just sort of . . . happens.

She’d like to think she has the supposed “Big Five” personality traits on lockdown—she’s a very agreeable person, incredibly open with others, positively extroverted, astute in conscientiousness, and her neuroticism . . .

Well, she could maybe stand to work on it a bit, but can she be calm? Absolutely.

There’s just something about Farkle Minkus that makes her want to drive a spork into her leg, though.

It’s a weird sort of dichotomy they form together, despite not being too different from one another. They hold the same sort of power in the restaurant—she’s a host, he’s a busser, and they both get paid minimum wage. While she guides the guests around the restaurant, he cleans up tables and spills, and there should be no reason for the animosity that they harbor for another.

If you ask Riley, she’d chalk it up to her first busy night at the restaurant. The night had bogged her down as she ran around the restaurant, seating guests and refilling anything they needed if she happened to be passing by them. At one point, she’d been asked to help bus tables—something she knew she’d be awful at—and he’d strolled up to her while she was trying to pick up plates, taking them from her grasp forcefully.

“Look, if you’re going to help, then actually do something useful. You’re moving about as slow as a turtle and it’s infuriating,” he had grumbled to her. “Why don’t you go be a good host and greet people with a fake smile and annoying personality?”

Yeah, that’d cinch the nail in the coffin for anyone, she assumes.

How dare he say she had an annoying personality! She was a freakin’ charm to have around, and most of the people working at the restaurant already got along with her. Why was it so hard for him to accept that fact?

Riley didn’t wish to dwell on it, so she didn’t. But she did make enemies with Farkle that night, point blank.

 //

 “Hey Minkus, mind bussing those tables I asked you to bus twenty minutes ago?” Riley calls into the headset. She’d been fed up with another busy night, and Farkle’s attitude was not cutting it for her. She nearly startled when he rounded the corner, though, his permanent look of disdain greeting her.

“You know, bussers don’t just clean tables. In fact, they actually have to listen when managers ask them to do other tasks around the restaurant,” he says, adjusting the sleeves of his black button-up that he had pushed up his forearms.

“And you know I need tables, yeah? We’re on a wait,” Riley argues back. He gives her one last glare before disappearing back into the dining rooms, and Riley hears someone whistle behind her back.

“You know you egg him on just as much as he does you, right?” Maya, one of the servers who’s quickly become her best friend at the restaurant, tells her, leaning against the host stand. Riley shakes her head.

“Not true. He started it, anyway!”

“And you can’t let bygones be bygones?”

“Why on earth should I do that?” Riley asks, incredulous. Maya shrugs.

“I dunno. Besides the fact that the two of you have undeniable chemistry? Or similar personalities? Or the same friend groups around here?”

“What do you mean ‘undeniable chemistry’? We hate each other!” Riley exclaims.

“We often harbor love under the guise of hatred,” Maya states, earning her a disgusted expression from Riley.

“Don’t you have tables to serve?”

“After your boyfriend cleans them up, yeah.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!!” Riley shouts after her friend as she leaves, the sound of chuckling fading off around the corner.

 //

 “So Zay calls out and you’re the only person who can fill his role as a host tonight?” Riley asks Farkle, exasperated. It’s a little strange to see him sans apron, standing at the host stand like he’s the same level as her.

He’s not.

“Imagine, being ungrateful that someone was able to pick up his shift so you wouldn’t be on your own. Are you always this disagreeable in the morning or is that just how you are normally?” he counters.

Riley moves to continue their argument, but guests wander up to the host stand, so she drops it for the sake of doing the job she’s being paid for. She insists on seating them in the system and then guiding them to their table, sure that Farkle will mess it up somehow. When she returns, he’s got a smug grin on his face that causes her blood to boil.

“What’s the face for?” she prods.

“Well, if I didn’t have one it’d be quite disturbing, frankly,” he snarks back. Riley would throw things at him, if she didn’t have to keep her cool for the sake of the job.

“What’s the face for?” she tries again, this time more forcefully.

“I like that you won’t let me do anything. I could make your job ten times easier by seating tables for you, but you insist on taking care of everything. Are you really that stubborn?”

“Kettle meet pot,” she huffs, turning away from him with arms crossed and nose stuck high in the air. He simply laughs and the two of them return to silence soon after, refusing to engage any further in conversation for the rest of their shifts.

 //

 The restaurant holds a potluck for Thanksgiving two days before the actual holiday. It’s a tradition set by the general manager that a lot of people enjoy engaging in, and after further convincing from Maya, Riley decides to attend. Besides, Lucas is going to be there, and she may have the smallest, tiniest of crushes on him.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter.

Riley does prepare a dish at the behest of Maya (Maya could probably goad her into anything at this point, really). She wants to do macaroni and cheese, but when she hears that Darby is going to she attempts to figure something else out, but Maya reassures her.

“Darby makes it from the box,” she explains, “And it’s always the worst. I love her, but she finds a way to ruin even the simplest of foods.”

“So it’s really okay if I make macaroni and cheese? My grandma really does have an awesome recipe for it . . .”

“Riley,” Maya says, stern, “I think I speak for everyone when I say please, for the love of god make that mac. We need quality mac this year for once.”

She doesn’t work that day, so Maya tells her she’ll pick her up right before the potluck. Riley sleeps in and then spends the rest of her hours preparing the macaroni and cheese fresh, spending a little bit of the extra time for showering, dressing, and maybe putting on a little bit of makeup.

Riley pulls the dish out of the oven with a minute to spare, grabbing a box to hold it in so it doesn’t burn her and the rest of her things, heading out the door when she receives a message from Maya telling her that she’s waiting outside. She pulls together all her things and makes a mad dash for the door, joining her friend inside the car so that they can drive off to their workplace.

Riley has to admit she’s a bit nervous—she’s been working there only a couple of months, and while she does get along with everyone, she knows she’s still new, still not quite a perfect fit in this little carefully constructed family. She hopes that this will aid to ease her anxiety and make her feel a little more solidified in their group and that she’ll just have a good time in general. This job . . . she’s grown to care for it, more than she’d care to admit.

They pull up outside the restaurant and Riley jumps out once they’ve parked, grabbing her macaroni and cheese and tailing behind Maya once she’s retrieved her own dessert from the back seat of the car. The doors click as they lock and the two of them walk inside, Maya with confidence and Riley a tad skittish behind her. They greet the two hosts manning the front, having to miss out on the celebration for a moment, and then head towards the back dining room where their party is taking place.

“Maya! Riley! Glad you two could join us,” their general manager Jon greets them. “You two can go ahead and set your food down at the tables over there and we’ll get ready to eat in a few minutes.”

They nod and do as they’re told, Riley splitting off from Maya to set her food on the table closest to her while Maya sets her dish down on the dessert table. She waits to take cue from Maya, embarrassed to be tailing her like a dog, but shakes the feeling as Maya takes a seat at one of the booths. Riley joins her, realizing one moment too late that Maya’s chatting up Farkle Minkus of all people.

“You bring anything for us, Minkus?” Maya asks, engaging him in conversation. Farkle snorts.

“God no. The last thing we need is me exploding a kitchen from my poor cooking skills. There’s a reason I’m a busser and not on the line.”

“Don’t you have a cook or something rich people can afford who can do things for you?” Maya snarks.

“Would you laugh if I say yes?” Farkle sighs, earning him a cackle from Maya.

Riley tries to restrain her curiosity, but it’s already been piqued—if Farkle is rich, then why is he working as a busser at a chain restaurant?

Whatever. Riley doesn’t care.

She spends the rest of Maya and Farkle’s conversation on the outside listening in, not really wanting to participate in conversation with Farkle because he’s, well, Farkle. Maya seems to respect her feelings, not pestering her to join, and for that Riley is thankful. She just waits in her seat patiently, ready for the eating portion of their get-together to start. Unfortunately, she has to wait another fifteen minutes for that, but half-way through she gets distracted because of Lucas’ appearance, trying her best to work up the courage to talk to him. He’s still in his work uniform—black button-up and black work pants, the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm—and it shouldn’t work for him but it does.

Right as she finally rises from her seat, deciding that she will talk to him, their general manager announces that it’s time for them to eat. He pulls them all into a quick little prayer before allowing people to start grabbing food, and by then Lucas is caught up in his own conversation with the people he’s friends with at work. Riley sighs, giving up as she joins Maya and Farkle at the buffet line their manager put together. She piles the food on her plate and then sits back down at their little booth, uncharacteristically quiet as Maya and Farkle sit back down.

“Okay, I swear to you that Yogi’s changed the recipe for this green bean casserole. It actually tastes good this year,” Maya says.

“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t do mushrooms,” Farkle tells her, wrinkling his nose at it.

“Do you not like mushrooms either, Riley?” Maya asks her, finally inviting her in to start talking. Riley shakes her head.

“No, I just don’t really like green bean casserole.”

“Holy shit,” Farkle interjects through a mouthful of food, “Darby’s really stepped it up with the macaroni and cheese. This stuff tastes like heaven.”

Riley stops, her mouth dropping open in surprise at his words. Maya’s mouth turns upwards into a brilliant, shit-eating grin that Riley just wants to wipe off her face but knows she can’t. It’s too late; the damage is done.

“That’s because Darby didn’t make it,” Maya tells him, the excitement unrestrained in her voice, “Riley did.”

Farkle registers her words, his chewing slowing down as realization dawns on his face. She half-expects him to spit it out, to retract his statement or do something else drastic, but he doesn’t. He swallows the mouthful of macaroni and cheese, sets his fork down, and meeting Riley’s gaze says, “This is really, really fantastic macaroni and cheese, Riley. Some of the best I’ve ever had. Good job.”

Riley will admit, she didn’t think Farkle would be the one to extend the olive branch between the two of them, but he does it all the same. She recognizes that her response to him will make or break the situation, but she’s not one to drop a compliment, especially one that has her blushing furiously. She can’t control it, not really, and she definitely can’t control the bashful smile that graces her face, so what the hell.

“Thanks, Farkle. I’m glad you enjoy it,” she tells him sincerely, her words startling him, too. But then he beams a grin back and Riley knows she can no longer be mad at him, not after that.

 Damnit.

 //

Friendship with Farkle after Thanksgiving is practically flawless. Riley doesn’t want to tell Maya she’s right because Maya will hold it over her for the rest of forever, but Riley and Farkle really do have a lot in common. He makes it easy to be his friend, so much so that she forgets she was ever mad at him and that she didn’t like him at all. They spend a good portion of their day complaining about someone or something from work and when they aren’t talking about that, they’re talking about outer space or their favorite tv shows or just anything.

It’s kind of ridiculous, but then again, Riley absolutely loves it. It makes working at least ten times easier now that they get along, but if anyone notices it, they don’t mention it aloud. The restaurant moves on with its day as if nothing has changed, but Riley is privy to the shift.

Regardless, their friendship is still brand new, still hanging on by a tumultuous thread. It’s something Riley can’t quite define, but it feels like the foundations are still shaky, like there’s something else that rests in the air between them when their conversations reach a lull during a slow day.

Maya voices her opinion on the subject after Riley mentions it while they’re getting ready for a costume party Sarah’s holding (“Halloween in December,” Sarah tells Riley, “It’s kinda my thing.”) Maya’s finished putting on her sexy ringmaster costume and has moved onto applying her makeup while Riley tries to wrangle and curl her hair into submission.

“It’s because you like him,” Maya tells her, working on her winged eyeliner with Bobby Fisher-like intensity.

“What? No I don’t,” Riley insists. “Farkle and I just became friends.”

“And this is supposed to deter my opinion on that? I already told you before that you had undeniable chemistry. But now you two actually get along, so now you can’t hide it.”

Riley has half a mind to make Maya mess up her eyeliner, but she’s not cruel. She’ll just remain disgruntled about the matter for the rest of the night.

Maya helps Riley with the rest of her angel costume after her hair is curled completely, and once they’ve pulled Riley’s wings on, they grab their things and leave Maya’s house. Maya drives them to the party and when they pull up, Riley has to admit that while she knew a lot of people were going to attend the party, she didn’t know this many people would be here. Cars line the empty space around Sarah’s place and partygoers are already hanging out on the lawn, enjoying themselves as the music blasts from inside the house.

Riley feels a nervous energy course within her as they walk up the sidewalk to the house. She’s excited for the party, she really is, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t anxious about it, too. All of that washes away the moment she and Maya step inside, their friends greeting them happily and complimenting their costumes.

“Oh my god, you guys finally made it!” Zay exclaims, a wide grin on his face. “Those costumes are dope as hell!”

“Thanks, of course they are,” Maya says, winking at him slyly. “But what are you supposed to be?”

Zay flashes his teeth, revealing a set of pointed fangs on the top and bottom.

“Teen Wolf!”

“That is both lame and fantastic,” Maya laughs, then turns to search the room. “Farkle here yet?”

“Yeah, last I saw he was playing beer pong with Lucas and couple of others. Why don’t you two get some drinks and then we’ll head that way,” he suggests. Maya nods and they follow him to what Riley supposes is the kitchen. He mixes them up a couple of drinks and hands them off to them, chuckling when Riley sniffs hers and scrunches her nose in disgust.

“Jeez, how much alcohol did you put in this, Zay?” she asks.

“Enough. Now drink up and let’s go, Matthews!”

She sighs and gives in, stealing a sip as they make their way to where Farkle and Lucas are. She almost gags at the pungent liquor smell again but drinks it anyway. It’s a good thing, too, because when they find the supposed beer pong tournament, it’s not Lucas who has her heart racing.

“Maya,” Farkle greets her when he spots her, but when his gaze lands on Riley, he practically beams. “Riley! I’m so glad you could make it!”

Words seem to fail Riley right now. She’s not sure why she’s feeling so off but seeing Farkle dressed as gladiator has sent her off-kilter. He looks so damn good in his costume and she starts debating whether or not she should abandon the drink Zay gave her altogether if it’s making her act like this.

“Hey, Farkle, good to see you, too,” she finally manages awkwardly, huffing in embarrassment before backing her drink like there’s no tomorrow. So much for abandoning it.

“Whoa,” Maya gasps, rushing over to Riley’s side, “What are you doing?! I thought you told me earlier you were going to take it easy.”

“I lied. Wanna make me another drink? I’m gonna need it,” she insists, ushering Maya back to the kitchen. As soon as they’ve made it, Maya shakes Riley off of her, glaring at her.

“What the hell was that about?!” she yells. Riley opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again as she goes through the five stages of grief in her mind. After a moment of silence and Maya waving her hand sporadically in Riley’s face to bring her back to earth, she says,

“I couldn’t be there anymore. I need more alcohol if I’m going to get through this night.”

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this? You were fine until we—” Maya pauses, then realization dawns on her face, “Oh!”

“Maya—”

“Holy shit, you don’t wanna go back there because you think Farkle looks hot in his costume. This is hilarious.”

“No it’s not! I don’t have feelings for him, I just think he looks . . . really good,” Riley tries, but Maya’s already grinning like an idiot.

“Now we have to get back there. I’m going to try so hard to set the two of you up it’s not even funny.”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t wanna be set up!” Riley exclaims, but it’s too late. Her decision has been made.

“I’ll make you a drink and then I’m gonna get you alone with Farkle. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

Riley groans, knowing she’s fighting a losing battle.

She does loosen up a bit after she’s finished off the second drink, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna give into her friend’s plan.

And Maya does follow up on her promise despite Riley’s every effort to make it hard for them to be alone—after many failed attempts, she forces them in a spin the bottle circle. Riley only agrees to it because she’s borderline drunk and doesn’t care about a quick kiss with anyone, but when she finds out that whoever the bottle lands on is sent to the closet for seven minutes in heaven, she tries to run.

But it’s too late.

Maya’s spinning skills are off the charts, the bottle ends landing between Riley and Farkle. Everyone whoops and hollers at them except for Riley and Farkle themselves, but they still go follow the rules begrudgingly, allowing themselves to be shoved into a closet for everyone else’s entertainment.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Maya’s muffled yell erupts from beyond the closed door. Riley sighs.

“You know we don’t have to do anything in here, right?” Farkle tells her. “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Really?” Riley asks, spinning to turn and look at him, but that ends up being a mistake. She’d misjudged just how small the closet was, and she ends up pressed against him, his arms gripping her biceps when she stumbles a bit from the alcohol.

Whatever words Farkle wanted to say have since died on his lips, if his comically large eyes were anything to go by. Riley knows she’s gone though when she finds herself lost in the stormy gray irises of his, her brain actually entertaining the thought of kissing him.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I did, right? her brain asks her.

Right, her heart agrees.

Testing a theory, Riley’s hands rise to rest gently against Farkle’s cheeks. His breath stutters as soon as her fingers grace his skin, and she knows there’s no going back when she glances at his mouth before leaning in.

This is such a bad idea, she tells herself, But I don’t think I care enough to stop it.

Right when mouth is only centimeters away from Farkle’s, close enough that she can feel his breath ghosting her lips, the closet door swings open. Farkle and Riley jump apart, and whatever spell befell her has washed away, leaving confusion in its wake.

“Alright you two, get out so the rest of us can have some fun!” someone shouts. Riley nods and ditches Farkle, grabbing Maya by the arm and tugging her outside urgently.

“What the hell, Riley?” Maya grumbles as soon as they stop in what Riley deems is a quiet area.

“I think I have a crush on Farkle. I have a crush on Farkle, don’t I?” Riley asks.

“No shit,” Maya says, rolling her eyes, “You kind of made that abundantly clear tonight. But after all that hard work I went through you didn’t even follow through!”

“How can you tell?” Riley frowns.

“Because your lipstick is still perfectly fine, red as can be. If you kissed him, it’d be smudged and all over his mouth. Plus, I don’t really think Farkle would’ve survived it. I think he’d probably need to sit down for the next century in order to process it all.”

“You’re the worst,” Riley whines. Maya pats her shoulders sympathetically.

“I know, Sunshine. I know.”

 //

 Riley’s never been one to know how to act around crushes, but her crush on Farkle has rendered her absolutely neurotic. She still talks to him, of course, but she has a harder time starting conversations. What would he even want to talk about? Does he even want to talk with her?

It’s Riley’s favorite pastime, going into the land of overthinking. She excels at it a little too well.

After two weeks of utter turmoil and downright awkward interactions with Farkle, she thinks that maybe she’s just eternally hopeless. Whatever she might feel for Farkle doesn’t matter, because she can’t even figure out how to just be around him. She may as well just quit while she’s ahead and just give up on the hopes of ever being near him again.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t get that option.

Her manager suggests one morning that Farkle help her unload the boxes of wine they just got in, and when Farkle asks if she wants help, she says yes. Normally, she’s used to unloading it all on her own, but the thought of spending quality time with him is just too tempting to pass up and her brain is just dumb dumb dumb.

The restaurant is quiet as they unload each case of wine, save for the never-ending music selection on repeat with eight versions of the same five songs. But it’s nice, sharing a moment with him where they don’t have to talk about anything, just stock wine in the coolers.

Nice, of course, up until their fingers brush up against one another’s, sending electricity coursing straight through Riley’s system. She wonders if he feels it, too, but she doesn’t have to worry any longer when his gaze finally meets hers, the shock apparent on his face. They endure a long moment of silence until Riley can bear it no more, the words falling out of her mouth unbidden.

“Farkle, I really really like you. As in like like you,” Riley blurts.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes before pulling her in for a kiss.

It shouldn’t be great kiss, by all means—they’re both kneeling behind the host stand, the cooler doors open and bottles of wine still waiting to be stocked while a jazzy version of Wonderwall plays in the background. But that doesn’t matter to Riley; she’s with Farkle and they’re kissing and she never wants this moment to end.

It does, though.

“Ahem,” a voice clears their throat, causing Riley and Farkle to split. She has an oh shit moment when she thinks it might be their manager who’s caught them kissing while on the clock, but then it’s even worse when Riley realizes who it is.

“Oh. Hey, Maya,” Farkle greets her sheepishly, earning him a cackle from Maya.

“This is fantastic! I love being right!” she shouts.

Riley buries her head in Farkle’s shoulder in embarrassment, but she smiles secretly—

She loves that Maya was right, too.

[lamiasluck]

Sweetening the Deal

I have bigger fics in the works but I managed to whip this up quickly from a concept @emptynarration and I thought of before! It’s just another interpretation of heric because I can’t help myself 

Summary: Host invites Eric to see his morbid radio show live. Of course, the shy ego is put off by the horrors he narrates, so perhaps Eric can do something to deter him from committing a crime. It will be one less dead character.

Tags: @alvie-ashgrove @theshysepticeye @verse2wo @juju-on-that-yeet (sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged ;^;)

Warnings: minor violence (nothing too bad tho)

-

“Michelle finds herself wandering aimlessly through the forest. She swears she’s seen this area 50 times already. Or perhaps she hasn’t. Every bit of nature within such a dense place blends together after a while.” Host tilts his head and smiles. His tone reflects his actions well. “Will she ever find her dearest friend with such taxing conditions? It seems like her body is screaming for rest.”

The old tv screens buzz lowly and showcase Host’s story from every angle. He has no use for them, truly, but he likes having a live crowd to see the intricacies of his work. His onlooker today, Eric, watches on with an unsettling pit forming in his stomach. The squeamish crowds always make him enjoy the process more. Makes him know he’s doing a good job with his material.

Someone gave the timid ego a chocolate bar before starting to shut him up as if he is a rowdy dog. Not like Eric wants to interrupt Host while he works, though it gets hard with how badly he feels for the characters. Maybe the others feel bad that the twisted radio host likes to tug him along for private showings of his stories. Well, the chocolate somewhat helps. He tries to focus on the sweetness as tv’s poor audio quality picks up on a desperate cry.

Eric looks up at one of the screens. Host’s character is weeping on her knees, cursing out to the cruel gods that let this happen. Host is no god. He’s simply a man that gets too power-hungry to control himself. Not like this poor character knows. She won’t survive to make it to the second act at this rate.

“Despite the odd and unscripted action,” Host’s tone turns bitter as he digs his nails into the wooden desk, “Michelle forces herself up to continue her search.” One thing he hates: uncooperative characters. A pet peeve that has always been with him even in his past life as Author. “After a minute, she slams her head into a tree because clearly she wants to think irrationally.”

Host takes a minute to cool himself down. Eric flinches in his seat as the character does exactly what Host narrated. The man can control the masses with his narrations. Eric is glad Host seems content to settle with these little stories for now, and that he agrees to not hurt him or any of the other egos. Who knows what will happen if, god forbid, he grows bored of these tales.

“Eventually, after her little episode, she continues on in her search. It seems more like a fruitless task with each passing minute.” Host drums his fingers on the desk as his smooth, calm voice returns. Zero to a hundred just like that. Though, he is growing bored of this slow burn.

Something is moving on one of the screens, and it isn’t the main character. Eric catches glimpses of a shadowy figure dash by one of the lower TVs. Host isn’t phased by it, meaning he knows it's there. This isn’t going to go well. Eric knows he won’t be able to stomach what he has planned, so in a fit of impulse, he decides to try to suggest his own ending.

With a quick motion, Eric stands up and clicks the off button on Host’s microphone; right before Host can narrate again. As quick as that happens, he backs away and chews on his lip. He’s holding what’s left of his candy close to his chest like it will protect him.

It’s quiet for a moment. Host slowly turns around and tilts his head up as if he can look at Eric. “What was that?” He asks in an annoyed voice. Truly, he can’t find himself too mad at the other. Something about that nervousness endears him, but he can’t just have people interrupt his show like that. He has people to entertain! Characters to fuck with!

“Um...” Eric looks down at his feet, “I-I, uh, wanted to suggest something?”

“The Host doesn’t take story suggestions,” he replies, deadpanned. He goes to turn on his microphone again, but Eric catches his hand.

“Please!” He squeaks. “I really, um, r-really want to!”

Host notices how clammy Eric’s hand is. Maybe also how soft and nice it is to hold, but he digresses. That’s something he’ll address another time.

With a loud sigh, Host mutters, “Fine.” He lightly scraps Eric’s knuckles with his nails, which makes the other’s hand twitch in his hold. “Make this worth the Host’s time.”

“I will!” Eric may not have any sort of plan. He hastily takes back his hand and thinks quickly. “Can th-there be a-a happy ending...?”

Host scoffs, “Where’s the fun in that? Boring.”

“B-But you always have, uh, such sad stories! You sh-should, should change it up.” He looks back at the screen and notices the shadow traveling across the screens. Towards the main character. “I-I can give you, um...” his voice becomes quieter, if that is possible, “the rest of this chocolate...?”

Oddly enough, Host pouts a little. “Was Eric not going to share that candy in the first place?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically weak.

“That worked?” Eric blinks but quickly recovers from his shock. He hides the candy behind his back and huffs at Host. “Yeah! I-I only give you this if you, if-if you let her find her friend! An-And get home safely!”

To add to the fire, he breaks off a little piece of chocolate and eats it. “This is really good too. Your loss if you don’t want to accept! I’ll just, just eat this by. My. Self.” He pops another piece in his mouth and gloats about it.

“That’s so mean,” Host says as if he isn’t going to let a monster maim his poor main character. That chocolate did look good. Most likely, Wilford got it from some fancy chocolatier from god knows where. The really rare stuff. Yet, Eric doesn’t budge even with the high stakes in this deal. Host eventually gives up. “Very well then.”

He turns back around and clicks on his microphone. “In a surprising turn of events, Michelle has a feeling of where to go.” The shadowy figure fades away, much to Eric’s relief. “As she expertly traverses the woods, she finds a key. This is no ordinary key, however, as it’s the one she needs to unlock the cage her friend resides in. To add on the unlikely events, her friend is unharmed.”

Eric watches with a smile as the scene plays before him. To think he saved two people’s lives with some candy. Life with the egos is one surprise after another.

“They share a tight embrace as they’re finally reunited. Safe and sound as they should be. Michelle manages to weave them out of the forest, where they find more luck in hitchhiking their way back home. One day, what should have been a nightmare, will become a fun story to tell their friends and family during get-togethers. The end.” It hurts Host to have such a vanilla ending. There are no stakes here. Absolutely no fun to be had in this story. “That, dear listeners, is an impromptu rewrite caused by powers out of the Host’s control. He promises to bring a better, more eventful story next broadcast. May that tale find his listeners in good health. Goodnight.”

The microphone and radio are clicked off. In unison, the TVs switch off, and the buzzing stops. Completely silent.

Host turns around again and extends his hand. “The Host will take his prize now.”

Eric quickly hands him the candy bar with a shy smile. “Thank you...”

With an emotionless hum, Host breaks off a piece of chocolate. As he eats it, a grin appears on his face. “Now that was fun.”

“Wh-What...?”

“Not the story, of course. No, that was painful to describe,” Host exaggerates with a drawn-out sigh. Again, his mood quickly changes into something mischievous. “The way Eric acted. The Host has never seen such a display from him before.”

He breaks off another piece and puts it between Eric’s slightly parted, surprised lips. “Perhaps there is more than the cowardly lion here. Something to definitely look into in the future.”

The sweetness brings Eric out of his trace. He looks up at Host with a worried expression. “Wait... wh-what do you mean ‘l-look into’?”

Host simply ignores him and grabs his arm. “Come along now.” They start walking out of the library. “Eric should eat more than mere candy,” he says as he only eats mere candy for dinner. “There’s lots to explore with this new revelation.”

A shiver is sent down Eric’s spine. He follows the other obediently as his mind swims in worried thoughts. The way Host talks about him and his confidence. Somehow, someway, he managed to become a character in Host’s twisted narrative. All because of some dumb chocolate.

[peachy-beomie]

Holding You In My Heart (Until I Can Hold You In My Arms) <KUNTEN>

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee)

Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: None!

Synopsis: COVID AU in which Kun sets up a bunch of cute zoom dates for him and his boyfriend.

A/N: I got bored and I really want to start working on my masterlist so I decided to post this :D

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410125

From: qiankunprod@gmail.com

To: chittaphonleechaiyapornkul@yahoo.com

Join Zoom Meeting

{zoom link}

I stare quizzically at the email that pops up on my screen, interrupting my FRIENDS marathon. The message comes from none other than my boyfriend Kun, who’s been spending all of quarantine so far looking for ways for us to go on dates.

When COVID hit, Kun and I were forced to confine ourselves in our respective apartments, limiting contact. It hasn’t been too hard thus far, we call and text everyday without fail. Simple good mornings and silly pictures of my cat sufficed for the first month or so. But as the quarantine dragged on, I began missing Kun’s face more and more. We hadn’t been on a proper date in god knows how long, and it was starting to impact my mental health.

Curiosity consumes me as I click the link, awaiting whatever dorky plot Kun had conjured up. Within seconds his lopsided grin filled my screen and drew a small smile from my lips.

“Hi Sunshine!” He greets cheerfully, the familiar pet name bringing warmth to my cheeks.

“Heya baby, what’s this about?”

“Nothing, just missed you.” Kun’s tone has a hint of mischief that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. But playing along with Kun is way more fun than interrogating him.

“Mmm not as much as I missed you. You sure there’s no special reason for this?” I can see Kun’s eyes sparkling despite the low quality graphics.

“Weeeeellllllll I suppose I did want to ask if you’d want to go on a date?”

“A date? How would we do that?”

“Like this!” Kun gestures eagerly at the screen. “Through zoom! I found all kinds of fun things we can do.”

“And when would we do this?”

“I mean I’m free now…” Kun suggests, eliciting a giggle from me. Sometimes Kun’s cuteness is unbelievable.

“That works for me. What’d you have in mind baby?” Kun’s eyes sparkle mischievously.

“Wanna get your ass whooped at Mario Kart?”

“In your d r e a m s Qian.”

⏳

After that initial date, zoom dates with Kun became a frequent occurance. Kun wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of ideas. He set up so many dates ranging from movie nights (“You know he comes back in the next movie right?” “TOM HOLLAND IS TOO HOT TO DIE KUN.”) to a talent show consisting mostly of magic and Louis ignoring my attempts to make him do tricks. I began to look forward to each and every one of the meetings. Especially if it’s my turn to plan the date (“It’s more fun playing Just Dance against you cause you’re uncoordinated and I always win.” “Shut up.”). Dates with Kun made quarantine far more tolerable, though I still missed cuddling with Kun. The teddy bear he sent me as a replacement was a kind gesture though.

I hold it close as I watch Kun struggle to repeat the steps I taught him. A small chuckle escapes my lips, and Kun immediately turns to me with a pout.

“Don’t laugh, I think I’m doing alright.”

“Oh yeah at this pace you’ll be in level 2 hiphop in no time,” I joke, only laughing harder at the huff Kun lets out. “I wasn’t laughing at you darling, just thinking about how much I love you.” The older boy looks slightly stunned by my confession but he’s beaming from ear to ear within seconds.

“I love you too Sunshine.”

***

“It’s way too salty.”

“I told you the recipe didn’t call for a cup of salt but you wouldn’t listen!!!” I giggle at my exasperated boyfriend before putting the failed noodle dish in the sink.

“Maybe I should hire a better teacher.”

“Good luck finding someone else who’ll tolerate your bullshit like I do,” We both chuckle at that. “Are you available for another date Friday night?”

I pretend to think it over before shrugging, “I suppose I can fit you into my schedule.” Kun glares cutely at me through the screen. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise.” Kun wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

“Sounds mysterious.”

“Well if I recall correctly you love suspense,” Kun muses, “You in?”

“Of course.”

Kun tries to keep up his mysterious demeanor, but the way he visibly lights up at my confirmation is impossible to miss.

“Then I’ll see you in 3 days sunshine.” And with a final wink, he ends the meeting.

Cheeky fucker.

⏳

Finding the patience to wait for Kun’s surprise proved quite challenging. I couldn’t help but mull over what on earth the older man had planned. The existence of the mystery lifted my previously sour mood, but I couldn’t for the life of me solve for x while Kun’s gleeful words raced through my head.

After nearly an hour of staring at the same math question, I decide planning my outfit would be a better use of my time. Considering I have no idea what Kun is planning, I try to pick an outfit that’s casual but also pretty. I didn’t want to overdo it (it’s only a zoom date after all) but I also wanted Kun to know I tried. I tear my closet apart for about 20 minutes before settling on my favorite white tee and jeans. I also opt to do a little makeup, knowing Kun would appreciate it. Showering, makeup, and hair take up the rest of my time and before I know it, it’s time for our zoom date.

It appears I wasn’t the only one looking forward to the date because even though I logged on a whole 5 minutes early, Kun was already waiting to admit me.

“Someone’s excited.” I tease, proud of the light pink that dusts kun’s cheeks

“I’m the host, what’s your excuse?” He chuckles lightly. “You look gorgeous Sunshine.”

“Not so bad yourself,” my teasing tone barely disguises the obvious want in my voice. Cause Kun. Looks. Adorable. It’s not that he’s dressed up, not at all actually. He’s dressed somewhat similarly to me, drowning in a plain collared long sleeve. The sleeves are long enough to cover his hands, giving him sweater paws that make him appear not only soft, but tiny. His chocolate brown hair is mussed up, only adding to the overall image. To top it all off, he seems to be wearing a little bit of lip balm. I have never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life.

“You frozen there lovebug?” Kun’s amused comment breaks me out of my stupor.

“Nope, just enjoying the view,” I wink nonchalantly once again relishing in the blush rising up Kun’s neck. “So what’s your plan?”

“You should be finding out in about…” He checks his watch dramatically, “5 minutes.” I could only giggle in response as I watched my boyfriend, eyes gleaming with mischief. As I may have mentioned previously: Kun is a dork. He enjoys setting up dates a lot (maybe a bit too much). He likes to come up with weird creative ideas for us to try. It’s one of the things I love most about him. And the way his gaze is flitting every which way and his legs are bouncing all over the place is a clear sign that he’s extremely proud of whatever he’s planned.

A few minutes of mindless chitchat later, I hear the doorbell ring. I give Kun a knowing look as he pretends not to know what’s going on. I open the door to see two boxes of take out from my favorite restaurant. I turn to Kun on the screen.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did sunshine.”

As I open the delicious smelling box I see that he’d gotten my favorite dish as well. He’d remembered every detail of it. A few tears escape my eyes against my will. Kun seems confused and concerned by my reaction, his beautiful features melting into a frown.

“Did I get something wrong? I swear I checked like 8 times to make sure I just--”

“No Kun it’s perfect,” I smile wetly. “You got everything right baby, I’m just really lucky to have you.” Kun nods understandingly grinning to reveal his dimple, and all of a sudden I’m hit with a wave of sadness and longing. I want nothing more than to be there with Kun, to caress his cheeks and bury my head in his chest and kiss the freckle under his brow that I love so much. I’m hit all at once with the realization that I miss being with Kun, and suddenly the tears are streaming down my cheeks. Kun stays silent, patient as always and it only makes me want to cry more.

“I miss you so fucking much,” I whisper between sobs. My vision is far too blurry to see how Kun is reacting to my outburst. “I hate this stupid quarantine, and the stupid virus, and stupid zoom. I just w-want to hug you so bad kunkun.” My voice breaks at the end of my sobs.

“Aw baby, I know. Any time we do these dates I can’t help but miss everything about you. You mean so much to me and not being able to see you has been torture. But don’t worry too much Sunshine. This is not permanent. I’m confident we’ll be able to see each other again.” Kun’s eyes are practically pouring out affection and genuineness.

“I’m sorry for ruining the date.”

“If you don’t hush right now I’m going to find a way to Zoom slap you,” Kun teased. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for and you haven’t ruined anything. We can just eat and watch a movie together yeah?”

There on my couch, as I lost count of the hours going by with Kun’s voice in my ears: I realized that despite the unideal situation, we’d be okay.

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY:

[ridiasfangirlings]

Sarumi in a Boarding School AU? Haha honestly im not sure why but I like the idea of Fushimi and Yata being roommates who dont get along but, in classic romcom fashion, a series of coincidences and mishaps causes them to see each other in a new way. And of course the best part: the pining after they get through their differences, because their friends now but suddenly they want to be more aaaa yes the kind of quality trash im always thirsting for haha

Fushimi probably gets sent to boarding school so Kisa doesn't have to deal with him, like say this is right after Niki's death but since Fushimi doesn't have a Yata to move in with (yet ;D) he's stuck in the house alone. Kisa doesn't particularly want to have to deal with him so she decides the easiest thing is to send him to a decent boarding school where he'll be out of her hair. Yata meanwhile also gets sent to school maybe to like make some more room in the house but also hopefully to better his education, like Yata's stepdad works with someone who runs the school and offers to take Yata in as a student free of charge. Yata's kinda been struggling in normal school and the apartment his family lives in is pretty cramped so his stepdad figures this would be a good idea, Yata's not super into it because he assumes all boarding school kids are stuck up snobs but he also wants to take some of the burden off his parents so he agrees.

Yata gets to the school and is shown his room, he's all excited to meet his roommate and become bestest best friends. Unfortunately for Yata his roommate is Fushimi, who's probably annoyed that Kisa couldn't even splurge to get him his own room. The minute Yata walks in Fushimi's pretty much like 'don't talk to me,' focusing solely on his computer and his PDA and basically having no interest in making friends whatsoever. Yata's not so easily defeated though and he keeps trying to get Fushimi to open up, which makes Fushimi more annoyed and he starts snapping at Yata and probably calling him by his first name (which is right on the doorplate outside their room). Yata can't believe that a whole school full of kids and he gets the number one asshole as his roommate.

The two of them end up in a bunch of classes together, though maybe Fushimi has like extra classes afterward that are for the accelerated group and he keeps ditching them because Fushimi has no interest in schools or teachers. Yata on the other hand is struggling to keep up, no one really seems to have any interest in making sure he's getting the extra help he needs and he probably doesn't get along well with many of the other kids either, like most of the kids in this school are wealthy and learned all kinds of social etiquette and no one has any interest in loud, wild Yata. Yata doesn't even notice at first that Fushimi's being ostracized too though, like at first a lot of kids want to get close to Fushimi because everyone knows who his mom is but then when they see Fushimi's got no interest in anyone people start to leave him alone or try to bully him.

One day Yata forgets something after class and has to go back and get it, which is when he sees some of the other students picking on Fushimi. Yata thought these guys were Fushimi's friends and he's really confused, which is when maybe one of the kids starts taunting Fushimi about his dead dad. Fushimi immediately reacts violently to that (for reasons entirely opposite of what Yata assumes), like headbutting the guy who said it and that sets off a fight. Yata comes running in to the fray, deciding screw this he's going to help Fushimi even if Fushimi is a jerk (like at least Fushimi is an honest jerk instead of pretending to like people or acting fake-nice just to tease someone). The teachers eventually break the whole thing up and the other kids point fingers at Fushimi and Yata, Yata's like wait you guys started it but the teacher also assumes that Fushimi and Yata are troublemakers and they get detention together.

Yata's pissed at being put in detention for this, like he and Fushimi are left alone together in a room and told to write apology letters or something. Yata wonders out loud what he should write, like he's not sorry and those guys were out of line taunting Fushimi about his parents. Fushimi shrugs as he gets up, saying he doesn't care about his parents anyway and everyone here is worthless. As Yata watches Fushimi moves aside some books and starts to climb out this hidden window that he found a few days ago, Yata follows him and immediately thinks it's super cool that Fushimi found a way to sneak out of detention. At first Fushimi starts to tell Yata not to follow him but Yata's looking at him with shining eyes and finally Fushimi clicks his tongue and is like 'if you want to follow, come on.' The two of them spend the whole afternoon hanging out and dodging teachers before sneaking back into the detention room right before their time is up, afterward they go back to their room and Yata's just bubbling over with excitement and calling Fushimi amazing and Fushimi finds himself feeling suddenly lighter than he ever has before.

So now the two of them have become inseparable and they're probably total troublemakers, Fushimi getting Yata into all sorts of bad habits and Yata doesn't care because Saruhiko is the most amazing guy he's ever met. He knows though that the two of them are different and sometimes it makes him worried, like imagine they go home for summer holidays at one point and Yata thinks about how Fushimi's going back to some rich family while Yata's headed back to this crowded apartment. But then when they return to school Yata can tell that Fushimi's suddenly acting all distant and cold again, like something terrible happened when he was home and it makes Yata wonder what kind of life Fushimi has at home and is there a way Yata can protect him from everything. This then leads to the realization of how important Fushimi is to him and Yata starts becoming more and more aware of how physically close they are all the time. Fushimi meanwhile hates his family and wants nothing more than to stay with Yata but he also thinks that there's no way this can continue, like he knows Kisa can take him out of school at any time to use as like a pawn for his inheritance and such and he can't stand that idea, that he might have to leave and never see Yata again. Fushimi's also starting to feel emotions that he can't even recognize, like he has no idea what this warm feeling is in his cheeks every time Yata gets too close or why his gaze keeps lingering on Yata all the time when Yata's not looking and he's basically just got this huge crush and doesn’t know what to do with it.

[bytheangell]

Believe in Something Beautiful

(Read on AO3) (I tried to post this on the ask itself but Tumblr had a crisis and it got all messed up so I had to delete it and make a separate post OOPS) -------------

The opportunity Isabelle gets to study with the Iron Sisters is a once and a lifetime offer, and that’s on top of the fact that it’s something she’s personally dreamt of since she was a little girl. So of course Jace doesn’t so much as blink before agreeing to take over as temporary Head of the Institute while she’s away.

“Are you sure?” she asks for the millionth time before leaving as if this will be the time he suddenly decides to change his mind. “I know you hate the deskwork side of things, and-”

“Iz, it’s fine. It’ll just be a few months, I can handle it. I promise not to let the place burn down while you’re gone.”

The reservations she has are true, of course, but he isn’t going to admit that he’s secretly loathing not only being mostly resigned to an office for the duration of her trip but feeling much more alone without Alec or her around. Instead, he gives her a bright smile and shoos her out the door before she can stall any longer.

The first few days are definitely an adjustment but Jace actually kind of likes the new role once he gets into it. The paperwork sucks, sure, but he makes good use of the still impressively stocked drink cart Alec brought in when he was Head of the Institute, as well as the upgraded plush sofa Isabelle insisted on. All in all being stuck in this particular office isn’t too bad… at least not for the first few weeks.

After that Jace starts to go a little stir-crazy. He tries to keep up with his training, whether it’s with the other Shadowhunters or Simon or just on his own in the training room, but every time he does he’s pulled away for another debriefing or meeting, which leads to more reports until the day is over and it’s already time to go home.

Going ‘home’ nowadays, more often than not, has meant going back to Simon’s apartment. Sometimes Jace stays the night at the Institute but usually only when it’s absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he makes his way to Simon’s place for some quality time with his boyfriend. No matter how tired he is at the end of the day he’s rejuvenated by the sight of Simon, always eager to see him and listen to him complain about whatever nonsense he had to deal with that day. It’s a relationship Jace never saw coming, one he never would’ve imagined for himself in a million years, but’s it’s good. If he wasn’t afraid of jinxing it he might go so far as to say it’s perfect.

Things stay that way until a couple of months into Izzy’s absence. Jace can’t place it at first, just a lingering uncertainty which isn’t something he’s used to feeling. It doesn’t click until he’s training with some of the guys at the Institute and someone pokes a sparring staff at his stomach, making a joke about how he’s getting soft - literally - since taking over for Izzy. It’s an off-handed comment, nothing worse than Jace has said about any of them at one time or another and just meant to poke fun, but it hits something much deeper and Jace finds he can’t let the words slide off him like he normally does. He laughs with the others, of course, and thoroughly kicks their asses during the part of the session he manages to participate in before he’s pulled away to go over something strange on the surveillance cameras, but the words stick with him.

Soft. Jace Wayland has been called a number of things in his life, but soft has never been one of them before now.

When he’s changing in his room to go meet up with Simon, Jace spends a long time looking at himself in the mirror. He isn’t overweight, not given his body’s starting status of ‘abs-sculpted-like-a-statue’s’, but that only makes the lack of definition that much more obvious to him now. Simon hasn’t said anything but surely he’s noticed too, how could he not? Telling himself it isn’t a big deal Jace slips on a fresh shirt and a decent pair of dark jeans to meet Simon after work.

After dinner, sitting on the sofa with Simon’s hands sliding under his t-shirt and up his sides while they make out, Jace is acutely aware of the fact that there’s more to slide over now. When Simon pulls Jace closer by the waist he tenses at the touch as if aware for the first time of the way Simon’s fingers dip into the flesh there.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, stopping when Jace freezes up.

“I-” Jace starts, uncertain. “I don’t feel so great, actually. Might be something I ate. Mind if we... just don’t, tonight?” Jace feels immediately guilty for the half-truth. He doesn’t feel well all of a sudden but he knows exactly why, and it isn’t bad seafood.

“Of course,” Simon says easily, shifting so Jace can reposition himself next to Simon on the sofa. “Do you need anything? I could run to the store and get some medicine.”

Simon’s immediate concern only doubles Jace’s guilt. “No, I’ll be alright,” Jace insists, wondering if that’s a lie too as Simon turns on the TV until they both fall asleep on the sofa.

---

Jace leaves Simon’s place early enough the next morning to get in an hour-long run before he needs to be at the Institute. He knows it isn’t going to do much - it’s taken months of letting himself go to get this bad, he isn’t going to fix it with a day of jogging, but it feels better than doing nothing. For a few days he makes excuses to not go back to Simon’s place: waiting for a late patrol to come back, covering a security shift, even as lame of an excuse as ‘i’m too tired’ when there really is no other reason he can give.

He doesn’t lie… he just doesn’t add that he’s the one going out of his way to make sure he has things keeping him ‘stuck’ at the Institute at night, though he knows this can’t last forever.

So Jace starts to get clever. Whenever things start to get heated on the nights he does go back to Simon’s, Jace immediately takes control, insisting that he’s going to take care of Simon. It’s actually one of Jace’s favorite things, to watch the way Simon falls apart beneath Jace’s touches, the way he’s so blissed out by the end of a very thorough blowjob that he doesn’t argue too much when Jace insists he doesn’t want anything himself. The sex - the few times Jace lets things get that far - is rushed and always with the lights off, with Jace keeping as much clothing on as possible and almost always finding an excuse to not be able to stay afterward to cuddle.

He hopes, a bit naively, that as long as they’re still having sex that Simon won’t notice anything is wrong. Jace can’t remember the last time he let Simon see him naked, something that used to be very common for them, and he knows the lack of that sort of intimacy won’t go unnoticed forever. With all his other tactics Jace buys himself an extra week or two until Simon’s asking him if something’s wrong again.

“You just seem… distant lately,” Simon continues, concern written all over his face. Jace can’t stand the fact that he caused this gap between them but he can’t bring himself to admit what’s bothering him, either. He’s ruining everything and for what? Simon clearly doesn’t care.

Still, he can’t silence the voice in the back of his head reminding him that this isn’t who Simon signed up for. Jace is all quick wit and sarcasm, he’s confidence and an ego larger than all of Brooklyn. That’s who Simon fell for and expects from him, so that’s who Jace needs to be. He needs to figure out how to feel like himself again, and fast.

“Just a lot on my mind, work stuff. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Jace says, leaning in to give Simon a quick kiss.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About work, or whatever else is going on?” Simon offers.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Jace agrees quickly.

He then proceeds to bury every worry he has deep down into the back of his mind and does his best not to think about it, let alone talk about it, again.

---

Jace continues to make excuses, manipulate any intimate encounters for minimum contact, or just flat-out avoiding Simon entirely. Avoiding is easier than lying and Jace gets better at it as the days pass. Or maybe he just gets more used to it… he isn’t sure he likes the implication of either option.

At first, Simon tries to fight him on it - rearranging his schedule so he can visit Jace at the Institute, trying to insist Jace come over no matter how late it is, doing his best to puppy-dog-eye Jace into staying in bed for more than 5 seconds - but Jace manages to pull himself away every time.

After a while, Simon stops trying so hard. Then Simon stops trying entirely. After not hearing from Simon for two days in a row Jace ends up calling him instead of the other way around.

“Hey, I hadn’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry,” Jace says, relieved when Simon picks up.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Simon says, his tone casual. Jace can practically hear the shrug behind the words.

“What do you mean?” Jace asks, though he thinks he has a good idea.

“I mean, every time I’ve tried to make plans you blow them off anyway, so I figured I’d stop trying and you could just call me if you ever felt like leaving the Institute again,” Simon replies, and this time there’s a bit of an edge to his tone.

Jace deserves that, but he doesn’t expect it. Not from Simon.

Fuck, what is he doing? He could feel the gap between them forming, he knew he was the cause, and he still let things get so far that Simon has all but given up on him from the sound of it.

“I’m Sorry, Si.” That much isn’t a lie. Jace is sorry.

“Don’t be sorry,” Simon tells him, sounding sad and defeated, and about as tired as Jace keeps claiming to be. “If you’re bored with me just tell me, and we can stop pretending.”

There’s silence over the phone line while Jace processes those words. Is that really what Simon thinks? Is that what Jace let Simon think all this time?

“I’m not,” Jace insists. “It isn’t you, Simon, I swear.”

There’s a long pause, and with obvious reluctance Simon slowly asks, “Is there someone else?”

Jace can hear the fear in his voice, the dread of what answer may come from asking, and his heart breaks knowing it’s all his fault that Simon has these doubts about them.

“No,” Jace says, just as quickly as before. He’s messed things up worse than he realized and wonders if there’s going to be anything to salvage once he’s finally honest with Simon. He has to be honest now - there’s no other option. “We should talk, but not on the phone. Are you-” Jace starts to ask if Simon is free but remembers that he volunteered to take Underhill’s security shift that night so he could go on a date with Lorenzo. Of course, he took it to avoid Simon not knowing everything was going to go so wrong, so quickly. Overly aware of how bad this is going to look now of all times, Jace sighs. “I have to stay late tonight,” Jace winces as he admits. “But tomorrow? First thing in the morning. I’ll come straight over after the shift and we’ll talk.”

“Sure,” Simon agrees easily enough, except Jace knows him well enough to the doubt there, the way he doesn’t get his hopes up that Jace will follow through this time.

“I promise. As soon as the replacement shows up I’m gone. You’re my priority.” He’s already making a note to cancel a mid-day meeting he planned on attending after a few hours of rest, and one later in the afternoon just in case.

Just in case what? In case it takes all day to convince Simon to forgive him? In case Simon doesn’t forgive him and Jace is left to pick up the pieces of his failed relationship? Jace shakes the thought from his head, hoping he hasn’t messed things up that irreparably.

“I love you, Simon,” Jace tells him, holding his breath for the seconds that stretch on after his words before Simon sighs.

“I love you too, Jace.”

The line goes dead and Jace stares at the phone in his hand for several long minutes before pocketing it. The rest of the night is spent counting the seconds until the morning shift will take over while also dreading that moment in equal measure. What is he going to say? He has plenty of time to think about it left alone for most of the night, but he hates everything he comes up with. It doesn’t feel like enough, or it feels like too much, or it feels like he’s making excuses.

A few hours later, tired and weary, he’s out of time to think. The fresh air during his walk to Simon’s works well to clear his head and he reminds himself of one thing: he loves Simon, and he needs to figure out what he can do to fix what he broke. If he starts there then the rest will hopefully fall into place. It isn’t like he has many other options.

Jace knocks on the door and waits with bated breath.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he opens it, and Jace tries not to feel as hurt as he does by the surprised words. He deserves that. He deserves so much worse than that.

“I am,” Jace says. I always will be, if you let me. Please, let me stay, he wants to beg, but doesn’t. Simon steps aside and Jace goes in, making an immediate beeline for the sofa. He’s too anxious to sit, however, and stands back up almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Jace starts. It’s the simplest place.

“For…?” Simon prompts.

“For making you think you did something wrong. For avoiding you, instead of telling you what was bothering me.” Jace is certain there’s more than that he should apologize for but it seems like a good starting point. “It just felt so ridiculous, and I figured I’d just get over it… but I didn’t, and it was easier to avoid than admit until we talked last night and I realized how bad I let everything get and I- I don’t want to lose you, Simon.”

Simon, who was doing a very good job standing with his arms crossed looking unimpressed, softens considerably at that. “If it’s bothering you that much it isn’t ridiculous. And I kept telling you that you can talk to me, I wish that you had.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jace admits. “But I am now,” he adds hopefully. It might be too little too late but he has to try.

“So?” Simon prompts again, not letting up. “Do I get to know why my boyfriend’s been avoiding me, or are you just going to say sorry and try to pretend it never happened?”

“I was embarrassed because of the weight I put on.” Jace has to force the words out, already hating himself the moment he hears them leave his lips.

Jace expects Simon to laugh but instead Simon looks him up-and-down in consideration. “I wondered… but you have to know I don’t care about that, right?”

“You might not, but I do.” Jace frowns. “I didn’t realize just how much until I started going out of my way to avoid you even seeing me, let alone touching me.”

“That’s when you started insisting on all those ridiculous quickies,” Simon pieces together, shaking his head. “I should’ve realized.”

“No, I should’ve said something. I thought if I kept it up once and a while it’d be enough to hold things over until I got… comfortable again.”

Simon snorts at that, then looks immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I know this is serious, and the sex is great and all, but you do know I’m dating you for more than just that, right?”

Jace manages a small laugh at that. “I figured it was probably a 75/25 split,” he jokes back. This is a good sign, right? If Simons’ laughing, even for a second, maybe he doesn’t totally hate him.

“My point,” Simon reels the conversation back in. “Is that you should’ve said you were uncomfortable. We could’ve stopped things for a while, or forever if that’s what you want. I’m dating you because I like you, not because of your body. Though, I mean, it is an amazing body.”

“It was stupid,” Jace argues. “I overreacted.”

“Did you?” Simon says, raising an eyebrow. “You still feel that way, don’t you? Even now?”

Jace almost opens his mouth to say that he doesn’t, that everything is fine and he just wants to go back to the way things were before, but he knows it’d be a lie. And he just got done apologizing for not being honest in the first place. It’s a hit to his pride but he knows he needs to tell Simon the truth even if he isn’t happy about it.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jace admits, not meeting Simon’s gaze.

“If it bothers you then it isn’t stupid. I’m mad you didn’t tell me, but I’m not mad you’re uncomfortable. Honestly? I love your body like this. Every last inch of it, whether those inches were there before or not. Hell, it’s nice to have the playing field evened out a bit since I’ll never have your Adonis-abs,” Simon says, and though he eyes Jace’s body he doesn’t make a move to reach out for him.

“Yeah, well, that makes one of us,” Jace mutters, crossing his arms in front of him self-consciously. He hates the space between them, he wants to reach out and pull Simon close and never let him go again, certainly not for as long as he has recently, but he still can’t bring himself to do it.

Simon seems to sense that, too. “But it doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it if you aren’t. I’ll tell you what - let’s just put a hard stop on anything physical until you’re comfortable with it again. But when you are - and I mean the second you give me the okay - I get to show you exactly how beautiful I think you are. Whether you look like you did six months ago, or like you do now, or if you put on 100 more pounds, I’m always going to think you’re gorgeous, and I’m going to remind you every day so you never forget it again, starting now. Jace Wayland, you are the single most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Jace mentally curses the traitorous flush that he feels in his cheeks at the declaration, but smiles. “Thanks, Simon,” he says.

It’s tempting to say that he’s fine, to pull Simon into a kiss he knows after this long won’t stay chaste for long, but he doesn’t want to end up right back where he started and he definitely doesn’t want to risk pushing Simon away again.

“Do you think we could just take a nap? I’m exhausted, and I miss falling asleep with you.” Jace knows after everything he has no right to ask, but any concerns are gone the moment Simon nods eagerly and smiles.

Simon holds true to what he said earlier, stripping down to his boxers before getting into bed, waiting to see where Jace decides to position himself and what he wants to do. Simon doesn’t push things, and when Jace settles in behind him to wrap his arm around Simon - a deliberate choice, they both know now - Simon only shifts slightly to fit in his hold easier, not saying a word.

Feeling more relaxed than he has in weeks, Jace falls asleep almost immediately.

---

When Jace wakes up it’s to Simon running his fingers gently through a loose strand of hair that fell over his face while he slept. At some point Simon must’ve woken up and turned to face Jace, content to simply wait for him to wake up rather than leave.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” Simon says, and Jace shakes his head.

“You’re really sticking to that, aren’t you?” Jace says, a little surprised.

“Of course I am. I meant it. Until you believe it yourself I’ll just have to believe it enough for the both of us.” Simon gives a little shrug with the one shoulder he can move, and Jace is filled with such a sudden and overwhelming sense of certainty that Simon really does mean it, that he isn’t just saying it to make Jace feel better, that he doesn’t know what to do with the emotion that comes with the realization.

“I wish I could see what you see,” Jace mumbles out the passing thought, still so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize he said it out loud until Simon replies.

“Maybe I can convince you,” Simon offers.

Jace considers the offer for the second time that day. “And how, exactly, would you do that?”

Simon shifts backward so he can sit back on his heels, leaning over Jace as he lays on the bed. “If you’re uncomfortable you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

Jace nods, and Simon pauses an extra second but seems satisfied with his answer. Jace wants to see what he can manage because he misses this. He misses them, and even just spending this morning back with Simon with everything out in the open is doing wonders to ease some of the discomfort he felt before.

“Well,” Simon starts, pushing the comforter off of them entirely to move so that he’s straddling Jace, kneeling on either side of his thighs. “I’d start by saying I’ve noticed you growing your hair out, and I love the way it lifts when the wind catches it just right,” Simon brings a hand up to comb through the light, loose pieces of Jace’s hair that flop into his face when they aren’t styled back, like right now.

“Then I’d tell you how beautiful your cheeks are when they get that little tinge of blush you can’t hide when you’re embarrassed,” Simon continues, leaning over to place a kiss on each of Jace’s cheekbones. Jace can feel that very same blush form there, warm under the cool touch of Simon’s lips, and Simon smiles down at him as he pulls back again. “There it is. Beautiful.”

Simon moves his gaze to Jace’s lips, placing a kiss there, this one lingering long enough that Jace tries to lean up into it just as Simon pulls away again, but not before he catches Jace’s bottom lip in his teeth for just a second before moving down his jawline and onto his neck. Jace tilts his head back to give Simon more access, shuddering at the barely-there scrape of fangs against his throat as Simon speaks in between each kiss. “And how beautiful you are when you open up for me like this,” Simon says, peppering kisses in between. Jace barely manages to hold back a moan as Simon sucks a mark onto the skin just above his collarbone.

Simon sits back again, resting on Jace’s thighs while his hands trail down Jace’s arms.

“I’d tell you how I can’t see your arms without remembering every time you used them to pin me against a wall or lift me up onto a table with such irresistible strength,” Simon continues, his hands moving from Jace’s arms to grab the bottom of Jace’s t-shirt and pull it off over his head, giving him access to Jace’s chest. Simon rocks his hips ever so slightly with the action and Jace’s breath catches, instinctively arching his body up off the bed to chase the brief friction.

“I’d tell you that ever since you started putting on weight-” Simon’s words slow deliberately, his eyes full of lust and wanting as they trail down Jace’s body, followed by that gentle caress of his fingertips again. “-I’ve dreamt about the way it’d feel when I held on to it while I fucked you, imagined the beautiful marks I’d leave there, the soft skin bruised over and scratched-”

“Fuck, Si,” Jace barely manages to breathe out, eyes closed as he pictures it and… yeah, okay, maybe he can see what Simon sees. Simon’s words make him want it too, his thoughts lost in the knowledge that it’ll be so much better than he can even imagine, if only because it’s them, and suddenly Jace is entirely incapable of finding anything unappealing in the idea of giving himself over entirely to Simon. Everything he built up in his head, all the reservations and self-consciousness, fade to nothing but distant background noise while he’s here in Simon’s arms.

Simon, goddamn him, hovers over him, smirking.

For the first time in weeks Jace feels desire without reservation wash over him, but it isn’t desire in spite of the idea of Simon touching him - it’s because of the idea of Simon’s hands on him, revering his body just as it is now, that has every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. Jace had been so trapped in his own head and his inability to feel nothing but disgust over the changes in his body that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Simon might actually like them, or at least not hate them the way Jace did.

“Show me,” Jace says suddenly, and Simon wastes no time bringing his hands from Jace’s shoulders down his chest, teasing gentle touches along his sides.

“So beautiful,” Simon repeats, peppering kisses down his stomach, his hip bones, stopping right at the line of Jace’s boxers to look back up at him in question one last time. Jace nods, not trusting his words just then, and a minute later both his and Simon’s underwear are discarded on the floor next to the bed.

“You’re perfect, Jace,” Simon tells him, and Jace can feel the heat rise not just in his cheeks but everywhere, his entire body alight with the effect Simon’s words have on him. “And all mine. I’m so lucky to have you like this all. to. my. self.” Simon emphasizes each word with a small bite, two on the inside of each thigh.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Jace says, letting out a small gasp as Simon begins to stretch him. All thoughts, positive or negative, leave him entirely as Jace loses himself to the passion of the moment, to the feeling of being wanted, of being longed for.

True to his word, Simon never lets Jace forget exactly why he’s here and why they’re doing this. Jace is surprised when, after all their time apart recently and all the buildup, Simon takes things slowly. He never stops telling Jace how beautiful he is as he’s keeping his promise of marking every inch of skin he can, always returning to slide his hands over Jace’s stomach and sides and thighs, gripping them tight, giving them the most attention.

Jace embraces every new sensation - the way it feels to have Simon’s fingers press into areas of him that were nothing but unforgiving bone and muscle before, appreciating the way their bodies seem to blend and connect in ways they didn’t before.

Jace is aware of every time Simon glances up at his face just to double-check he’s still alright, still with him. Jace is aware that every touch, even the rough ones, are a reassurance and a comfort.

Jace is aware that this is Simon taking care of him, mind, body, and soul, from start to finish. And he knows that care doesn’t end now that they’re lying next to each other again to catch their breaths.

“That… was…” Simon starts, but Jace cuts him off.

“Beautiful?” Jace suggests, with the slightest teasing tone to his words. “I know.”

“Do you?” Simon asks, not teasing at all, and Jace’s taunting smirk fades to something softer.

Jace spent his entire life being who he thought others expected him to be, living up to the expectations set by those around him. There was always a push to do better, to be better, that he’s never felt satisfied with where he is at any given time. There’s always something to change, something to improve. But here, now, with Simon, he feels like for the first time he’s able to be okay with who he is and the way things are right now. That he’s fine, just like this.

“Yeah,” he says, probably about as surprised as Simon to find that he isn’t just saying it to deflect now - he actually means it this time. “Yeah, I do.”

[lynnsfics]

Trick-or-Treat with a Twist

Pairing: Cas x Reader (Gender-neutral pronouns Prompt List #19 “You want to go trick-or-treating? Seriously?”)

Word Count: Approx. 2k

Requests Open! See prompt list (linked above) for details!

~~~

As the day dragged on, you felt yourself growing a bit stir-crazy in the bunker. It was Halloween and noting remotely spooky was even happening. No ghosts or ghouls to be seen. Dean had left to go to a bar, dragging a reluctant Sam behind him. Apparently Halloween was a good night to go pick up a one-night “date”.

You rolled your eyes and sighed in frustration, flipping through the tv channels, nothing even remotely good on. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. “Hey Cas,” you called out, “I had an idea.”

He walked into the room, a confused look on his face. “An idea about what?”

“I’m just about bored out of my mind. There’s nothing to do here and it’s Halloween.”

“What does that have to do with you being bored,” he questioned.

You broke into a smile, “It’s literally the best holiday all year! And so I was thinking,” you paused, embarrassed for a second, but then pressed on, “we should go trick-or-treating.”

He stared at you in confusion for a second before responding, “You want to go trick-or-treating? Seriously?”

Your smile faltered momentarily before you continued, “I mean, if you want to. But it’s so much fun, and you’ve never done it before, so it’d be something new for you to try.”

For a moment he considered it before sighing, “Well,” he said, “I suppose this could be fun.”

A grin spread across your face, “Great! Now to find you a costume.”

The sidewalk was barely lit by flickering street lights overhead, and there was a crisp chill in the air, but you didn’t complain. If anything it just added to the ambiance of the evening. Besides, the moonlight provided more than enough light to see by.

Next to you Cas glanced around, looking a bit uneasy. You had to admit, maybe making him wear a fake halo and wings for his costume was a bit excessive. But you were dressed as a demon, so it just made sense.

“Aren’t people going to question why we’re grown adults collecting candy?”

“If they do, they’re a jerk. But just say you’re collecting candy for a younger sibling who’s sick and can’t go out.”

“Isn’t that a bit-”

You cut him off, “Unethical? Yes. But we also saved the world so in the end it all balances out. Probably.”

As the angel next to you chuckled in response, you couldn’t help to admire the way the moonlight reflected in his piercing blue eyes. No matter how many times you tried to ignore the way you felt about him, it was impossible. A stab of pain went through you as you realized he wouldn’t feel the same way about you. These feelings needed to be gone, otherwise things could go downhill fast.

You were dragged back to the present when you came to the first lit house. A fake skeleton was hanging from the door, and a few bales of hay were set up in the yard. There was a “Please Take One” bowl on the porch and as you approached it, Cas gave you a stern look.

“I know what you’re thinking. Do not take the whole bowl.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted, but still only grabbed a KitKat before moving on. You grimaced at Cas’ choice in chocolate. “You seriously had your choice of like five different types of chocolate, and you chose a Baby Ruth? Really?”

“It all tastes like molecules to me,” he countered, “but they have a good texture.”

Well, that did make sense, but it didn’t stop you from judging him on it just a little bit. It was at that moment when you felt the familiar sensation of something watching you. You grabbed Cas’ arm and pulled him back towards the sidewalk.

“I think I’ve got some gum stuck to my shoe,” you whispered the code in a low voice, hoping he would pick up on what you meant.

Apparently he did, as he replied, “Would you like to go back to the car to get it off?”

“No, I don’t think it will help my shoes to walk that far.”

He nodded in response before veering off towards a sidestreet. Once you both felt a bit more secluded you asked, “Do you have any weapons with you? Maybe your angel blade?”

“You didn’t bring yourself a weapon,” he questioned accusingly.

Rolling your eyes you responded, “All I have is my dagger, sorry I didn’t expect to be fighting any entities tonight.”

He sighed and handed you the long silver blade he had stashed under the folds of his trenchcoat. “Any idea what’s following us?”

“No, I just got the feeling, and wanted to be sure we were ready. But I know that there’s definitely something out there.”

“What do you think our plan should be? We can’t just stand here and wait for whatever it is to attack.”

“I think the best thing we can do is go back and pretend we don’t know we’re being watched. Before you say anything, I don’t like the idea much either but I don’t see any other way.”

Once again walking down the street, you now cursed the flickering street lights. The once spooky atmosphere was now just a low-visibility potential battleground. The moonlight was now dimmed as impending storm clouds started to fill the sky. You could feel your hunter instincts starting to take over, and you began to flich at every sound. Something told you to try and act more nonchalant but it was difficult. You were usually prepared for fights, and this wasn’t exactly something you had predicted.

On the upside, however, you felt your bag getting heavier at each stop. You’d need to hide all this chocolate from Dean when you got home. If you got home.

For the first time in the evening, Cas seemed to actually be enjoying the Halloween festivities. “I know the circumstances aren’t ideal,” he said, “but I can understand why humans find this so appealing.”

You replied with a smile, feeling a bit more at ease knowing Cas wasn’t worried, “I always loved the idea of Halloween growing up. I wasn’t allowed to celebrate it when I was younger because it was “devil worship”, but as soon as I was on my own I embraced every part of the holiday.”

“I’m glad you were-”

You shushed him as a prickle suddenly went down your spine. “I feel it again. Whatever it is, it’s close.”

He nodded silently as you approached the next lit house. After a quick knock, an elderly woman answered the door, a bowl of chocolates in hand. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?”

“Well, you see ma’am,” you answered, “my little sister is sick with a cold, so we’re collecting candy for her.”

“If there’s one thing I hate more than hunters,” she hissed, her voice taking on an inhuman quality, “it’s liars.” You felt something cool and sharp press against your back, and your heart clenched. Pulling out the blade Cas had handed you earlier, you launched it back in one swift motion. The monster behind you doubled over and collapsed into dust.

A flash of blinding light told you that Cas had managed to smite the other monster, leaving only the “sweet old lady” standing in front of you. Her skin began to peel back, revealing a young woman who seemed to be in her mid-20s. “Well, it seems you killed my brothers. Pity. But I think you’ll find I won’t be quite as easy to dispose of.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted through clenched teeth. Swinging the bloody angel blade forward, it lodged itself in her stomach but did nothing.

She smirked, but as she did, her face shifted again, “Well then, judge, have you reached your verdict?” At that moment everything clicked. Why you couldn’t find the others even though you could sense them, why the first two died so easily. She was a silent shifter, a newly found sub-grouping of shape shifter than stayed in packs, but had a connected life force. When one died, the others gained their strength.

A quick glance at Castiel told you that he had come to the same conclusion. It would take more than a stab wound to take her down, but luckily there was something that could do the trick.

You made a move to grab for the hilt of the blade but she reacted quickly, latching a strong hand around your wrist. A burning sensation flooded through your arm, but you managed to pull out the angel blade. As you did, the burning spread, and you cried out in pain. You didn’t let that stop you, however, and in one fluid motion, brought the blade to her neck and pushed it through. As the head fell to the ground with a sickening plop, the burning pain overtook you and you collapsed onto the porch in a heap.

Castiel rushed to your side, gently propping you up against the now closed front door. Your brain felt foggy, and you couldn’t quite see straight. On the plus side, you decided, the burning had receded.

“Please be alright,” he silently pleaded, hands trembling. Momentarily, you squeezed your eyes shut, and when you reopened them the world was back in focus. Cas breathed a sigh of relief as you cussed under your breath,

The question slipped from your lips before you could even process it, “What just happened?”

“I,” he paused, unsure of whether to be straightforward in his response or to sugar-coat it, “I honestly do not know. But you seem to be doing better now, so I suggest we head back to the bunker.”

Something about his demeanor was off as you walked back, and you tried to ignore it, but eventually the stiff silence caused your feelings to spill over the edge. “What the hell is going on with you, Cas? First you seem overly concerned and the next minute you don’t seem to care what happens to me.” Thunder boomed from overhead as the last words tumbled out, the perfect accompaniment to your sudden outburst.

“You could have died back there, do you realize that? All because we weren’t prepared. Because I agreed to go on this little ‘adventure’ with you. I could have lost you-” He stopped speaking abruptly as a look flashed across his face, an emotion that was gone as soon as it came. But you recognized it well. Regret.

Droplets of water began to sprinkle down from the heavens as you replied. “Cas, what,” you paused, trying to interpret his message in a million different ways, but always drawing the same conclusion. “What are you trying to say?”

He glanced down, unsure of how to express how he truly felt. “I thought I lost you today, and that terrified me. It made me realize what I’ve felt all this time, and I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I love you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I just needed to tell you.”

You blinked, unsure if this was real or all just a dream. Stepping towards him, the words came naturally, “All this time, I thought my feelings were one-sided. Cas, I love you too.” And in that moment he closed the remaining distance between you, and your lips met. Fireworks exploded in your mind as the rain cascaded down around you. You smiled into the kiss, and you knew that this year, Halloween may have brought you some tricks, but it also brought you a very sweet treat.

~~~

Hey everyone! This fic was requested anonymously, and is actually the first spn fic I’ve ever written, so sorry if it’s a bit OOC. If you’d like to request a fic, make sure to click the link in the description for more details! As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! Love you all <3

[eerythingisshaka]

Going Up?

[Trevante Rhodes x Black!PlusSize Reader]

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings:  Smut of some kind

A/N:  I FINALLY have a bday fic present for @nickidub718!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 Happy Birthday to you, I hope you had a good one and see a many more!  You’ve been a great internet fam member to me, supportive, engaging and I couldn’t rest until this fic was finished (sis, this was a challenge lol I ain’t written smut in so long).  This is my first Trevante fic, so hopefully it suffices!

The elevator dings after what felt like an eternity of waiting after you pressed the call button.  You stand by the gold gilded doors, patiently standing by until finally opened.  You do an internal fist pump at the sight of an empty car, strolling in quickly and punching your floor number and the close door button to make a clean getaway.

“Wait, hold up!”  A deep voice calls.  A hand comes between the closing doors, followed by a strong arm pushing them back forcefully.  You jump at the action breaking your peace, watching as a man exhales in relief, walking on to the elevator with a smile that would make a turkey on Thanksgiving feel at ease about their life.  

“Hey, sorry about that.  I’d hate to wait for a new one.”  The man stands across the way from you as you look ahead, giving a tight smile.  As much as you were looking forward to a ride up alone, you see out of your peripheral his wide shoulders under his dark colored jacket, beautiful dark skin tone, 6 ft at least with a voice that can make a maniac sane.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you live here?”  He asks bluntly.  You look at him in confusion.

“Um...yeah, it’s a hotel.”  You say.

He scratches the back of his head.  “Yeah I know, I just wondered were you visiting or staying.”

You watch the numbers light up as the elevator travels.

“What’s your name?”  He asks.

You scoff.  “ I honestly think you're doing a lot right now asking all these questions.”

He shakes his head.  “No...no I’m not.  It’s just….a beautiful woman like you, going home alone….must have a name.”

His smile does you in this time, making you smile back but you look away.  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t if it weren’t for me getting stood up.  I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but work comes first….it always does.”

He clicks his thick tongue at you.  “That ain’t right.  If you were mine, I would leave work early just to see you.”  His voice drags the sentence out deep and slow.

“Yeah?”

He makes a face of disbelief.  “Hell yeah!  Dinner ready, table set, bath ran, the works!”

You shuffle anxiously, feeling yourself get warm from all of this complimentary conversation from a stranger.  “Well,  I appreciate that.  I’m sure a guy like you has his pick of the litter when it comes to women.”

He cocks his head to the side, closing the space between you ever so carefully.  “I don’t pick them, they pick me.  And I’m hoping you do tonight.”

You look up at him, studying his eyes as he becomes just inches away from your face, his soft cucumber scented cologne wafting.  You can tell in his face he was a cutie as a kid and for some reason that makes you feel safe next to him.  You can tell he is a problem, but in this moment, you really don’t care.  As long as he wasn't starting an issue with you, why not walk on the wild side for once.

“What’s your name?  You ask.

“I asked first.”  He retorts.  You give your name, and he gives his: Trevante.

“What floor are you on?” You ask.

He shrugs, eyes beginning to wander your body.  “Whatever floor you’re on.”

You decided in that moment to take a chance on him.  Your night was not going to be ruined by some asshole who wanted to neglect you on your night of much needed romance.  If another man as fine as this one comes along to volunteer to give you what you needed, who were you to look a gift horse in the dick.  

The elevator finally makes it to your floor and you both step off to walk down the hall.  Your room isn’t far as you take your keycard out to open the door.  It appears your man had intentions on making an effort, but abandoned it halfway through.  The plush carpet now has the pattern of scattered rose petals leading to the comforter of your bed.  You stare in awe of the candles on you bedside dresser and table waiting to be lit, 90s R&B playlist musing your soul as you clutch your pearls.

Trevante looks around making a low whistle with his lips.  “You really know how to wine and dine a nigga.”

You scoff at him.  “This isn’t me, this is FOR me.”  A card rests on a pillow with your name on it, handwritten by someone else obviously because your man had no good writing capabilities.  

“Read it out loud for me.”  Tre asks, coming up behind you.

You roll your eyes,, tearing open the envelope to read the note.

“‘In this place you’ll find great jewels, but these rubies were once a fools.’  Oh my God, this dude was sending me on a scavenger hunt.

Trevante looks at the note front and back.  “Huh.  Seems kinda lame but it might be fun.”   He hops on the bed, causing the rose petals to jump, stretching out like an alley cat.  “Let’s see what he got for you.”

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels and taking off your jacket.  “Fine!  It better get tougher because this one is real elementary.”  You say as you walk over to your beveled glass jewelry box, lifting the handle to find a box of large, juicy strawberries from the farmer’s market.

“Oooh, these look delicious!  Mm, can’t wait to wrap my mouth around these…”  You moan in delight as you pick one up to enjoy.

“Aye!  Let’s make a bet?”  Trevante says as he flicks a lighter on, kneeling on the bed as he works on the bedside candles.  “Find these clues he giving you before I finish lighting these candles, and you can set the rhythm for what we do tonight.  But if I win, I do.”

You look back at Trevante, who has taken off his jacket and shoes, getting real comfortable, but agree because what else was there to do?  You pick the strawberries out the box to find a familiar looking card along the bottom of the box.  Opening it up, you read the next riddle.

“‘The city lights look so bright, good enough for an evening delight’....Ok, question.”

“Answer.”  Trevante retorts, lighting the last candle on the table and walking over to the ones on your dresser.

“You think all the riddles related to things in this room?  Cuz I’m not trying to look like a fool looking for shit on the street.”

Trevante guffaws, throwing his head back as he sets a candle down gracefully.  “It wouldn’t make sense to set all this shit up here and make you leave.  Use your head, you on the clock.”

You nod, looking at the note again.  “Ok, then I’ll check this window and see…”  Your windows were closed with heavy bamboo blinds, rolling one up you find a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream.

Picking them up, you turn to him, making a confused face but laughing all the same.  “I hope you not lactose, because I will definitely make a split outta you in a minute.”

Trevante had two candles left on the dresser.  “You soundin a little nervous over there, tryna tell jokes and shit.  You got one more clue before I win my night with you.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you tauntingly.  

You roll your eyes, peeling a card off the back of the syrup bottle.  “It’s fine, I’m not a sore loser.”

“Yeah, you bout to be though.”  He mutters.

“‘Treats aren’t sweet until they are in the right wrapper.  Open this door to find yours.’  Ok, I don’t think they’re making this big of a deal for a condom, so let’s see...Should I go ahead and check my closet?”

Trevante is holding the last candle in his hand, unlit and tossing it up in the air like a softball repeatedly.  “Couldn’t hurt to check.”

You put the cream and syrup down, making a beeline for your closet, pulling back the doors to find a black box with a red ribbon wrapped around it.  Your mouth fell open as your fingers traced the embedded Savage x Fenty label on the top.  

“You got two minutes to put that on before I order you forfeit.”  Trevante’s voice carries across the room as a warning.

“This isn’t a very fair game, I gotta say.”  You whine, picking up the box to head to the bathroom.

“Where you goin?”  Trevante questions your path with a quickness.

You freeze in place.  “I’m goin to change…”

Trevante shakes his head slow.  “Uh uh, I want you to change out here.  Make sure things are fitting right.”  He sits on the edge of the bed, wide legged to study your every move.

You balk at him.  “I don’t know you and you’re just being really extra right now, but I fucks with it so lemme shut up.”

You see Trevante’s white teeth like the Cheshire cat in the shadows as you untie the knot and open the box.  You’ve been eyeing some new shit from Rihanna’s line for a minute but didn’t have the courage to bite the bullet for fear of disappointing quality or sizing problems.  Past the wrapping paper, you find a royal purple bra and panty matching set.  Both have a satin applique embroidery across the material that made the sexy set so cute.

“Aww, look!  This is one of the ones I wanted to try!”  You exclaim, tossing the items on the bed to proceed to snatch your shirt and skirt off without shame.

You hear the flick of his lighter as he ignites the last candle.  “Yeah, you got good taste.  That color gonna look bomb on you too.”

You turn away from him as you take off your tired bra to replace it with the new Fenty certified one.  You felt your girls lift with pride as you clasp the hooks behind you and adjust the straps.  A little recalibrating of your titties and BAM!  You were ready to work work work!  Next you drop your draws kick them off to the side and pull up the matching new pair.  These also have an adorable peekaboo lace up right above your booty that you quickly admire as you run to the mirror to turn and look at.  

The panties have little charms on either side, no bigger than your pinky nail:  a dice block, heart, x and o’s, and a cherry.  You couldn’t help drinking in your reflection in the mirror, sliding your hands across the material holding up your breasts, running your fingers down your cleavage over your belly to the top of your waistband.  The material leaves little to the imagination due to it being sheer as well as tightly fitted around your waist and thighs.

You barely notice Trevante walking up behind you in the reflection, feeling yourself get shy again as he breaks your trance in your own world.

“How you like em?”  He asks, licking his lips as he stands just inches behind you, lightly twirling a charm between his fingers against your hip.

You nod biting your lips.  “It’s perfect, so damn sexy and cute, just my speed.”

Trevante breathes in deeply as he wraps his arms around you, putting a steady squeeze on your frame as he chin rests against your shoulder.  “I don’t think we hit your speed yet.”

“No?”  You ask quietly, resting your hands on top of his.

He shakes his head, spreading his hands wide across your stomach, appreciating the softness of your lingerie and body under his grasp, squeezing your hips roughly, you feel his presence against you even more.

“I like this on you, for sure.  But I think you could use a few extra...toppings to set you off.”  He looks at you in the reflection mischievously.

Your eyes squint as the gears start to turn in your head.  “And that means…”

Trevante pecks your cheek lightly as he points to the table with your scavenger items lined up:  whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate syrup.

You laugh out loud, bumping your butt against him to push him off you.  “I’m not trying to be a sundae for you,  I just wanna fuck.”

Trevante’s mouth hangs open in a wide as he struts slowly across the floor to pick up the items.  “You see the room right?  Lit up, aromatic, turned down just so that we can turn up, yeah?”

You nod in agreeance.

“But, the bet at the beginning was that if I beat you at putting on the final touches, i.e. the candle lighting, then I get to use this on you as I so choose.  You remember that?”

His tone is cocky, conniving, yet so charismatic as he convinces you of the deal you agreed to.

You cross your arms defensively.  “I ain’t into food fights man, this just seems extra complicated and boring to me.”

Trevante shakes his head, smiling all the same.  “You don’t know me well enough.  I’ll make it interesting, I promise.  Just sit back on the bed there.”

You scoff at him walking in the direction hesitantly.  “If you get one drop of that chocolate on these good sheets, I swear.”

“You better be glad you look good walking away, or I wouldn’t make this as fun for you no more.”  Trevante says,  putting the goods on his side of the bed, untucking his shirt, opening each button one by one.

“I don’t want fun, I want the business.”  You mutter, laying back with a plop on the pillows.

Trevante shrugs his shoulders as he reaches to untie his tie.  “Put your hands up.”

You look at the tie in his hands and back at his face, shaking your head.  Trevante tuts at you, gripping your forearms firmly as he swings his leg over you to straddle.  He brings lowers himself over you, eyes moving slowly over your face, studying you.  

“You said you wouldn’t be a sore loser.  Now you know I won’t hurt you, so quit acting silly and relax for once.”

You mull over his words.  “You know you haven’t kissed me since I got here.”

Tre’s lips curl back at your words before landing softly on top of yours.  This is just enough to get you started as you parted your lips quickly to let your tongue loose across his lips.  You wanted him badly in between you but his straddling you made that impossible.  You allowed him to move your arms back as your tongues teased one another, he moans into your mouth while sucking down hard on your bottom lip, intoxicating your senses before you realized his hands worked the scarf around your wrists and the headboard.  

His hands run down the soft parts of your arm, reaching just above your armpit you begin to squirm.

“Tre!  Stop!  You not supposed to be tickling me, DAMN!”  You giggle between protests.  

Trevante laughs triumphantly as he reaches for the hem of his tank top to stretch it over his body, tossing it across the room safely away from the flames.  Your breath catches in your chest as you view his body.  He was not playing fair keeping you strapped down from feeling his beady curls decorating his proud chest, and not allowing your palms to caress the defined mountains and canyons that made up his abdominals.  If chocolate cake turned into a man with the snap of your fingers, Trevante would appear.  He looked just as succulent, rich, and left you licking your fingers wanting more.

“Ok, what now?”  You ask breathlessly.  Trevante gets up to walk casually to the end of the bed, grabbing the whipped cream.

“Open your them legs for me.”  He commands you, shaking the can as he growth in his pants.  You do so eagerly, feeling slight relief in letting your pussy breathe from the building pressure on her.  He walks on his knees toward you, laying prone between your thighs, aiming the can at your inner right thigh.  The air pressure sound of the can makes you jump a little as the white cream fluffs across the darker skin if your inner thigh, contrasting well for Trevante’s view.

He sets the can down, unfurling his wide tongue, spreading it across you skin to lap up the sweet indulgence between your legs.  Your leg jumps at the sensation making your core throb as you bite your lip at the sight, you laugh nervously.

“Do it taste good to you?”  You ask meekly.

Trevante nods.  “Of course you sweet to me.  You wanna try it?”  

You nod, opening your mouth as he grabs the can.  He tips the can to his mouth, filling it with cream before meandering his way up your body.  You try to hold back your laughter as you toys with your mouth, nudging it with his nose and lips to feed you the cream.  

“You are ridiculous!”  You exclaim but eventually opening your to his, he uses his tongue to give you a taste, letting you suck the sweetness from his mouth.  The action becomes more natural as his hips instinctually rock against your heat, stiffening against you.  You get excited from his quiet ‘shit’ you hear him say as he breaks away from your mouth.

He shakes his head to clear his mind, blinking a few times as he straightens up to grab the syrup.  “Ok, punishment almost done.”

You stick your bottom lip out.  “Darn!”

His muscles flex as he breaks the seal of the bottle, popping the top.  “Where should I put this?”

“Do I get a say in that?”  You ask.

He smirks shaking his head.  “It was rhetorical.”  His wide hand lays flat against your throat, not applying pressure but caressing the sensitivity of your windpipe and what could be.  His chest rises and falls while his eyelids grow heavy.  His hand travels down your neck to massage your titty, thumbing across the peak of one of your nipples, your back caves toward him begging for his touch to deepen.  

He tips the bottle bottle over your midsection, making a circle around your belly button.  He bends down to bring his tongue across you, enjoying dessert on your belly.  His tongue linger over one area of your stomach.

“I like this scar here.”  He says softly, tracing the bolt of stretch marks across your belly like a treasure map.  

You grow anxious from this intimacy.  Noticing details about your body, worshiping the ‘imperfections’ made you feel more beautiful than he could ever understand.  

“I earned them.  This thickness doesn’t come cheap.”  You quip.

Trevante looks up at you with a look of desire you barely had time to decipher.  

“I’m glad you’re giving me a chance to enjoy it.  It’s so damn sexy.”  His tone drops an octave causing you to writhe under him.

“How sexy am I to you?”

His eyes lock on your as his fingers reach the tops of your cups, to free your breasts from their binds.  He brings them together gently, kissing around your areola slowly.  Each audible peck, seeing the softness of this hard boy over you made your senses go into overdrive, threatening your shoulder sockets as you begin to buck your ties when his mouth locks onto your nipples.  

You gasp, melting yourself into his mouth as much as possible as you encourage him through gritted teeth.  Your legs rub along his sides, hooking him closer to your core as you hope for more of him to come soon.  

Trevante pulls himself from your chest to crawl downward, firmly but carefully pulling down your charmed underwear.

“Tre, wait!”  

Trevante wasn’t looking for that reaction as he peered at you in confusion.

“I mean, just untie me.  I can’t take anymore of this without some control of my body, and I know that mouth will make me dislocate my arms.”

Trevante shakes his head as he crawls over you to turn you loose.  “Aight, but don’t be wildin on me.”

Soon as you felt the loosening of your wrists, you tore yourself away pushing Tre on his back.

“Whoa, the fuck?  I thought I -”

“That’s not what I wanna hear.  Get to work!”  You adjust yourself across his face, splaying your pussy above his mouth.  “You wanna eat so damn bad, eat something good for you.”

You pat his head between your legs as he looks up at you playfully while you unhook your bra to free your titties completely.  His hands wrap around your thighs before dipping into your treasure, spreading your lips with his tongue, painting his name inside of you.  

Your jaw drops at first lick, contracting your stomach as he teases your clit with a smart occasion flick that makes you putty in his hands.  Your dare to sit yourself down further on his face, which Tre moans gleefully over.  The sucking, tasting sounds of his mouth against you make you shiver as you connect it to your orgasm building.  

“Stay right there, that’s….the rhythm I….OH!”  You grip his skull like a bowling ball as you become unhinged.  Tre smacks your ass, shaking it to and fro while you ride your orgasm out arching backward on a high.  You work your hips into his mouth while reaching backward. Finding the top of his trousers.  

Expertly, you undo his top button, sliding his fly down carefully as his erection threatens the room left in his pants.  You look over your shoulder seeing his dick resting against his stomach, thick and heavy, and jerking every so often.  Taking the tip in your hands, you massage his already moistened head, stretching the wetness along his shaft.

Tre smacks your ass again.  “You gonna kill me with this pussy of yours.” He says with a southern drawl.

You laugh breathlessly as you feel him grow under your grip.  “And imma bring that ass back to life just so I can ride this dick again.”

You smile to yourself proudly jacking him off while he eats you out, a happy prequel to your love making.  

But Tre isn't one to keep you comfortable in one spot too long.  Before you knew, his grip on your backside grows stronger.  You feel his thighs tightening and soon you're up in the air.  Tre went from completely flat to lifting you in the air with nothing to hold onto but his head.  Your hands and thighs grip around him with a death grip.

“Tre! Don't you EVER do that without telling me first!”  you scold him, thank God and cursing him.

Trevante’s hands find the center of your back and leans forward.  Your thigh grip lessens but you keep a firm grip on his head as your legs roll down his shoulders.

You look up at him petrified in this circus act while he just grins at you all goofy.  “If I told you, you wouldn't wanna do it.”

Your heart rate begins to calm down some.  “Yeah you right!”

Tre shrugs.  “I can't help but want my baby sitting high on her throne.  That pussy motivates me to do some crazy shit, and that look on your face was worth it.”

“That so? Or you just tryna make sure you don’t cum too fast on me?” You rebuttal.

He looks up a moment in thought.  “nah, i don't think that's ever happened.  That was a cute trick though.”

“You're not the only one with em.”  You say, stroking his beard shining with your juices embedded in his curls.  You couldn't help but want a taste as you kissed him, hungrier than before with the whipped cream.  You couldn't take much more foreplay and Tre read that too as you feel one hand playing with his dick between you, slapping it across your pussy lips.  He exhaled sharply through his teeth as you massage his scalp, scooting to line yourself up with his dick more; a feat more difficult given your legs on his shoulders.  But once he found his way inside, your extremities unanimously degraded under his girth.  Your back bent outta shape as your neck gave way to moan.  He hadn't even made his way completely inside and you were already a mess.

“Shhh, don't start acting up.  I ain't even started with you yet.”  Tre says, kissing your chin softly.

“Just go slow, gatdamn.”  You wince.

“Don't worry, I plan to savor every surface of these walls.” He groans as you feel him stretch you out more and more.  The first stroke took forever to complete before he was deep inside you, your muscles contracting around his dick without control to become used to him, now you needed him to move.  Knees in your chest, dick in your gut, you could barely breathe.

“You want me to hit that pussy fast or slow?”  He asks, gripping your hips to move you on him slowly.

You feel flush and anxious.  “Just hit it daddy, please.  I need it.”

He nods laying his forehead against yours.  “Whatever you want.”  Sounded more like a warning as he splayed your legs wider to wrap around his body.  You rub his neck gingerly as he pulled in and out of you slow at first, your pussy makes soft, wet noises, pleasantly accepting his dick within you.  

Soon his pace begins to quicken, spreading his lap under you for stability as his hips rise against you.  His strokes create a recoil in your body, bouncing against him erratically.  You hold tight to his shoulders for dear life feeling yourself on the edge.

Trevante’s face fights for a stoic appearance but you make it hard for him.  “Who you been hiding this pussy from?”

You run your hands along his chest; soft skin over a hardened interior, your own personal human stress ball to squeeze.  

“I haven’t...hid from nobody…”  You say broken up by your passions.  

Trevante’s  pulls you into him, holding you tightly as he suckles on your neck and chest, using his full arm strength to bounce you on top of him vigorously.  The sudden change in position shocked the hell out of your clit, now getting direct stimulation with his rhythm.  

“Mm, that ass sounds nice bouncing on me.  Make it sing baby.”  Tre encourages you as you attempt to keep up before your climax makes you almost tap out.  But Tre wasn’t a quitter, making sure you whimpered his name like it was your final wish.

Tre groans loudly, taking your hair in his hands to pull your mouth on his once more, his tongue dances inside your mouth so strong you knew it wasn’t over yet.

A smack on your left booty cheek brings you back down to earth again.  “Get on your hands and knees, I wanna see that ass bounce on me in real time.”

Before your could protest for a break, he picks you up with one arm wrapped around your waist before turning and tossing you on the bed.  

“Oh shit!  Damn you too strong!  You hulking out on me when I’m vulnerable.”  You whine as he twists your leg to turn you over.

“There you go talking again.  The game is over, and I ain’t come here to play with you.”  He lays on top of you starting at the nape of your neck, sliding kisses down your back.  Your muscles twitch with each massage of his mouth over your back, not missing a nook or cranny around before reaching your backside.  Tre creates an arch in your back, pulling your hips back and knees forward for the perfect position.

Tre chuckles as he rubs on your cheeks.  “I think we got this pussy going rabid now.”

“The fuck does that mean?”  You ask, face down in your comforter.

“Pussy lookin like it’s foaming at the mouth, it’s so creamed up.  Ain’t no dick like new dick for you, huh?”  Tre emphasizes his point with a simple stroke of his tip against your pussy lips

You nod, looking back at him sheepishly.  “Mhm, it’s my favorite.  You’ve been a big surprise.”

“We gotta make this happen more often…”  Tre pushes himself inside you again, renewing your arousal.  Gripping the sheets you steady yourself for him to pound away, but instead are met with a slow, almost lazy stroke.  

You whine.  “What’re you doing, give me something.”

Tre  just stands behind you rubbing your back.  “I said I wanna see that ass dance, make it dance.”  

You smirk as you catch his drift, pushing back into him until you feel your limit being reached, sliding down his shaft again.  You make a slight wind of your hips as you maintain a rhythm, bumping your cheeks against this pelvis.

“God, you feel so good.”  You moan as your head drops.

“Uh uh, come on, that shit looks too good, pick your head up and throw it back.”  Tre demands, sliding his hand up your back to pull your head back.  You seethe from the new pressure but fall in line with his encouragement.  Retaining your posture you bounce against him thoughtfully, squeezing around him periodically for good measure.  Tre leans over you keeping ahold of your hair as the applause of your bodies in motion raises in volume.

“That’s it, put all that shit on me.”  Tre  says, biting down as your pussy yanks his dick over and over again.

“Yes, daddy, mm hurt me please.”

“You say hurt you?”

You nod, grabbing your breasts to stabilize their bounce as he pounds against your ass, slapping you over and over.  You knees begin to give out, falling down on the bed as Tre follows behind you.

“I don’t know what you running from.  You want this ass whipped, Imma give you that.”  He says, throttling your pussy as you lay on your stomach, fingers clawing into your linens, toes gnarled in arousal as you scream into the mattress.

“What was that?”  Tre asks, pausing his assault as he lifts on leg to twist you around on your back while still inside you.  Putting one leg on your shoulder.  He leans over you with hands on either side of your body thrusting harder within you.  Your hand presses against his stomach,trying your best to remain in control.

“What were you saying when I had that ass in the air?”  Tre asks.

You stifle your moans, gritting your teeth.  “It.. wasn’t...nothing…”

“You look like you got a lot to say, so say it.”  Tre breathes hard over you, grabbing your titties as his strokes doesn’t relent.

“It’s...too….good…”  You squeak.

“What is?”  His hands find your throat.

“That...dick...ohhhh, it’s too good!”

“You ain’t telling me shit I don’t know.  This pussy takin it well.”  He squeezes his hands around you.

You sigh loudly feeling your arousal climb as your breathing shallows.  “You make it feel good daddy!”

“You gonna save this pussy for me later?”  Tre asks.

“I’ll save it for you again and again and-AH!”  You smack his chest in frustrated bliss as he makes you cum hard, strangling his shaft between you, your leg threatens to cramp up as he bears down on you, keeping you hollering at the top of your lungs as your hands fall, surrendering to his body.  

“I want stay in this.” Tre groans.

“Cum in me baby, please cum.”  You beg, holding his face carefully,  He turns his head to kiss your palm, digging you out dramatically as his pressure climbs.  Soon his body falls on top of you, filling you up.

“Ah, fuck. Oh shit, girl.  Damn….”  You both remain still a minute, heartbeat to heartbeat still excitedly beat as your bodies catch up to the current intermission.  

Tre rolls off of you and on his back, watching the ceiling.  You carefully roll over in his area, kissing his chest, twirling and rubbing the hairy, soft, firmness that is his magnificent body; feeling the rise and fall of his tightening stomach.  

“How long you want me around for?”  Trevante asks, running his fingers along your face.

You rest your chin on his chest, thinking.  “I would feel bad if I didn’t get you some room service by the time morning comes.”

“What about ole dude?  He not coming back tonight?”

“Honey, he’s not coming nowhere near me after this.  My pussy got a whole new muscle memory that he is no longer eligible for.”

Masterlist

[joesbbqandfootmassage]

We need to talk about Jane and Carlos…

So if someone had to ask me what one of the most underrated things in the world was, I would definitely say dcoms. (Disney Channel Original Movies)

They’re cheesy and dumb and not a single one lacks their flaws.

But they are still just so fun to watch and you just get a whole new experience from watching dcoms than you do any other movie.

Now among all those dcoms is a sub genre of musicals, being made popular by the one and only High School Musical trilogy. But we also have the Cheetah Girls, Teen Beach Movie, ZOMBIES, and the Descendants.

Now while all of those movie series are amazing in their own right, I’m gonna zero in on Descendants.

Kenny Ortega’s big return to Disney Channel and oh my gosh was it hyped up.

You couldn’t go two minutes watching Suite Life on Deck reruns without having this shoved in your face.

And you’d be dang right if you thought I was excited to see it. The children of iconic Disney characters all in one shared universe? Sign me the heck up!

Of course we got rid of cable before it came out and it would be maybe two years later until i finally considered watching it with my sister.

Needless to say our reaction could be boiled down to, “Oh. Oh no.”

Love it or hate it, as a movie lover I can say that D1 is a fundamentally broken movie on every level.

Nothing is developed enough and it relies way too heavily on you loving Mal as a character. Spoiler alert, I don’t.

But regardless of that, D1 also introduced me to a guy named Carlos De Vil.

Now i will never be able to comprehend WHY on Earth, puppy-skinning, vampire bat, inhumane beast, Cruella De Vil would EVER do the do with anyone and then still keep the baby after not killing it during pregnancy.

But she did and there he was.

Canonically physically and mentally abused by his mother to such a degree that he wakes up at night screaming.

Something Disney had never really had the guts to do before.

And immediately he charmed the heck out of me because regardless of how awful he had it on the Isle, it didn’t take a genius to see that he was a genuinely a good person at heart.

He was so clearly different and that was shown through maybe a culmination of like five minutes of screen time and Cameron’s incredible acting abilities.

And he deserved so much more in those movies than what was given to him but I won’t complain.

Because we still need to talk about another sweetheart.

Jane gets even less development than Carlos which is to be expected since she isn’t a main character, but you can still figure out and understand her if you read between the lines.

In D1 you not only get the fact that she likes to hide in her own little bubble, but she’s also incredibly insecure. So much so that Mal is quickly able to see it and take advantage of it.

Spending her whole life having to repeat that it’s not the outside that matters, it’s the inside, even though she doesn’t completely believe.

And then someone comes forward and basically validates her in her belief that she isn’t pretty, but she could be if she stopped focusing on the inside.

That’s what leads to her downward spiral throughout the movie as she lets her newfound “beauty” (seriously bobbed hair is cute and Disney needs to calm down) go to her head and she turns on Mal and the rest of the VKs.

Now while I find Mal to be completely irrational, her reversing Jane’s spell makes sense.

It’s Jane’s actions that follow.

Her, so desperate to be beautiful (literally she is so gorgeous how?) deciding to steal her mother’s wand isn’t paced very well and doesn’t make a lot of sense in the plot. But they just wanted to avoid Mal being the cause of the barrier being brought down so her redemption would be easier.

A classic Kylo Ren of avoiding direct contact and having it all be indirect so they can easily be forgiven later.

Now by all means after her actions that day, I’m surprised Jane herself isn’t sent to jail.

But I guess in D3 they show that they have an AK bias so whatever.

Now the important thing about this is that Carlos is there for all of Jane’s worst moments.

The moments where she is not at her best emotionally and it’s manifesting in bad ways. He knows that Mal had planned to use her to get to the wand in the first place before dumping her when that wasn’t going anywhere.

He knows that’s she’s afraid of them by the way she reacts to them in her first scene in Goodness Class.

He knows all of that.

And he still drags her onto a dance floor, refusing to let her be alone.

You could argue that Jay was there too, but her immediately ditched to jump on the Audrey train so…

This small moment, Carlos’ selfless act of kindness, plants a seed that most people laughed at or rolled their eyes - but all the same it was there.

And that little seed began to grow until two years later (six months in the actual movies) we get a beautiful Janelos flower.

Now D2 Janelos is some quality stuff and never have I seen so many people hate a ship that hasn’t done anything wrong.

And I think it’s fitting that Carlos’ arc for D2 is all centered around Jane.

In the first movie, he conquered his fear of dogs.

Now in this movie, he conquers his fear of being rejected by her.

Now if you’re an over analyzer by nature and a Carlos stan by choice, you tend to pick up on subtleties that Disney doesn’t have the guts to cover. Most notably, Carlos being touch/affection starved

You can see it in the ways his mother doesn’t show him love outside of threats and total, emotional reliance. In the way the VKs don’t particularly reciprocate his touches unless absolutely necessary. Or unless you’re Jay and you need to pull and alpha male moment and start wrastling.

And you can definitely see it in the way he thrives off of contact with Dude, and later, Jane.

Now somehow you people don’t think it is absolutely incredible that Carlos De Vil, physically and emotionally abused since birth, grew up on the Isle where love and dating were not a common place thing, fell in love.

And with the girl that was afraid of him in the first movie.

And omg I could talk about Carlos “Heart Eyes” De Vil forever and ever. Amen.

But instead I’m gonna talk about the three most major Janelos scenes in the film.

First one is gonna be the truth gummy scene.

First of all, Carlos’ puppy dog eyes when he’s thinking about Jane restore my life to the full one million years I am supposed to live.

People you are not allowed to overlook what Carlos was going to do in this short and beautiful scene.

Because he’s never really lived a life where he can speak his mind and share his feelings, the whole movie he’s struggling to even figure out how he can open up to Jane.

Not change his personality to get her attention.

Not making a love potion that’ll force her to love him.

No, he decides that the only way to approach it is honesty - by that I mean he agrees to sacrifice lying for the rest of his mortal life. And Mal gives him plenty of reasons to back out, most of them being about her but still, and he simply replies, “I’ll take my chances.”

Ugh.

The world did not do anything good enough to earn Carlos De Vil.

But the thing is, the truth gummy is his only hope to help him spit out how he feels about Jane. Because whenever he’s in her presence all he can do is freeze up and stutter. Simply due to the fact that when he’s faced with the chance, Carlos has no clue how to describe what he feels and what he wants.

But he knows that his heart does.

It’s in there somewhere and dang he’s gonna get it out because he cares about her so much and just wants to TELL her how he feels when he looks at her.

Of course then Dude eats it and all those years Carlos’ heart eyes had given me instantly went away again.

And then the whole Janelos plot line takes a bit of a nap until the third act of the movie when Carlos decides that Mal alienating herself from the Core Four ain’t helping her mental health and their friendship.

That’s when he drops the absolute BARS of knowledge, “Then don’t.”

He tells her that she never should change herself just to make someone else happy, you’ll never know if they really love you that way.

And I just wanna take a moment to wonder where Carlos got all these strong good person energies, because being raised on an Isle where love and dating aren’t even concepts should show in all the VKs.

Yet in D2 and D3 we can see that Carlos and Evie both seem to approach love with an impressive maturity that I can’t even fathom how they figured it out.

His advice is a comfort to Mal as well as Jay’s protective big brother move, and then we get to see the way his own advice affects him.

His Lovecraftian horror paraphrases what he said in the earlier conversation, “If she doesn’t love you for who you are than she isn’t the one.”

But this applies differently than in the Ben/Mal situation.

Carlos doesn’t try to change who he is or how he acts (unless you count the sacrificing lying thing but that wasn’t really used to earn her love so) but he gets the general idea.

And so, Carlos offers himself to her.

Just him, and a date and his love because that’s all he has to give her.

And she can either say yes and accept him and he can finally begin to understand what he’s feeling.

Or, she can turn him away - not wanting anything to do with what he has for her.

Which leads to such a beautiful scene, ugh I could write songs about the Janelos confession scene it’s that good.

First you see Carlos running at the speed of sound just to catch her, and he was definitely running around the whole campus because he absolutely needed to do this before he chickened out like every other time in the movie.

And at first it doesn’t seem to click in Jane’s head, because she’s only ever been just Jane.

Not pretty like Audrey or athletic like Lonnie.

Boys didn’t flirt with her or ask her out on dates, certainly not the boys she liked.

So of course, like the other times he had tried, she just wasn’t getting it. Too preoccupied with party planning and not getting her hopes up to let it sink in.  And that’s when Carlos does something that he didn’t even need a truth gummy to do.

He gives her a list of all that he can give her, looking into her eyes and waiting for her to take or leave it

And not only does she take it, but she fully adds all the things on the list that she’s always wanted to do with him, giving herself right back to him in the process.

Leaving Carlos absolutely shocked and overwhelmed and happy.

He just figured she’d either say yes or no.

Her giving herself to him wasn’t even a consideration in his mind.

And then she throws him for a loop once again, by throwing her arms around him and holding him tight.

And honestly, Carlos’ reaction says it all.

The first time somebody initiated legitimate affection towards him, and it’s from the girl he loves no less.

He’s at a loss for words and can’t even fathom what he’s feeling, but finally, Carlos is the one hugging back. Clinging onto her for dear life because it’s almost like he can’t believe this is real.

The next time we see them, they’re both looking super fine at cotillion; and let me tell you that seeing touch starved Carlos finally getting to hold hands and cuddle with his girlfriend makes me weak every time. You can see that for now, they’re figuring it out, they’ve both been super far away from the whole love thing so now they’ve just gotta go at a healthy pace for them.

Regardless of that, you can really see how much they not only love but need each other.

And then it was gonna be another two years until we’d get to figure what the writers were gonna do with Janelos, if anything at all.

During that time I had gotten well acquainted with the horrifying wall of Janelos hate you had to walk along before getting occasional content. So obviously, I chose to have nothing to do with the fandom and then Janelos fell off my radar again until I found the nerve to watch the third movie.

And oh my goodness remember just a few lines ago when I said that Jane and Carlos needed each other?

That was the key point of their story in D3.

While I think it’s poorly shown, Carlos’ character arc from a quiet abuse victim with a good heart to an honest to goodness hero (I’m talking the kinds they write songs about) is just amazingly beautiful and deserved so much more screen time than it actually got.

In D3, Carlos finally has something to lose.

Or, more accurately, something he needs to protect.

I really wish they had zeroed in on him worrying about Jane more, because while it was still there it wasn’t very focused on.

Not that I can be mad because their reuniting scene was something that made me immediately sit up in my chair and go, “Oh my fluffing gosh they have a thing.”

Like I’m sorry, what?

You’re telling me that whenever they cling to each other like that Carlos has that same look of just, pure happiness.

“She loves me and I love her, I’m never letting her go.”

Carlos De Vil went from someone who had never known or felt love in his life, to loving a girl so much it made me fall out of my chair.

D3 just wanted to remind us that the VKs have come very far, and now they’re happy and loved and we don’t need to worry about them.

All I can say is that Jane and Carlos are just an amazing couple if you step back and just look at what it means for them to be together.

A touch starved abuse victim and an insecure cheerleader fell in love and surrendered their hearts completely. And you don’t see that anywhere near Disney as a franchise, much less dcoms.

Bottom line, I know I went off for a hot minute but if we’re being honest I still have about a trillion things I could say about “Jarlos.”

But I’m pretty sure I’ve elaborated enough  to get my point across.

I just wanna say that Carlos would literally never let his mother come anywhere near the light of his life and that was some total BS.

[softeddiek]

Political Campaign au

after debating whether or not to finish it all and post it as a oneshot, or post it as four separate chapters, i finally decided to just put the first chapter up, lol

fic to go with this gendrya photoset

read on ao3

August

It’s nearing 3pm, the sun is beating down on her neck, and Arya is ready to finish for the day and head home.

When she had agreed to help out with Margaery’s campaign (or rather, when Sansa had hounded her into helping) she had hoped she wouldn’t have to spend every weekend canvassing, maybe spend some time hitting the phones instead. At least then when people were yelling obscenities at you and questioning how you got their phone number (public record people) it was done in the cool, albeit a bit stale, air conditioning of the office Margaery was renting out. She would admit though, the app that Margaery and her campaign team insisted on them using to keep track of houses they’d stopped at was a lot more efficient than the paper and clipboards they had used for Robb’s last campaign.

Normally she wouldn’t mind canvassing too much. Sure, people could be rude and, sometimes, downright hostile. But, despite all of her grumbling, Arya really believed in Margaery as a candidate and was always pleased to be met with a constituent eager to learn more about her and her platform. Still, Arya had had a long week at work and the last thing she wanted to do today was get up at 8am, drive over to the already hectic office, and be sent out to some neighborhood she wasn’t familiar with in order to convince people that they really ought to be thinking about the midterm election three months from now. Not when she could be home relaxing and catching up on chores around the house.

So, when she looks at her phone and sees she only has one house left on the map to hit before she can head back to where she parked her car, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Old Gods. Hoping it’ll be an easy one—older, same party affiliation as Margaery, frequent voter—she clicks on the voter profile.

Gendry Waters (I)

Male, 33 y/o

1712 NW Fleabottom Rd.

No voter history available

She finds herself letting out a sigh at the Independent mark by his name, and yet another one at seeing the man has never voted before.

Margaery’s primary had been a closed one, so only registered members of their party could vote in it. She had easily beaten Albar Royce and her team had immediately gone into overdrive so as to win the general election against that shithead, Joffrey Lannister. She now needed to shift some of her focus to constituents who were registered with the main opposing party, fringe parties, and Independents. Arya had nothing against Independents, per say, she just hated trying to convince them to vote for someone running under a major party. They were just as likely to swing to the other party as they were hers and, with no voter history to look at, this guy could easily be supporting Lannister already. It was never any fun trying to talk to someone, only to realize they were a Lannister supporter, none-to-eager to have you on their doorstep.

Seeing Mr. Waters’ house is only one house over from the one she had just stopped at and gotten no answer from (though she was positive she heard the sound of the tv coming from the inside of the house), she wipes the sweat off her brow, plasters on a smile, and makes her way toward it.

The house is buttery yellow in color, the shutters a sun-bleached red, and the grass is what her mom would describe as ‘a few days past in need of a mowing.’ It’s a cute house really, if looking a little bit like the owner doesn’t have time for the upkeep. Arya isn’t really one to talk though; her job at the local state park keeps her busy and she often finds herself putting off household chores. There’s an old Chevy parked in the driveway so it’s safe to say the owner is home. Whether he’ll actually open the door to her or not is a whole other story. She doesn’t see any Lannister signs in the yard, so at least he doesn’t seem to be a fervent supporter of the opposition.

She’s got the thought of sitting in her car with the AC on high on her mind as she reaches forward and raps twice on the door, taking one step back so as not to crowd the guy. She’s counting the seconds in her head, debating on whether talking to him is worth another knock (Margaery has three months before the election, someone is bound to have to visit this house again if she marks it as a ‘Not Home’) when she hears a muffled voice call out.

“Hang on a second.”

Holding in her groan, she begins rehearsing the script in her head and rifling through the pamphlets she has left to hand out. She’s propping the stack up on one knee, trying to root out the one with Margaery’s amendment recommendations on it, when the door jerks open and startles her, causing her to nearly send the stack to the ground.

Standing in the doorway is a man who very well could be Gendry Waters. He’s tall and broad, with thick black hair and piercing blue eyes. The stubble on his jaw and slight wrinkles around those blue eyes certainly make him look like he could be in his 30s. Arya tends to be too engrossed in her spiel on Margaery to truly take in what the people she’s talking to look like but, frankly, this guy is hot.

And also frowning down at her.

She clears her throat, already worried from the look on his face that this is going to go badly. “Good afternoon sir! My name is Arya and I’m a volunteer for—”

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.” He’s moving to shut the door in her face when her sneaker-clad foot darts out, wedging itself between the door and its frame. She cringes internally, knowing her mother would be having a conniption about how unsafe that move just was if she could see her.

Engaging a constituent like this is not a good idea, but she can’t help herself from blurting out, louder than necessary, “I’m not selling anything. Look, are you Gendry Waters or what?”

He eyes her warily. “Who’s asking?”

“If you’d have let me finish,” she grumbles out. His eyebrow raises, an unimpressed look adorning his face. “I’m a volunteer for the Margaery Tyrell campaign. Are you Gendry Waters?”

He looks reluctant to answer. “Yeah. And before you start asking for donations or something, you should know I don’t—”

“Vote. Yeah, I know.”

His forehead scrunches up in confusion. Knowing he’s about to ask how she knows that (they always do) she decides to speak before he can.

Rattling off parts of the script she’s been using the past few weeks, she says, “Margaery Tyrell is running for State Senate this election against Republican incumbent Joffrey Lannister. A former social worker, Margaery feels strongly about the housing crisis plaguing our district. Should she be elected, she looks forward to being sent to our state’s capital to immediately begin working with fellow legislators on ways to provide affordable housing to lower income families in our district and around the state. Margaery is also a staunch advocate for the environment, and supports recently introduced S.B. 4120, the Kingswood Wildlife Preservation Act. Do these seem like qualities in a candidate that interest you?”

The man—Gendry Waters’ forehead is still furrowed, only now there’s a scowl around his mouth. “Tyrell? As in the family that owns that big agricultural company out in the Reach?”

She hesitates. He’s that type of independent then. Arya herself was never too keen on the Tyrell family business, but in all her years as Sansa’s friend, Margaery had proven herself to be down-to-earth and, recently, willing to take on the big corporations by closing legal loopholes that allow them to wreak havoc on the environment. “Margaery’s father and grandmother own shares in Tyrell Farm Corp., yes.” Seeing he’s about to retort back she adds on, “Margaery has, however, asked that her family have little involvement in her campaign, and only make personal donations totaling no more than $100.”

He scoffs. “Right, I’m sure she has.”

If Arya couldn’t feel sweat pooling on the back of her neck and the rumble of hunger that came from only eating an apple on the drive to the office this morning, she might have stayed. She might have set the record straight about Margaery and the donations she was accepting for her campaign. She might have done all in her power to sway this man into voting for Margaery. But honestly, after the attitude he was giving her and all of these other factors, she couldn’t be assed to try. Besides, if he has a problem with Margaery’s background, at least she now knows he won’t be voting for Joffrey. The Lannister family is a terror.

“Okay, I can see I’m not going to be getting anywhere here. Can I just leave some pamphlets with you?”

“Yeah, fine,” he grumbles out. She hands some of the glossy fliers to him, ready for the inevitable slamming of the door.

He’s staring at her pointedly, clearing his throat when all she does is stare at him confused. “Your foot…”

Embarrassed, she pulls her foot back from the doorway it was still sticking out in, turning around to walk the few blocks back to her car. “Have a good day sir,” she calls out behind her sarcastically. She rolls her eyes at the sound of the door slamming.

It takes a lot of restraint to not add “a bit of an asshole” to the notes on his voter profile.

--

Arya’s just washing up the last of the dishes she’d let pile up over the week in her sink when her drier buzzes, signaling the load she’d put in was done. Putting the last plate in the drying rack, she wipes her hands off on a dish towel and heads toward her laundry room.

As soon as she’d gotten home from canvassing, she’d taken a shower, thrown on some comfortable clothes, and started making headway in her list of chores. She’s hoping to get through the last few things by tomorrow morning, so she might have time to get some gardening done. Jon always makes fun of her choosing to spend her Sundays gardening, especially when she spends all of her week outdoors at work, but she’s pretty sure he’s just upset that he can’t keep a plant alive for shit.

She’s just finished putting her clothes away when she enters the living room to see her phone light up with a text. Checking it, she sees it’s from her friend Shireen.

Queen Shireen: Drinks tonight? On me.

Arya: You had me at free drinks, lmao

Queen Shireen: Haha, I thought I would. The Crossroads?

Arya: Ew, no, that gross bartender might be working

Queen Shireen: Tru, tru.

Arya: How about Hot Pie’s place

Queen Shireen: Is he working tonight?

Arya: Idk, maybe

Arya: If he is, we can probably get some free fries from him

Queen Shireen: I’m down.

Arya: 9:30?

Queen Shireen: Lmao bitch, you thought.

Queen Shireen: I have to be up early tomorrow to catch the ferry to Dragonstone. I’m going to visit my father and stepmom.

Arya: Ooh, the wicked witch of Dragonstone herself

Queen Shireen: She wishes.

Queen Shireen: …literally. She wishes she were a witch.

Arya: Don’t we all

Queen Shireen: Lol.

Queen Shireen: 7:30?

Arya: Sounds good! I’ll see you there

--

The bar Hot Pie works at had been an inn before it had been a bar. He’d been the cook there and when it had been bought out by some congressman named Dondarrion from the Marches, they’d kept Hot Pie on. At his insistence, they’d kept much of the inn’s menu when it became the bar, though most people settled for ordering fries and nachos, much to Hot Pie’s chagrin. The outside was just as dingy as it had been when it was an inn—apparently the new owner couldn’t be fucked to clean it up a bit—and the sign on the front was in such disrepair, that nobody knew the actual name of the place. She’d heard some of the bartenders refer to themselves as a brotherhood, but she figured that was just some weird southern thing.

When Arya arrives, she has to muscle her way past a few people before reaching the corner booth Shireen has managed to snag, her purse, coat, and drink spread across the seat and table, an intimidating look on her face. Well, intimidating for Shireen.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, just lost track of time a bit.” She slides some of Shireen’s stuff over and plops down on the sticky vinyl seat.

Shireen rolls her eyes. “’s fine, I got started without ya.”

She sends her friend a grin. “I can tell. So, what’s wrong then, why are you already tipsy at…,” she checks her phone, “8:04?”

Shireen lets out a prolonged sigh, propping her right arm onto the table and resting her face against her hand. “Just not lookin’ forward to going home tomorrow.”

Arya shrugs. “So don’t.”

“That’s the thing. Think I really need to.” She begins twirling around her empty glass, the ice clinking softly. “My dad’s been really moody since he lost his reelection.”

She lets out a scoff. “Stannis hates Dragonstone and the people that live there. He lost that election two years ago. We both know how this works Shireen, he could’ve up and relocated and ran somewhere more conservative. Or, he could’ve run for something at the local level.”

“As if the mighty Stannis Baratheon would deign to go from Senator to…to…to mayor or something. And the way that Red Witch is in his ear all of the time, tellin’ him how he oughta run for President, how he could be more successful than his brother…Yeah, I definitely need to go home for a bit. Just don’t really wanna.” She takes another pull of her drink, frowning when she gets nothing but melted ice. Arya sends a soft look her friend’s way, concerned.

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to go get one drink for me and a water for you, close out the tab, then we’ll head to your place and watch some trashy tv. You’ll go to sleep, I’ll crash on your couch, and I’ll drive you to catch the ferry tomorrow if, and only if, you still feel up to going, okay?”

“Fine, fine. But you should know, Hot Pie isn’t working tonight so we can’t get free fries,” she pouts.

She chuckles at her friend’s disgruntled expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy us some fries.”

After a few minutes she’s managed to flag down a bartender. She’s leaning against the bar, hoping whoever is in the back tonight makes them as crispy as Hot Pie does, when she sees a familiar face under a mop of black hair a few stools down, nursing a beer. It’s the guy from earlier, Gendry. He’s in conversation with someone, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. If he looked good before, frowning at her, he looks even better now; friendlier, more open. Too bad his personality didn’t seem to match. When his eyes drift past the guy he’s talking to, meeting her own, she quickly glances back to behind the bar.

Once she gets her drinks and fries, she maneuvers her way through the thickening crowd back to Shireen, steadfastly ignoring Gendry Waters. She places the fries down in front of Shireen, trying to drag her attention away from the bar.

“What are you looking at?”

Shireen’s forehead is scrunched up in thought. “Why were you glaring at my Uncle Renly?”

“Who?”

“The guy with the black hair and the beer. That’s my uncle.” Maybe Shireen had had more to drink than she originally thought.

“No,” she drags out, “that’s some guy I met canvassing today. His name’s Gendry.”

“Weird. He looks just like my uncle.” She picks up a handful of fries, shoving them in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “Hot Pie’s fries are crispier.”

--

It’s around 9 am when she gets home from taking Shireen to catch the ferry. She hadn’t slept very well on Shireen’s couch, so she’s ready to lay down in her own soft bed to catch a few more hours of sleep, maybe make some pancakes after, then head outside to tend to her garden. She’s just finished changing from her grimy bar clothes into some pajamas when her phone lights up from her nightstand.

Sansa: Emergency

Sansa: We’re phonebanking from 12-4 today and two volunteers said they can’t come in

Sansa: Marge and I really need the extra help and you’re great with the phones

Sansa: Please

Arya: Ok

Arya: You owe me pancakes next weekend

Sansa: Deal! Thanks so much, see you soon

She lets out a sigh, setting an alarm for 11 before settling into bed.