#no one cares. I had a dream she was here and I asked her why she left me and she said ‘I didn’t go anywhere cait. I’m right here.’ like. I c

[miffyscakes]

I'm currently sick and obviously my mind instantly goes to Sevika.

So how about Sevika taking care of a sick, almost delirious reader? A reader who keeps blabbering nonesense but at some point they confess to Sevika with snot running down their nose and puffy eyes.

In Sickness And In Health

sevika x sick! reader

synopsis: Winters in Zaun have become relentless, and you've been known to being prone to getting sick easily.

However, your roommate - the same one that you've always had a 'thing' for - is always there during these rough times.

warnings: fluff, reader works with sevika that's why they live together

word count: 1.2k

a/n: aw I hope this helps you ml! Feel better soon, muah muah muah (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

"Hey," you hear a familiar gruff voice call you, but it's muffled. "Wake up."

You groan as the bright lights of your bedroom shine in your eyes. You pull the covers over your body, attempting to shield your sensitive eyes and attempting to warm your frozen body up.

You don't see it, but Sevika raises an eyebrow after seeing how you react.

"You ok?" She tugs at the covers, but your grip is tighter than she had presumed it'd be.

"Mm," you groan in response.

"Not again," Sevika sighs as she finally pulls the covers off of your body. She watches as you flinch once the cold air grazes over your already cold body.

You feel the heat of Sevika's right hand press gently against your forehead - checking for your temperature. You hear her let out a soft 'tsk.'

"Wait here," you hear her say as her footsteps slowly disappear down the hallway of your guys' apartment.

You can hear as she attempts to ignite the gas stove within your kitchen - as well as her frustrated grunts that follow as the stove refuses to turn on.

You know that she's making you soup, that's practically a part of her daily routine now thanks to your weak immune system. However, you're not sure as to what soup it is.

However, when you sniff at the air - trying to guess from afar as to what Sevika is cooking exactly - you notice the lack of usual pleasant scents that fill your nostrils.

You sniff again.

Nothing.

You've lost your sense of smell.

You blink for a moment.

You already felt frustrated at the current weakened state of your body, but the fact that you've lost an entire sense frustrated you further.

You think for a moment.

A moment.

Before deciding that you'll disregard Sevika's advice to wait in bed, and that you'll instead follow her to the kitchen. As you stand up from the bed, your legs shake.

It feels as if your body isn't used to the concept of walking, or even gravity as a whole. As you take steps further down the hallway, your legs begin to feel weaker.

"What're you doing?" Sevika asks, her back turned to you but she was still able to notice your presence.

You open your mouth, wanting to provide your girlfriend with a snooty response. However, when you attempt to speak your words come out into a mumbled mess. You hear Sevika's stifled chuckles as she sees the horrible state of you.

"Go back to bed," she says as she walks towards you. You feel the warmth of her right hand and melt into it as it's placed on your waist. However, when the feeling of her cold and metallic arm touches you, you flinch in surprise.

"Shit," Sevika mutters. "Sorry."

You don't say anything, you just attempt to give her a soft smile.

As you open your puffy eyes, you get a glimpse of some softness in her eyes. A kind of softness that practically nobody else has ever seen.

You shakily bring your hands up towards her face, caressing the scars that cover the left side of her face.

Sevika looks at you, confused as to what you're doing.

"You're pretty," you giggle. You feel so dazed that you forgot that you're not dreaming at the moment.

"...Huh?" Sevika blinks at you and raises an eyebrow. "What are you even saying?" She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Go to bed," she says, pulling her hands away from you and going towards your guys' stove to focus on the soup that's being made for you.

While Sevika doesn't seem like the type of person to do something like this for someone - because she isn't that type of person - she had began doing it for you due to you persistently nagging her whenever you were sick.

Although, a part of you likes to believe that she does it because she cares about you.

Who knows, that could actually be the case.

You rub the sleep and drowsiness out of your eyes, opening them up more to look at your roommate. You pay attention to the way her muscles of her right arm flex as she stirs the concoction she's making for you.

You drag your feet towards her - basically half-asleep at this point - and you lean onto her body.

"What the," you hear the surprise in her tone as you lean your body weight onto her. Treating her like a warm pillow; a warm pillow that likes to make the apartment smell strongly of smoke and alcohol.

You hum as you melt into the natural warmth that her body is able to emit, despite the harsh weather outside of your apartment.

"Get off," she grumbles.

You don't respond.

Instead, you just melt even deeper into her warmth. You feel as a sigh escapes from Sevika's lungs.

She defeatedly shuts off the stove and turns towards you.

"Go to bed," she says sternly.

You don't say anything, you just begin to close your eyes and allow yourself to fall asleep. Despite you standing upright at the moment, you still manage to fall asleep.

However, you're able to hear and feel your surroundings.

You feel as Sevika's arm catches you - almost instinctively. You hear as she sighs and carries you effortlessly in her arms.

As you feel your body get placed onto your mattress, you open your mouth to speak.

But, due to your weakened state it's practically impossible for Sevika to hear you.

"What?" She says, confused. She leans in closer, trying to hear what you're telling her.

"You're really nice," you giggle, your eyes feeling grossly-crusty.

Sevika blinks at you and crosses her arms, "what kind of virus is infecting your brain?"

You shrug and giggle once more.

"Just go to bed," she sighs, walking towards your door to shut it.

"I really like you, y'know?" You gurgle through coughs and a nasally voice.

Sevika pauses at your doorframe and turns towards you to face you. She walks towards you and grabs a tissue from a tissue box placed your bedside table. Or well, the one Sevika placed there because she had been annoyed by you constantly asking her to bring you tissues from the hallway whenever you were sick.

She wipes your nose - a look of slight disgust on her face as she does so - then throws out the tissue, still looking at you.

"How about you say that again when you don't have snot running from your nose?" She chuckles as she shuts the lights of your room and closes the door.

It doesn't take long for you to accept the exhaustion that's taking over your body.

What you don't know though, is the fact that this is already another thing that Sevika had grown accustomed to. You hadn't realized how many times you've already confessed to her.

She never brings it up - knowing that you were in a vulnerable state each time - and waits for you to admit it when your immune system isn't literally breaking down.

taglist: @freakyjorker @poeticrenaissance @girlsngearboxes @notsevikaa @riotstemple29 @hadesboneyard @ellabslover @joyispunk @babydeertears @beewives

[kazanfamily]

Double Life-inspired work for @blueishspace's Pastverse AU!

Figured I'd start linking to the timeline for people who don't know what this is about. :P Anyways, here it is!

Code Fracture - Double The Pain

The world was spinning around her. The burning pain of the arrow wounds in her back still felt fresh in her mind.

Pearl had just had one of the worst days in her life.

And now she was reliving her other worst day.

The events replayed like a blur. Martyn took her to the Nether, Scott and Cleo left them.

Surely, it was all just a bad dream, right? Her mind was still distressed over her Past Life death, and this was its way of getting those feelings out. It would be over soon, right?

But then she woke up.

And she was still there.

Alone in the forest, with no one but Tilly by her side.

This was Tilly the First. If nothing else, at least Pearl felt comforted by seeing her there and alive again. But it didn't erase everything else that she felt.

As she stared up at the sky, it finally began to sink in that this was all real. This horrible, terrible nightmare that she was living through, was actually happening. Confusion turned to panic turned to despair.

Was there any way to escape? To stop all this from happening. Out of all the seasons she didn't want to have to do again, it would be this one. At the very least, if she had reacted fast enough on the first day, maybe she wouldn't be alone again.

But it was all just too much. She couldn't even focus on what she was doing. She barely even remembered anything through all the dissociation.

Pearl took a few deep breaths. It was gonna be okay. She'd just had a few bad days, but she would make it through again. It would be fine.

Hoping to clear her mind, she began wandering around the server. She passed by the Ranch, and froze as she saw Jimmy, who was carrying a few goats into a fenced area.

She didn't want to be mad at him. In fact, she was proud of how much he'd changed. Still, it was because of him that...

Pearl shook those thoughts away, ignoring the voice in her head telling her not to help them. As she went to approach, however, she saw Tango making a wall of stone at the end of the enclosure, and explaining to Jimmy that they needed to be natural blocks.

Wait. Since when did Tango know how to do this? Pearl was sure that she had to help them out with getting goat horns last time.

She decided to sit and watch, trying to hide behind their wall. Once their excitement over some goats finally faded, she took her opportunity to approach the two.

"Hey guys," she nervously waved. "Um, I just wanted to ask something real quick, so... could I speak to Tango for a moment?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Tango turned to her. "Ask away, my friend!"

"Umm..." Pearl paused as she saw Jimmy step closer. "...Just Tango. That'd be ideal, I think."

"Hold on, what do you want with him?!" Jimmy spoke up. "And why can't I be a part of the conversation as well?!"

"It's just..." Pearl struggled for words. "It's really important. I need to know where you learned how to get goat horns. 'Cause, you see... I remember—um, I..." She sighed. "It's hard to explain."

Tango's expression seemed to shift slightly. "So, uh... Hey Jimmy, you wanna, maybe, I dunno, go show off to everyone that you've got a horn now or somethin'?"

"What?! No, dude, I don't trust her!" Jimmy argued. "I'm staying with you right here."

Tango turned to look Jimmy in the eyes. "Just trust me, okay? I'll be fine."

Jimmy hesitated, shifting uncomfortably for a few moments before sighing. "Alright, I'll go. Just be careful, dude."

"I will, don't worry." Tango waved as Jimmy walked out of the Ranch, then turned back to Pearl. "So... you remember what, exactly?"

Pearl explained everything. How it all felt like a bad dream. How she'd played a Life Series where the world changed between versions, and how she'd suddenly been brought back to relive the past.

"Wow, I still just can't believe it." Tango said after she was done.

"But... you said that you remembered it as well, right?" Pearl asked.

"Oh no, not that part." Tango held back a snicker. "It's just surreal that you're the third person out, is all."

"DON'T LAUGH AT ME!" Pearl hid her face under her hoodie. "I had a horrible day, and it just keeps getting worse, okay?!"

"Yeah, I know, it's okay." Tango gave her a few slow pats on the back. "I've been there myself. ...Many, many times before."

"So... what do I do now?" She shyly peeked her head out to look at him.

"Listen, I've had to relive several years back here, so at this point, I've come to realize that the answer is... just accept it, there's no other way."

"But—But I don't wanna be stuck back here! These were some of the worst days of my life, y'know!"

Tango paused, looked away, and sighed. "I know. I've had to go through some of mine as well. Just know, being here means you've got another chance. If nothing else, you can at least try to make things right this time."

For probably the first time since arriving back here, Pearl's expression shifted into a faint smile. "When did you become so wise?"

Tango cleared his throat and adjusted himself. "Like I said, been here for years. So anyway! I've got my own goals to get back to, and I'll leave the rest up to you."

"Hey, Tango..." Pearl called his attention as he was about to leave. "Thanks. I needed that."

Stopping and looking back, Tango gave her a thumbs-up before leaving. "...Good luck."

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

was having trans marty thoughts again and i came to a realization about this scene

[godblooded]

every single minute i feel like a pressure valve that’s winding up too tightly and any minute it’ll just pop.

[sajagz]

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Kiss To Change Everything

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When Bucky becomes the Winter Soldier again, he follows you around. Only you. Funny thing is, you and Bucky aren't exactly friends. So why is the Winter Soldier protecting you?

Disclaimer: Fluff, angst, a hint of smut towards the end, a brief mention of a sex dream, flirting whilst sparring, multiple kisses, love bites, swearing, the Winter Soldier protects the reader, reader watches over Bucky, one bed trope (kinda). Enemies (to friends) to lovers. A little mutual pining. Not fully proof read.

Four days. Four days, twelve hours and twenty six minutes. 

That was how long Bucky had been watching over you. Or rather, The Winter Soldier. 

“Four days!” you exclaimed quietly to yourself. “Four damn days.”

As you turned around, you jumped, nearly scattering everything off your desk. 

You swore under your breath, “What is your problem? Make a damn noise, or something!”

Four days of hell. 

For everyone. 

You had been in a meeting when Bucky had gone on the mission with Sam and Natasha, so the points were unclear. The main thing you knew was that Bucky left for the mission, but the Winter Soldier returned. 

And he hadn’t left your side since touching wheels to tarmac from the jet. And, it would make sense, Bucky watching over you. But the thing was- 

You and Bucky had never even been friendly with each other. If you ever did talk to one another, and that was a big if, it was mostly sarcastic comments and threats thrown to each other's throat. 

None of it made sense. 

Shuri had been called instantly and she had checked Bucky over. He was definitely the Winter Soldier, but he wasn’t a killing machine. He was still Bucky. Bucky was held behind a wall of memories. 

But the one thing he didn’t do was attack. It was almost like that part had been conditioned out of him. Instead, he was this looming bodyguard that never left you alone. 

Not for a minute, not even for a second. 

You never heard him, but you could feel him. Watching you, following you, part of him studying you. 

It was creepy. 

As you entered the kitchen, you turned around on your heel quickly. The Winter Soldier didn’t flinch. He just stopped walking and looked at you. 

“Alright, no. I can’t keep doing this. Sam told me not to, but, please. I am begging you. Stop following me!”

He didn’t move. He didn’t even speak. 

You ran a hand down your face and sighed. 

“Fine. If you’re not gonna leave me alone, then sit.”

You pulled out a chair and pointed to it. 

“I’m gonna be here for a while and I already don’t like people in the kitchen with me. So, sit. Or fuck off.”

He was silent. And then he moved. One slow blink before he turned his head and looked at the chair. He looked back at you and you nodded. 

Then he walked over to it and sat down. But his gaze remained focused on you. 

It wasn’t much, but it was breathing space. 

“Thank you.”

Trying your best to block him out, you started pulling out different bowls and ingredients from the cupboards. You heard the creak of the chair when he watched you climb onto the cabinet to grab the flour from the highest shelf. 

“No!” You shouted. “You move from that chair and I swear to god, Barnes, I will follow through with my promise about buying a military grade magnet. Sit!”

The chair creaked again after a short minute. 

For the next three hours, he remained sitting in that seat. People walked in and out constantly, but each time you heard a creak you’d just shoot him a look and he’d sit back down. 

“Any word from Shuri?” You asked Wanda as she walked inside to snack on your cupcake sprinkles. 

She shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe he sees you as his commander.”

You scoffed, but a pang of guilt struck your chest. “Please, when he’s him he never follows my orders. Does the opposite, actually.”

Wanda shrugged and looked over at Bucky whose eyes hadn’t left you. “Maybe he just really cares for you.”

“Now, we both know that’s not true.”

Wanda just hummed. “Who knows? There is a fine line between love and hate.”

You nodded. “Yes. That fine line is my sanity.”

Wanda laughed before jumping off the counter and leaving you to continue your baking. “Stranger things have been known to happen.”

You shook your head, but for a moment you let your gaze land on Bucky in the corner. 

There was still no explanation as to why it was you he’d chosen to follow around. Not Sam or Natasha – the very two who had been with him when it happened. Or even Steve. But you prayed it wasn’t because he saw you as his commander. 

You and Bucky may never have gotten along. You could hate each other’s guts for all eternity. But what he went through as the Winter Soldier…

That was something that nobody should ever have to suffer through. And he did. For seventy years. 

So, after the hours of being watched and guarded. After the nights of walking outside of your bedroom only to run into his back outside your door – the same place you would grab his t-shirt and drag him back into your room and make him sit down on the sofa chair on the other side of your room. 

If he was gonna be watching over you through the night, too, it meant he wasn’t sleeping. He needed sleep. But putting him back into the freezer tank wasn’t going to help anyone. 

And after the days of being followed around everywhere. 

You finally sat him down. 

Everyone had gone to bed hours ago. Most of the lights in the building had been switched off. The only light in the living space was the dim light that floated across from the kitchen island across the room. 

“Why are you protecting me?” 

If Shuri couldn’t get the answers, you were gonna ask the man himself. Maybe he had an explanation. 

But he only replied in Russian. 

“You’re important.”

Your gaze flickered over his. There was barely a hint of Bucky in him. The person sat in front of you was a soldier. A protector. Someone who told you you’re important, the same way he would tell you he had eggs for breakfast. 

“Important?” you questioned. “Important to who?”

You leaned a little closer to him, almost out of instinct. And for a split second, you saw something flicker in his eyes. Something a little softer in the middle of the brambles. But it was gone as quickly as it came. 

Reaching out, you turned his head to look back at you and you swallowed your pride. 

“Bucky,” you said, your voice soft and needing. “I need you to come back to me. I know we’re not friends, but I need you to come back to me. Bucky. Not Hydra’s Perfect Creation.”

You waited in the silence, his eyes fixed on yours. But the only thing that stared back at you as the same deep, if slightly vacant, look that had been staring at you for the last four days. 

Leaning on the edge of despair, you did something you never thought you would ever do. Not with Bucky, and certainly not with the Winter Soldier. 

You kissed him. 

Really kissed him. 

Not the undercover kiss on the cheek, or the fake movie-style kiss that you were forced to watch whenever Steve chose the film for movie night. 

A real kiss. 

And for a moment, there was nothing. No reaction. No movement. Just a stiffness that only ever came from a soldier taking a command. 

But just as you lost all hope, leaning back a little in order to break the kiss, there was a flicker of something. A slight movement from Bucky. 

His hand reached out and laid itself on your leg. 

You didn’t know how – you and Bucky had never even hugged – but you knew it was him. It was Bucky. 

Just for a fleeting moment, you felt him kiss back as his other hand came to hold your hair against the side of your face. 

But the kiss broke. 

Looking in his eyes; for the first time in four days, you saw something other than the soldier. 

You saw humanity. 

Bucky’s voice broke as he finally spoke. “Y…y/n?”

You didn’t realise when you started, but you felt yourself cry. “Yeah.”

Then you watched the panic take him over as he looked around frantically. “Oh, god- no, no, no. What did I- When did- is everyone-”

You cupped his face and forced him to look at you again. “Everyone’s- hey, everyone’s safe. Nothing happened, Buck. Nothing happened. I swear. You didn’t do anything, Bucky. You’re okay.”

There were tears in his eyes and you felt your heart crack. 

“I could have-”

“You didn’t.”

His eyes remained focused on you as he tried to slow his breathing. And for a moment, you placed one of your hands over his heart. His own hand came to cover and cup that very one against his chest.

However, just as he was calming down, you watched something settle over his gaze as he kept his eyes on you. 

“You kissed me.”

Internally, you panicked. Externally, you moved back and tried to keep your voice as level as you could. 

“I, uh, it was getting creepy, you watching over me all the time. I needed to find a way to break you out of it, so-”

“You kissed me,” Bucky repeated. 

For a second, you nodded. But then you stood. “I should- I should go and-”

Bucky reached out for you and held onto your arm gently as you stood from the sofa. Your eyes landed on his own almost immediately. But where you thought he might have chewed you out for what you did…he didn’t. 

His eyes flickered with something you didn’t quite recognise. Not coming from Bucky, at least. 

“Thank you.”

There was something in his voice that told your instincts he wanted to say something else, or something more. But you couldn’t stand there any longer; the feeling of the kiss was still tingling against your lips and his touch was almost burning your skin. 

And not in the way it would have done before. 

So, you nodded with a polite smile and he let you go. 

“I’m just, I’m gonna go and get Steve or- I’ll be back.”

Bucky watched you leave the room, but he didn’t follow. Meanwhile, you rounded the corner and held a hand to the wall in order to balance yourself before the wave of emotions drowned you there and then. 

“F-Friday. Please…” you took a deep breath. “Please alert, uh, Steve and…Sam and, uh, Princess Shuri.” Your voice broke. “Let them know Bucky is back.”

You could hear the alerts down the hallway and you remained standing as they all came out of their rooms and rushed down the hall past you. 

“He’s okay, but he’s shaken up,” you told Sam as the others ran past. Sam took your word for it and followed them. 

Then you slid to the floor, forcing your breathing to steady itself.

The following month was filled with awkward encounters, quiet encounters, medical tests, field research and psychological tests. 

And, although you and Bucky didn’t talk, you didn’t argue either. You tended to remain at least eight paces from him at all times. 

It was like the roles had been reversed. You were now the one watching over him. 

And when he was in med-bay with Banner and Shuri during the day, you watched over him as he slept at night. 

A month ago, you would have had nightmares about helping Bucky. 

But since his turn. Since that kiss – the one that broke him free – you rarely wanted to leave his side. 

But you didn’t want him to know that, so you remained eight paces away. You stayed outside of his hospital room when the others went in. And, when you fell asleep in the chair beside his bed at night, you left before Banner or Shuri could wake and walk inside to find you there. 

That changed, however, when Bucky let you know he was awake. 

You’d just settled yourself in the chair beside his bed, having put away your book, when he spoke. 

“You’re gonna get a bad back.”

You sat up. “You’re awake.”

“Not for long,” he told you, lifting his arm. “C’mere.”

You were slow to move at first, confused if slightly concerned why he was asking you of all people to lay with him. But as you climbed into the bed beside him, you felt a wave of security wash over you. 

“Is this okay?”

Bucky smiled a little as he leaned into you. “It’s okay.”

As you finally relaxed beside him, you could have swore you heard his heart monitor pick up a little before it leveled itself out again. And for the first time, in a long time, you fell asleep almost instantly. 

So did Bucky. 

By the time morning rolled around, you were the first to wake up. And, for the first time, you took a few minutes to look at the sleeping man beside you. 

A few strands of his hair had fallen in front of his face during the night, so lightly, you swept them away and you felt yourself smile. 

When James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes wasn’t being a pain in your ass all day, he was pretty cute. 

That was when it struck you. Deep in your gut, or maybe your chest. Maybe even your soul…

He’d always been cute. You had always found him cute. Handsome. Sometimes devastatingly so. 

Then you felt the highly structured walls around you crumble into nothing but dust. And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly vulnerable. 

“I-I’ll be back later,” you whispered to him although he was still asleep. 

For a moment, you held onto his hand and pressed a light kiss to the side of his temple before you slowly made your way out of his bed and out of the door. 

But you kept your promise. 

And for three weeks straight, you slept beside him each night until he was finally cleared for duty again and the threat of the person he’d once been moulded into had been eliminated once again. 

That was when things got difficult. Because, not only were you harbouring a rather big secret, but you and Bucky had become friends. 

The bun Bucky had tied at the back of his head was slowly coming loose the longer he spent sparring with you. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” 

Bucky had been trying to get you to talk to him properly all day. 

“There’s nothing to say,” you replied as you circled each other. Bucky ended up with the advantage. 

“Really? Because you seem distracted lately. And that only seems to happen when I’m with you.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, despite your back being pinned to his chest. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, Bucky,” you told him as you swung your legs high to flip you both onto the ground. 

Bucky rolled onto the floor and you had him pinned. 

You smiled, a little breathless. “People might start thinking you’ve got an ego.”

That was when you saw Bucky smirk. And when he smirked, you worried. His hand wrapped itself around your thigh and within three seconds, he had you pinned. 

“Oh, come on.”

“You know, I still think about it.” Bucky’s voice was a little breathless as he practically crawled up your body so he was finally face to face with you. 

You were struggling to get out of his hold. After really trying, you gave up. “Think about what?”

“That kiss.”

You stopped moving and your eyes darted to his face. You tried your best to steady your heartbeat, but you could feel the heat crawling over your chest and up your neck. 

“That was nothing.”

“Liar.” 

“I’m not lying.”

Bucky’s blue gaze focused back on yours. “You forget I know you, Y/n. I know when you’re lying.”

Shit.

Bucky added, “You have a tell.”

“I have a tell?”

He nodded. “Your eyebrow. It twitches before you throw out your lie.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, but he just laughed. Only James Buchanan Barnes would have the audacity to laugh. 

“It was just a kiss, Bucky.”

“Then tell me why it felt like more?”

“Maybe that’s your issue,” you fired back. 

He just smiled, and agreed. “Yeah, maybe.”

In that moment, Bucky’s hand left the grip he had against your wrist in order to fix your hair. His touch lingered for a second longer. 

“But I have a feeling it’s not,” he added.

Your breath was gone. Your heart was working overtime in your chest to keep you alive. All the while, Bucky had a smirk resting upon his face as he stood and left you by the mats, only to grab his things and walk out of the gym door. 

But not before he looked back once more with a small chuckle. 

As you watched the glass door slowly close behind him, you rolled from your side and onto your back once more. “Fucking tease.”

For the rest of the week, Bucky watched you. He watched you watching him, whilst simultaneously trying to avoid him at all costs. But it just made him laugh. Even more so when he would catch you looking away when he finally met your gaze across the dinner table. 

But the subtle touches, the sparring sessions and his fucking teasing all added up. And since you couldn’t work the feelings away, they decided to cut you your own 4K, HD movie to play out inside your head as you entered a deep sleep. 

You woke up with a start – then you felt it. The ache in your core, the coolness of air that hit your inner thigh when you moved your duvet away from you, and the dryness in your throat. 

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Twenty minutes later, you were freshly washed and were standing inside the kitchen with nothing more than the kitchen island bulbs lighting up your workstation. You were on your third batch of cakes when Bucky walked inside, looking like he’d had a fight with his pillow and lost. 

You felt him pause by the door and look at you. You didn’t even have to see him to hear the tired smirk on his face. He continued to watch you as he grabbed what he came for and sat down at the kitchen island across from you. 

It was like he was the Winter Soldier again. Except, you could hear the smile on his face as well as feeling the curiosity in his gaze. 

The odd thing was, Bucky felt the same. He could remember what it was like, feeling the need to be beside you, to watch over you, to protect you. He could remember the moments you talked to him, when you thought he couldn’t hear you. 

He could remember it all. 

But one question stayed on his mind. Even though you were, technically, friends. You still wouldn’t talk to him. Not properly, at least. The closest he came was during your sparring session a little over a week ago. 

“What?” You finally asked, looking at him. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You already knew. 

“Because,” you said as you turned back to your cake batter. 

“Because, why?” Bucky stood and walked over to your side. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Whether it was the sleep deprivation, or the fact that snippets of the sex dream you’d just had about him were playing like flashes in your mind as he sat across from you, you blurted out the truth. 

“Because it’s too hard. Bucky-” You sighed, cutting yourself short. Four in the morning was not the time for this conversation. “Nevermind.”

“No, tell me.”

You stayed quiet and kept your eyes on him for a moment. Then you laid the bowl down on the counter and looked away from him. But you felt his hand hold onto yours. 

“Please,” he begged, quietly. 

“Because…we’re us. Bucky, barely two months ago I was chewing you out over how you stocked your leftovers,” you motioned over to the fridge. “And then…” You looked at him, but you couldn’t form the words. 

So he did it for you. “You kissed me.”

You nodded, your voice quiet as you finally spoke. “I kissed you.”

“Do you still think about it?”

You watched as  his fingers intertwined and danced with yours. “Thought you already knew the answer to that.”

“I need to hear it from you.”

Finally, you looked at him. 

Somehow, it was easier in the kitchen. Easier in the dim light of the kitchen island. Easier when it was just you and Bucky. 

“I still think about it,” you admitted. 

A steady blue gaze held yours as Bucky’s hand came to rest against your face, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheekbone. Then he leaned in, kissing you like it was the last opportunity he would ever get. 

Leaning in closer to him, he bumped against the kitchen island but managed to hold you closer. You felt his arms wrap around you completely as you kissed him back. 

 A few hours, one burnt cake and plenty of hickeys later, you were standing in your bathroom finishing your make-up whilst also trying to cover up the love bites on your neck. All the while, Bucky had just turned off your shower and in a billow of steam, wrapped a towel, low on his hips, after quickly rubbing his hair dry. 

Bucky stood behind you, moving your hair out of the way. You watched him do so as the mirror began to fog up once more. 

“Buck, you’re still dripping,” you giggle softly, trying to wriggle away from him. But the smile he gave you just knocked you to your knees. 

“Only for you, doll.”

You rolled your eyes and plucked another towel from the rail before throwing it at him. “Dry off.”

He chuckled, drying his hair and neck once more. But as you cleared the mirror again and continued to apply your make-up, Bucky stood behind you and smiled proudly to himself. 

“You owe me some more concealer. I hope you know that.”

In the mirror, you watched him lean down with a breathy chuckle as he pressed light kisses to your exposed shoulder and neck. “Worth it.”

“What are you doing?”

Through his dark lashes, he met your gaze in the mirror. “Missed a spot.”

You melted under his touch. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his kiss as his hands pushed under your top and dipped under the hem of your pants and underwear in order to flush you against his body. 

You moaned a little, feeling him harden against you. “Buck- You’re gonna make me late for work.”

Bucky disagreed. “All you’re doing is filling out case files today. Cases that we’ve finished. They can wait.”

Turning you around quickly, Bucky kissed you until your lipstick was smudged enough to warrant a whole new look, along with fresh sheets for your bed, and some new towels for your bathroom. 

[backinmyphase]

You didn't like the palace of the king of curses.

It wasn't because of the big garden with flowers you have never seen before, it wasn't because of the library with books you could only have dreamed of touching when you still lived in your home village.

It wasn't even the big intimidating king who was always scowling.

"There she is again. The king's new whore."

You didn't like the palace because of the maids who were constantly gossiping.

Every morning at precisely 5 am you were woken up by the sound of your door opening and the almost extra heavy steps of one of the maids. The maid would always start cleaning loudly at that ungodly hour and leave the curtains and door open when they leave. As they clean, they would always ignore you, never acknowledging your whining and groaning.

If it was just the lost sleep you wouldn't think they had something against you. Maybe it was just common here?

Wrong. Very wrong.

It wasn't common to be watched whenever you left your 'chambers'. It wasn't common to be glared at in the hallway. It wasn't common to wake up to torn clothes in your closet. And you really hoped it wasn't common to find tiny shards in your food.

It started with just whispering about you in the first week you were here. But over the last two months you felt the growing dread, growing hate towards you.

After you wore a kimono dress more oftenly, you would find it in shreds the next morning. And every snack that was brought to you was reflecting in different colors when the sun touched them.

Last week Sukuna had ordered you to eat with him. And as you felt their piercing glares you knew they were fuming.

"How do you think he will get rid of her when he gets bored?" Giggling. And of course they didn't care anymore if you heard what they said about you. Because they knew by now you wouldn't run to Sukuna about it.

Why? You didn't know. Maybe it was your sick masochistic pride which refused to ask that man for help. You would never admit it but somewhere deep in you, you didn't want him to see you as weak. Which he probably already did, but that was off the point. You didn't want him to see you scared because of some unspoken threats.

And today would be no different. Even if you could hear them talking about how you must be crazy in bed for their king to be so patient with you. But oh, were they wrong. Truth was, you didn't share anything intimate with the king.

You were just a gift for him from your village, someone he just kept around because he could. Well, that was your theory. Nobody knew what the king was really thinking.

"Oh, he will rip her apart for sure! Or maybe just slice her in two..."

That was enough of that for the day. Like always you skipped the rest of lunch, fleeing with light and quick steps out of that unbearable room. Maybe you had a sick masochistic pride, but even that had its limits.

At times like these you went into the library. They weren't allowed in there. The books there kept you warm and safe, away from the glances and whispers. Books about the world, countries you have never heard before. How could you, if you had never had seen so many books in one place?

Back in your village you would have called all these things meaningless. What about some other place on the other side of the earth? As if it would ever be important for you. But right now? It was nice to focus on something so meaningless. Maybe it was the relaxation. Probably it was the sleep deprivation. Who could blame you for falling asleep between these books?

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

"Wake up." If you were back at your village you would have complained about this kind of waking up. But after the last two months it almost seemed gentle.

"Hmmmm?" you whined while keeping your eyes shut. You just wanted to sleep.

"I said wake up." You groaned while rubbing your eyes and slowly sitting up. Opening them to look into these red ones. Red eyes, crimson red eyes.

Annoyed, Sukuna sat down on the opposite side of the table you had layed your head on. Only now you realized how high the table was built, built specific for him to work on.

"I don't like it to be kept waiting." he leaned back in his chair. "I thought I made it clear to dine with you-"

"It's already dinner time?" you straightened your posture, your right cheek feeling hot from the laying on top of the book. Your eyes still felt heavy but you tried your hardest to keep them open.

"Was. It's already much past it in fact. I had to search for a long time to find you."

You looked outside of one of the big windows in the library, seeing the moon standing high in the nightsky. You rubbed your eyes, while a small yawn escaped. "I'm sorry, my lord, I fell asleep."

He scoffed. "I could see that. What I'm asking myself is why? Aren't you sleeping well?"

And of course you couldn't just keep your mouth shut like you had wanted. No, you scoffed too and narrowed your eyes as you thought about them. "Oh, but of course I do."

There was a tense silence after that, you didn't know what but something shifted in the atmosphere. Sukuna's eyes had suddenly something dark in them. "Elaborate."

You gaped but stayed silent. He didn't question, he demanded an explanation. But there was still your pride.

"Just neck problems, you know." you lowered your gaze onto the books you had read before falling asleep. Why the hell did you read about ants?

"Really?" his voice suddenly seemed so low. "Do you think you need a new sleeping place?"

As you looked at him, Sukuna had that strange glint in his eyes, the atmosphere more tense out of sudden.

"Oh, it's not that bad, don't worry." you muttered quietly, trying to ignore his intense stare.

"Well it's certainly not nothing if you oversleep dinner."

This wasn't going anywhere. You tried to lift your gaze just a bit, trying to see what his expression was, but you were immediately met with his red eyes making you advert your look.

The silence was awkward.

It wasn't like the king and you were constantly talking. Normally there would also be a silence in the room when you would dine. But that silence was different. Then he would be content with just your company, no fancy topics needed.

But right now he demanded an explanation. And you were to stubborn to give him it.

You looked at your book again just hoping he would drop it. Making it a battle of stubbornness, which others would laugh at, but was between the two of you more often than normal.

Hmmm...

Ants don't have ears. Instead of hearing through auditory canals, ants "hear" by feeling vibrations in the ground. Special sensors on their feet and on their knees help ants interpret signals from their surroundings. They also use their antennae and the hairs on their body to feel around while foraging for food.

Who would have known?

"Are you gonna drop the antics and just tell me what's going on?" he was annoyed and probably rightfully so, but you were too deep into it now.

"Don't know what you are talking about."

He let out a small groan and stood up. Making his way around the table to stand behind you. And for the first time since you were picked up from your village he was so close you could feel his warmth. He was leaning down behind you. His voice speaking into your right ear from behind.

"If you want to play this game then so be it. But I always find out. And if you keep sleeping so badly, well..."

You could hear his smirk. "Then I just have to make personally sure you sleep well."

With that he left. Left the room. And left you with a embarrassing warmth in your cheeks and tummy and cool ant facts.

@csolya @neuvilletteswife4ever @unaaasz

Hehe this was sitting in my drafts over six months, sryy (but I finished it on my birthday sooo)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[nad-78]

🕊️ Nadin’s Hope: A Mother, A Memory, A Future

Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.

Then the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home. 25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.

We were displaced twice after that. Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.

But she came into the world quietly and beautifully. And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.

We don’t know what comes next. There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.

🧡 How You Can Help

This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival. To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.

If you can spare anything, it will help us:

Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal

Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none

My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account. Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza. The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 245 shekels — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.

🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me

I want to share more than my need. Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war. They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.

They may not be perfect, but they hold something real: my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. If you can give — thank you. And if you can’t, just sharing this post is a form of support I will never forget.

[sajafamily1]

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

[nadin-89]

🕊️ Nadin’s Hope: A Mother, A Memory, A Future

Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.

Then the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home. 25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.

We were displaced twice after that. Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.

But she came into the world quietly and beautifully. And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.

We don’t know what comes next. There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.

🧡 How You Can Help

This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival. To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.

If you can spare anything, it will help us:

Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal

Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none

My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account. Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza. The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 245 shekels — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.

🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me

I want to share more than my need. Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war. They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.

They may not be perfect, but they hold something real: my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. If you can give — thank you. And if you can’t, just sharing this post is a form of support I will never forget.

[nadinfamily]

🕊️ Nadin’s Hope: A Mother, A Memory, A Future

Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.

Then the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home. 25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.

We were displaced twice after that. Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.

But she came into the world quietly and beautifully. And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.

We don’t know what comes next. There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.

🧡 How You Can Help

This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival. To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.

If you can spare anything, it will help us:

Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal

Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none

My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account. Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza. The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 195 shekels (July 2025) — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.

🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me

I want to share more than my need. Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war. They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.

They may not be perfect, but they hold something real: my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. If you can give — thank you. And if you can’t, just sharing this post is a form of support I will never forget.

[strzxrin]

DAISY BELLS

pairing. yandere!doll x gn!reader

synopsis. you weren’t one to get dolls, always finding them to be creepy despite selling them yourself. so why is it that when you were making a doll, the one on your side keeps blinking at you?

content warnings. gore, horror-esc, yandere tendencies, obsessive behaviours, creator/creation dynamics, cannibalism, stalking, aggressive touching (not by character), blood, death.

word count. 3.5k

it was around two weeks ago.

someone had placed an order in your shop, requesting to make a live sized porcelain doll. it was an odd request, asking for porcelain the size of a human.

the woman who placed the order, she didn’t give her full name; just an initial ‘L.’, she was just as odd. white hair that falls right down her spine, soulless red eyes, a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, and a voice that was meant to portray warmth only gives off the wrong vibes. if anything, she looked more doll-like in comparison to the dolls you produced yourself.

you try not to judge your customers, but it was something about her in general that felt off, yet you couldn’t understand why. regardless, you made her doll according to her specifications.

male, short brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, a leaner body figure, and butler like clothes. you didn’t think too much of it, not when she paid you way more than she should’ve. you had tried to tell her that it was too much, but L believed that it was alright.

so, you worked with her specifications and made sure to produce the highest quality doll to ever be made.

every process was made with love and hardship. you carefully painted his eyes, you made sure the hair would fall in just the right places, you’d hand sewn the garments with proper fabric; as if you were dressing up a human rather than a doll of your creation.

“what a pretty boy, i’ve made” you’d murmur to yourself with every process you’ve done. then it came with his lips, and you’d lean close, making sure to do his details properly before you were finally satisfied with your results.

long fingers that was sculpted to be delicate, a proportionate body, and some light in his eyes. he was beautiful, and you can’t help but be proud of yourself for being able to make such a masterpiece.

and L? she was satisfied with the results. she tells you that he’s everything she ever dreamed of. the final touches she wished for you to add, was a name seared right at his nape.

“i believe.. neo, would suit such a fitting doll, don’t you think?” she says with a smile, one that made shivers run down your spine but you had no choice to nod. you branded his name at his nape and then gifted him to her.

she left that day, and you didn’t think you would see her again any time soon. unless it had to do with repairs but you did advise her to be careful with him, he is made out of porcelain after all.

but two weeks later, she contacted the shop again, saying that she had accidentally broken him and wanted to bring neo back to the store for repairs. you accepted of course. it was your job after all.

when she came into the store with neo in her hands, you’d give her a friendly smile and she would smile back, leaving neo in your arms. except before she left, she gave you so much money on the counter. “i decided that you can keep him instead. he’s a very beautiful doll, better made to be displayed here”

your eyes had widened at the amount of cash that was on your table, but even more so, you were confused and was about to protest only to see her disappear.

“what?” you just murmured to yourself and looked at the doll in your arms now. his cheek is cracked; leaving a huge hole that you needed to fix, and his arms had some weird markings to it. in the end, you sighed and began fixing him.

however the moment your fingers touched one of the edges of the crack while you were inserting a new porcelain piece, you accidentally cut your finger. you hissed in pain for a moment “fuck,” murmuring slightly as you went to grab a tissue to wipe off the blood from his face.

but the moment you touched his newly fixed cheek, you could’ve sworn that his porcelain skin felt human. you blinked at sensation and pulled away “what the fuck..?” there’s no way that your doll became human, right?

you touched his cheek once more and it was back to porcelain and you sighed. “nevermind. i think i just need to sleep more” you shook your head, pulling yourself away from him. you stared at him for a little while, but you swear that his eyes were looking right into your soul.

“nah.. my doll can’t be haunted right?” you murmured, lightly smacking your cheeks to recollect yourself before sighing. you needed to close up shop anyway, so you started to pack your things, your back facing neo.

and while you were busy, he blinked and a small smile appeared on his lips before he schooled his expression and went back to being stagnant when you looked.

you closed off the lights and locked the shop before heading back home, but you just can’t shake off the feeling that someone or something was watching your back the entire time.

you’ll find out soon enough, that perhaps you should’ve never accepted the commission by L.

｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡

he was conscious. he’s been conscious for a while now. his memories contained the one who brought him to this world, a lady with white hair and red eyes that stares deep into his.

she only smiles, humming and he hears her saying “it’s time for you to reunite with your true family.” he didn’t know what she meant but deep down he knew that this wasn’t his real home.

so she told him to behave, to stay still until the time is right, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no. he didn’t have a voice yet, nor could he move properly. he was conscious in his body but he couldn’t articulate and that frustrated him.

however, when he was brought back to the shop, he finally saw you. and undeniable pull between the both of you and he realised, you were his creator, his master, the one he needed to devote his life entirely to serve you.

he knows that the lady had left the store but all he could focus on was you. just you. you looked conflicted and his heart burned when he saw that expression. did you not want him here? but you made him! you should need him as much as he needs you.

he watches you with his soulless eyes for a moment, admiring every feature that you have before he felt the trickle of your blood on his skin and he felt something else in his body. as if he was real.

the memories of you making him started to flood in, how you took days into making him, the smile on your lips when you put details on his skin, your soft voice calling him a pretty boy only made his chest thump.

L had given him a heart, and with that heart, it solely beats for you. the moment you touched his skin, he felt alive, he wanted to hold you more and to lean into your touch and hear your heartbeat.

he kept looking at you, hearing your words and how much he’d like to lick off the blood from your fingers just so that you’d be alright. he wonders how his voice would be now that he’s sentient. but he won’t try it now. he’ll do it next time.

he watches you, he sees you packing up and his fingers twitched, wanting to keep you here with him. he doesn’t want to be alone, he wants to be wherever you are. he hates it, he can’t stand being apart from you. don’t leave him.

but his intentions were left unnoticed as you closed the lights and locked the shop close. he turns his body and just watches you leave, and he longs to have you back in his arms once more.

still, he used this opportunity to articulate his body, get used to the medium he’s in. he focuses on his surroundings properly now that he’s not focused on you and he felt a pit in his stomach.

there were so many other dolls in the shop. he didn’t like it. that means they all have fondness over you too. he started to walk, he learned how to use his fingers and he grabbed one of the dolls to look at it.

then he smiles. it was a gentle smile, and eerie smile, and he realises that he is the only one that is sentient. you love him the most, that’s why he’s conscious now. L may be the reason why he’s here, but he heard her say that the reason for his existence and why he’s so compatible with life is because of you.

you placed your blood, sweat, and tears when making him. and he was the product of perfection. therefore he’ll be your most important person in your life, he’ll mold himself into your ideal boyfriend, and he’ll have you all to himself.

｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡

when you entered the shop today, you see neo sitting in the same spot you placed him. but why are the other dolls misplaced? you shook your head, trying not to think too much about it since it could be you misplaced them the day before.

you started to organise everyone before sitting at your work bench to make a new doll. you had came up with a new design this time, so you wanted to work it out. while you were working, you had played some videos to have noise in the background but also just to keep you company.

“woah,” you murmured when a new character came on screen, the voice of the character is what drew you in and you blinked “he sounds exactly like my type,” you hummed softly to yourself, shrugging as you went back to painting the doll’s face.

you felt stares at the back of your head again and you shuddered at the feeling, turning around to just see neo watching you. you stopped what you were doing and got up, going up to him and turning his body around so that you don’t get the creeps.

you went back to work for a while before hearing some shifting and you swore that you’re the only one who’s running this shop. who’s in this building. so why do you hear noises outside of your phone?

you turned around, only to see neo almost falling off the counter and you got worried that he was going to fall and shatter again. so you quickly run to him to stop him from falling.

“you’re prone to breaking,” you murmured, scolding the doll that you thought wasn’t sentient. you sighed softly, picking him up. and there was that feeling again, the feeling of a human skin on a supposedly porcelain body.

you decided to make him sit next to you while you worked. at the very least, you could keep an eye on him while you did your job. when you checked the time, you realised you needed to get food for lunch, making you get up from your seat.

you looked over at neo before patting his head. “watch over the shop while i’m gone, yeah?” you murmured to him, giving him a small smile as you went out to get lunch.

while you did so, you couldn’t help but feel you were being watched again, but when you turned around, no one was there. “fucking creepy” you shuddered to yourself, shaking your head and hoped that nothing will happen.

you didn’t know it of course, but neo was following you spiritually. watching and making sure you’ll come back to the store safe. he wanted to be next to you physically but you told him to watch the shop, and he is a good boy. he’ll do anything you ask him to, anything but leaving you.

when you came back, you realised someone was standing at the door and waiting for you to reopen. you had to mentally sigh. it was jax.

you wouldn’t say he’s a patron because he never buys any of your dolls, but he does bring customers to you from time to time. but that isn’t the reason why you dislike him. no, it was because he’s a leech who doesn’t know when to back off. you were uncomfortable by his unnecessary touches and comments, you didn’t want to see him today when you had just brought back lunch from the nearest convenience store.

“( name )!” his voice in itself was aggravating. you wanted to punch him but he was the reason to why you’re still in business. you sighed and nodded. “jax,” you murmured and opened the door to which he strode inside with such confidence.

“i can’t believe you still make creepy dolls,” he commented while you hummed and went behind the counter. you looked at neo and smiled softly “thank you for watching over the shop” you murmured but jax saw that scene and snorted.

“and now you’re talking to dolls too? you’ve gone insane” he chuckled with his sleazy voice. “well it’s fine, i dig hotties with a hint of quirkiness” you wanted to gag, and punch him at the same time.

“what are you doing here, jax?” you asked gruffly, not wanting him to linger any longer. you finally looked at him and he gave you a sneer before grabbing your chin forcefully “jax, what the fuck, let go of me!” you try to push him away but he didn’t let go.

“you’ve been denying me of my date for too long ( name ). i’m growing impatient.” “god fuck off, jax! i’m not interested in you, for fucks sake” you try to fight him off but he was so insistent and you felt a lingering fear. you hoped, you prayed that nothing bad would happen to you.

and thankfully, you were saved by L. she had grabbed his hand and pushed him away. she gives you a smile. “continue on with your lunch break ( name ). i’ll come back in later for a commission” she tells you before dragging jax away.

you were stunlocked for a moment but you try not to think about it. your eyes went back to neo. “ah.. i’m sorry you had to see that” you patted his head. you didn’t know why you were talking to your doll. you’ve never really done it before, but you just felt like it was obligated.

maybe because you formed a bond with him during his creation process that you can’t help but feel guilty when he sees you being tossed around like this. you sat back down at your work table and looked at him with a sad smile.

“your creator is a real coward, aren’t they?” you murmured softly before clenching your fists and sighed. “i swear, jax that fucking creep. can’t he just take a no for an answer? man, i hope some diabolical shit happens to him.” you complained softly before returning back to your work.

you should really be careful with your words, you have the power to change things soon after all.

｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡

when you closed the shop that night and went to bed, neo stayed there carefully until he finally got up. jax, was it? clearly he didn’t know how to be a gentleman around you. this is why he hates humans after all.

he walks the streets late at night, L had given him the directions to where he was kept and he followed. it was as if he knew the streets very well, and in a sense, since his soul is now connected to yours, he does. he went into a back alleyway, seeing jax slowly waking up from being passed out.

“what the fuck” jax murmured, his eyes coming into focus at the figure in front of him “w-what the hell? aren’t you that fucking doll—“ he was immediately silenced when neo shoved something directly into his mouth.

“you bothered my master.. you made them uncomfortable” neo murmured, his voice hoarse as if he’s not used to the tone of it yet. it’s fine, he’ll have his way soon. neo crouched down, looking directly in his eyes “my summoner says that there’s a way for me to become more human.”

he was talking to himself since jax can’t respond, nor does he want to hear his voice responding to him anyhow. his jaw unhinged for a moment, it was uncannily wide as he ripped jax’s arm with no strength.

jax tried to scream but his voice wasn’t letting him. he thrashed in pain, tears welling up in his eyes at this monster of a doll. could he even be considered as a doll? not with the way his eyes reminded him of a demon.

“such a weak human. and you thought you could score a date with them in this state? pathetic.” he murmured, taking a bite of his flesh. he can’t taste anything. but he supposes that’s how it all begins, shouldn’t it?

the moment neo finished up the arm, he noticed that jax had crawled away and he scoffed. “no running away, coward.” he murmured and he appeared right in front of jax. he ripped off his legs next, watching more tears leave the man’s eyes as he sobbed, silently begging for mercy.

“my master told you to stop, told you no so many times but you ignored them. so why should i listen to you?” he asks, making direct eye contact with him while he eats his legs. he continued this process until all his limbs were eaten off and the man was dead from the loss of blood.

“stupid humans.” neo murmured before he started his full meal. he ate every single thing from jax’s body. his organs, his cheeks, eyes, brain, and even the skull. he made sure that he left no traces behind before his jaw hinges back together and he was back to the pretty neo that you made him.

“congratulations on eating your first human, neo” he hears the familiar voice of his summoner. he looked up, wiping the blood off his cheek as she stared deep into his soul. “keep eating humans and you’ll become the perfect imitation of one. wouldn’t you like that? to be by their side all the time?”

he went docile. yes. this was what he was made to do. become human to be by your side. to hear you laugh and giggle, to be your type and be your boyfriend. he wants to have you, all of you.

he’ll just begin by eating those who wronged you. and to know that, he should know who exactly he should target.

he got up from his spot, beginning to walk down the streets aimlessly as L watches him move. “such a fine specimen. he’ll be perfect for you, ( name )..” she muttered out and disappeared.

as he walked, he approached a house with a very similar presence. he looked up, and he knows deep within his gut that it’s your house. yes.. yes he’ll have you soon. and then he can convince you to keep being by his side.

he broke into your house easily, looking at the pictures on the walls and seeing you smiling and laughing with the people in the pictures. he hates it. he hates it so much. he wants to make you laugh. no one else should make you laugh.

but he doesn’t want to see you cry. so, he’ll find someone else. he’ll find someone else to eat and he’ll become human for you once and for all.

｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡

you woke up the next morning, disoriented from what happened the day before. you left your room after washing your face but as you stepped into the living room you just see neo on the couch.

you blinked. “neo?” you murmured. since when did you bring him back to your home? was it yesterday? maybe because you found some comfort with neo after jax’s scene that you decided to bring him home.

you shook your head and went to the doll, patting his head. “you protected me well last night, didn’t you?” you smiled, not expecting a response. but neo’s hair felt real, not made out of the synthetic fibres you used.

and that’s when neo leaned into your touch. you jolted a bit. did neo just move? surely not? you looked at his positioning properly and sees that his body was already leaning towards you and you sighed out of relief.

“y-yeah.. there’s no way neo is sentient, he’s a doll” you murmured to yourself. you pulled your hand away from his hair hesitantly and went towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

however his eyes was facing your back and he was admiring you. so this is how you looked like every morning. it was a good idea to modify a bit of your memory while you were asleep. because now he can live with you permanently.

he’ll just have to find a way to reveal himself sooner or later. but that’s a problem for a future him, isn’t it?

[nadinfamily-20]

🕊️ Nadin’s Hope: A Mother, A Memory, A Future

Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.

Then the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home. 25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.

We were displaced twice after that. Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.

But she came into the world quietly and beautifully. And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.

We don’t know what comes next. There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.

🧡 How You Can Help

This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival. To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.

If you can spare anything, it will help us:

Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal

Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none

My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account. Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza. The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 245 shekels — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.

🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me

I want to share more than my need. Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war. They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.

They may not be perfect, but they hold something real: my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. If you can give — thank you. And if you can’t, just sharing this post is a form of support I will never forget.

[kamiversee]

Big ruby shaded eyes, matching that of her father’s, have this adorable thin layer of gloss over them as she pleads with her parent for the millionth time.

“Daddy pwease?” She has the cutest little pout on her face, one that’s worked on her mother time and time again that’s sure to work on her father too—

“No.” Sukuna says yet again.

The child is tired of asking and receiving that same answer over and over. She doesn’t understand one bit why but she hates hearing that word. Folding her arms, she lets out an annoyed puff, “Mommy would never tell me no…”

One statement and there’s already another vein bulging in the right corner of Sukuna Ryomen’s forehead. “Go away, brat.” He breathes out in an overly irritated tone.

The child, unable to take no for an answer and more like her father than she even realizes, takes her foot and brings it down on the curse’s foot in frustration.

If he wasn’t ticked off before, he damn sure is now. “You little—“

“Sukuna,” And there it is, the voice of the sole human in this reality who could ever even dream of cutting the king of curses off mid-sentence. Not only is it you, the mother of his overly insolent child, but you have the nerve to give him that scolding tone he hates (loves).

He scowls for a long moment before looking down to the smaller human who carries more of your features than his. “Fine, child.” Sukuna drawls out after a long roll of his many eyes.

Then, with a big smile plastered all over her small face, her hands are shooting up and she’s making a grab motion with her hands.

Sukuna stares down at her and sighs, “You really are a spoiled brat, y’know…” He grumps while leaning down to pick his daughter up with one out of his two pairs of hands. “…Just like your damn mother.”

The child’s smile fades for a moment and she tilts her head, “Damn?” She repeats in a confused tone, making Sukuna’s heart spike.

“Wait-, don’t… don’t say that.” He’s been down this road one two many times—having taught the child how to say ‘fuck’ the moment she began spewing words. He received an earful from you that he didn’t care for so, here he is now, “That’s a bad word.”

His daughter blinks, “But, Daddy said it.”

Sukuna groans lowly in irritation, “Daddy can say whatever the hell he wants.”

“Hell?” Oh she had to be doing this on purpose, knowing her mother was only a room away.

“Child.” The curse scolds, “Are you trying to irritate me?”

She shrugs playfully, “This is what you get for telling me no.”

“You asked me if you could draw on my face.” He deadpans.

“And you should’ve said yes,” You suddenly chime in, entering the room, “Instead of teaching her more curse words.”

The little girl snickers in Sukuna’s arms and he swears he has an image of the child being flung across the room for just a moment. That image is interrupted by the girl speaking again.

“Like fuck?” She says loud and clear. “I heard Daddy say it again earlier today—“

A big hand goes over her mouth (practically her entire face) and she’s cut off by her father who’s innocently smiling at you, his darling wife.

“Ignore her. I was just about to let her draw on my face so,” He glances down at his daughter who’s giggling victoriously beneath his palm and then sighs, “If you’ll excuse us.”

You’re left smiling at the two as Sukuna turns away with his daughter and exits the room—the sound of them bickering as soon as they’re out of sight heard moments later.

And the next time you lay eyes on the two, Sukuna’s got a face full of stickers and marker and his little mini-me has a mocking face full of her father’s markings. To which you just had to take a million and one pictures of.

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[thecherrypittttttt]

II HANDS II HEAVEN; dr jack abbot x dr!reader

words: 5,800+

content warnings: lowkey SO filthy, but also SO cute, banter, caretaker jack, yearning jack, tad bit angsty, patient does die at some point, may be my favorite one i have written

notes: because dr jack abbot has two hands and boy does he know how to use them

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Have you two kissed and made up yet?” Bridget asks, eyeing them.

“In his dreams.”

“In his dreams.” Jack imitates mockingly, high pitched.

“You know, for an old man, you have a lot of growing up to do.”

She can tell by the amused look dancing on Jack’s face that he is about to imitate her words again.

She raises a finger just as his mouth opens, “Don’t-“ she presses her finger to his chest, “you dare.”

His head tilts down. His gaze follows her finger, falling right into her trap. She quickly trails her nail back up over his chin then his lips and finally, flicking him in the nose.

She is cracking up laughing. Bridget is too. And Jack is pretending to be annoyed. “Oh and I’m the one who needs to grow up?!”

“You guys need to get a room. Preferably Trauma 1 because we have a patient incoming.” Bridget shoos them away from her nurses station, a grin still playing on her lips as she shoves two gowns into Jack’s outstretched hands.

Once inside Trauma 1, Jack grabs her arm. He signals for her to lift them as he reaches around her - her back to his front, he ties the gauze gown around her waist and then goes for the tie around her neck. The one they normally never have time to tie anyways.

“You know I love it when you dress up for me.”

His minty breath tickles the back of her neck as he speaks. He can’t see her roll her eyes but he knows that she is. He knows her like the back of his hand.

“And you know I’m still mad at you.”

“Well if you would listen to me for once in your life-“

“You are not my boss anymore. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Oh, because you listened so well when I was your boss, hm?”

“I can finish tying my gown. Your hands are full.”

“I’ve got two hands.”

And just like that it's decided and he's finishing up tying her gown. They have no reason to be this close to each other anymore but neither of them moves a muscle. He reaches around her to grab a pair of gloves and he takes his sweet time while doing so.

She sneaks a glance at the prominent veins in his forearms and wishes she didn’t. Why does he always have to look so damn good?

The doors are slammed open by a gurney. “Showtime.” is all that tumbles out from her mouth before her and Jack are back in their usual rhythm.

Or their somewhat usual rhythm. In the trauma bay, residents typically stood at the head of the bed. Their main responsibility was keeping the patient’s vitals steady. Protecting the precious breath that told everyone else in the room that the patient still had a fighting chance.

Ever since she became the night shift's second attending six months ago, Jack and her were still getting used to sharing opposite sides of the bed. Jack was used to looking up from the patient and her eyes already being on him, silently asking him for direction. Now, it’s like she forgot he was even in the room.

Unless, of course, they were debating their differing opinions on the standard of care for the patient.

So yeah, maybe Jack had been picking a few unnecessary fights here and there just to get something from her. He never said it was healthy but he didn’t know what else to do.

He missed her. He missed guiding her hand through a procedure and the way she would look back at him with an expectant smile, waiting for his praise. Practically needing it.

He always gave it to her. Usually sticking with “Well done” or “Solid work” because the one time he went to say “Good job”, a “Good girl” slipped halfway out instead. Thank god no one had noticed.

It makes him sound like an ego maniac, and he promises he isn’t, but he relishes in that feeling of her needing him. Or at least thinking she did. Of the fact that the smartest most competent doctor the halls of this ED had potentially ever seen, looked to him for guidance.

He wanted to take care of her - beyond work. He'd come to terms with his crush years ago but also came to terms with the fact he could never have her. At the time he was her attending and even now that he isn't - he is still at least 12 years her senior and carries more than enough baggage for the both of them.

So he settled for taking care of her at work. Sometimes he pushed the boundaries with the praise and the extra teas but he took care of her within the appropriate context of their working relationship. Until now, apparently. Now that she wouldn’t let him.

Jack had been spoiled all these years. Pouring his knowledge into residents, and a lot of them were great, but none of them had ever quite surpassed what he could do in the ED. But now here she was, mopping the floor with him. He’s proud of her. And he would love it even more than he already does if she would just pay an ounce of attention to him. God, he was starting to sound pathetic.

After her first six months of residency, Robby transferred her to the night shift. He told Jack he was getting a good one. One who saw every single patient as a person rather than a box to be checked, even on the bad days. One who probably single handedly kept the patient satisfaction scores of the ED afloat. But that came at a price - it slowed her down. Impeded on her education. She needed to move quicker and Jack was the kind of teacher to teach her how to do just that while still maintaining her inquisitively kind nature.

She was a damn good doctor but Robby knew that under Jack’s watchful eye and baptism by fire teaching style - she could be great. And she was great.

She is great. So far beyond great, Jack catches himself watching her in awe most nights. But right now he was watching her with concern.

The young girl on the table beneath them was not going to make it.

She was normally better than him at this, less emotional, about knowing when to call it.

But he knew why she wasn't going to be right now. The patient on their table looked eerily like her little sister that she had lost to the same kind of drunk driving accident when she was a kid.

The older sister was even out in the family waiting room - holding her sister’s favorite stuffed animal. She had said she was holding on to it while her sister got better. To keep it warm for her.

It was a bright pink stuffed rabbit. The same kind she had clutched the night her sister died. That she never was able to return to her sister. Jack knew he was the only one in the ED that knew that. She’d told him so one night on the roof after a particularly bad shift. What Jack didn’t know was that he was the only person she’d ever told.

They had a way of bringing that out in each other. Neither of them pushed and that’s probably why they could so effortlessly pull stuff out. Neither of them were an open book to anyone but each other. He makes her feel understood. She makes him feel safe. They make eachother feel the most themselves they’ve ever felt.

But right now all he was making her feel was anger.

“Call it.”

“There was just a pulse a second ago.” They both knew there hadn’t been. Jack doesn't say it though.

She had taken compressions over from Whitaker. Wanting to do this one herself. Making it worse on herself.

“Call it.”

“She can still make it. Let me try one more time.”

Jack silently signaled for everyone else to leave the room and move onto their next call. The girl was gone. At least they could all try and replace this horrible memory by hopefully being able to save the next one.

“I said - call it.” Jack’s voice was low but still steady. Still calm. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight this time. He just wanted her to free herself of this burden that was not hers to carry.

“And I said, let me try one-“ compression “more” another compression, “time” compression.

So he let her. Not because he thought it would work. Precisely, the opposite actually. He knew she would never forgive herself if she didn’t feel that she gave every last ounce she had. Selfishly, he also knew she’d never forgive him for calling it earlier than she thought they should have.

One more compression and then a flat line on the monitor.

Beyond the occasional puff of air coming from her mouth as she caught her breath, you could hear a pin drop in the trauma bay.

Jack’s behind her again, gently untying her now bloody gauze gown. She turns to him. As much as they’ve been going at it lately, he is who she wants in these moments. In all the moments, really.

He slides off his gloves and then her own, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

His hands move to her shoulders and then slowly drag down to her triceps - steadying her and studying her. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. Just delicately searches her eyes with his own. Asks her if she’s okay and then assures her it’s going to be okay - all without even opening his mouth.

She tries to keep the tears in with deep breaths. Her palm pressing against her forehead.

“Time of death-“ She inhales shakily, “04:44.” She slaps her palm over her mouth like she just summoned death itself with her words. Then the dam breaks.

“Jack, I can’t-“ She barely gets out between hiccups.

“Shhhhh - I know. I will.” Tell the family is what she means. He’ll do that for her. He’d do anything for her.

And then he’s reaching his hands to cup her face and pulling her against him. Letting her cry it out against his chest.

Her arms wrap around his middle, squeezing so hard it was almost like she thought he’d disappear if she loosened her grip. He rubs up and down her back with one hand, cradling her head in his other and pressing the occasional kiss to her temple.

He whispers into her hair, “You are the best emergency physician I have ever seen. If you couldn't save her, no one could. If the person I cared about most in the world had to be in a trauma bay - you are who I would want to be in charge of it.”

That catches her off guard. They spend a lot of time together. More time together than with any of their family or friends or any potential partner. They talked a lot. About basically everything but that private part of their lives. She always assumed it was because neither of them really had much to report back on but his words are the first time she lets her mind think otherwise. That he may have someone that isn’t her. The thought terrifies her beyond belief.

Technically, they were single. They weren’t each other's. But - yes they were.

“Who is that?”

“What?”

“That you care about most in the entire world?”

Jack wasn’t even sure when it happened. Probably in between the dates on the rooftop that were probably only dates to him and the early morning carpools when he purposely took the long way home just to spend more time with her.

He takes a sharp inhale and blinks. Hard - like he’s just realizing now what his answer is. Like it always felt so natural that he never had to think too hard about it, “You.”

They’re both frozen and then she’s huffing a nervous laugh and pulling out of his grip. Avoiding his eye contact. Back to ignoring him. Back to pushing him away.

“Very funny.” She quips as she walks to the door, pretending to be engrossed in attempting to fix the hand sanitizer dispenser that’s been jammed for the last four months.

Jack stays in place like the soldier he is, “I’m serious.”

That brings her gaze back to his. Her jaw drops slightly, her pupils dilated. He thinks he sees hope in her eyes. The observation gives him some too.

He thinks he’s caught her off guard but what she says next practically knocks the wind out of him, “Me too.”

“What?”

“The person I care most about in the entire world. It’s you, Jack.” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she’s pushing out of the room.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They don’t talk again for the rest of their shift. Not really, anyways. The ED is absolutely slammed. They’re basically running from trauma bay to trauma bay, room to room - even once to the ambulance bay. That’s how you know it’s busy.

But wow do they make a fucking phenomenal team. When they are on, they are on. They were close, but they didn't lose anyone else that night.

They catch their breath at the lockers, after the hand off with the day shift.

Jack wraps an arm around her head, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Go home. I’ll order Thai food to your place. Watch that trash TV you like. Shower. Cry. Cry in the shower. Sleep. Just know you gave everything you had tonight. Do not beat yourself up over this.”

“I don’t think the other people at the gym would appreciate me crying in the showers.”

“Why are you showering at the gym?”

“My apartment building has the water turned off for the day. I don’t know - they are fixing something. And there is no shot in hell I am showering here.”

“Come on. You’re coming home with me. Shower at my place. I’ll cook us breakfast while you do so you can cry in peace.”

The silence hangs between them. An expectant silence but one that says that if they are alone in a place that isn't the hospital - it is going to be damn near impossible to remain professional.

“Jack-“

“Let me take care of you, please. You deserve it, especially after tonight.”

And for once, she listens.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jack busies himself with the omelettes and tea he’s making because if he thinks too hard, or at all, about her naked in his shower - he is going to combust.

The thought of her fully clothed in his space is enough to do his head in. He cannot even begin to let his brain broach the thought of her naked one floor away.

He is setting her favorite hot sauce, the one he hates but always kept in his fridge in case this moment ever happened, on the counter when he hears the water being turned off upstairs.

A couple light footsteps, the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and then his name. "Jack, where is your lotion?!"

"It's in the cabinet up top - furthest to your right." He yells back. Normally he would go up there and just grab it for her but he only has so much self control. It will all probably go down the gutter if he goes up there and sees her in only a towel.

"I can't reach it."

He curses under his breath and heads up the stairs - two at a time. He is not religious but he is praying to whoever will listen that she is wearing some semblance of the clothes he laid out for her. Now that he thinks about it, that might be worse.

Either way, he is in trouble. He stops outside his bathroom door and knocks lightly, " Can I come in?"

"No, I'd like you to get the lotion down from outside the bathroom." She sasses.

He smirks as he turns the knob, muttering something about her being a smart ass and a pain in his ass. He swallows hard at the sight of her.

She looks stunning because when does she not. He traces her collarbones with his eyes, down her arms, and over her legs - finally up to her face. Her eyebrow is lifted and a coy smirk on her face. Oh, she knows exactly what she is doing.

Jack shakes his head, as if that would get the thoughts of what is hiding under her towel out of his head.

He just clears his throat and reaches up to the cabinet, settling the lotion onto the counter, "Here."

She doesn't even pretend to grab it. Just lets it sit in between the sinks. In between them.

“Thank you - for today. I’m sorry, I’ve been a little bratty lately. I just had to prove to myself I could do things without having you in the room to encourage me to.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. I should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much I would have to get used to you not needing me anymore.”

“I may not need you anymore but I still want you, Jack. I always will. But I probably haven’t shown that too well the past couple months so I’ll cool it with the attitude. I know you’re always just trying to help.”

“You don’t have to do anything on my account.” A beat and then, “It’s hot when you talk back.”

If Jack could shove those words back into his mouth - he would. He doesn't know what came over him, why those words came out - maybe something to do with the way she is staring at him. Eyes half lidded as she looks up at him through her lashes, a subtle grin as she bites her plump bottom limp.

"I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate."

“Jack-“

"We can just pretend I nev-"

She places a hand on his chest to interrupt his rambling and he pauses almost instantaneously, “Jack - I talk back because I think it’s hot when you put me in my place.”

Oh.

He looks down at her and lets out a low whistle, “You have no idea how bad I want you. How bad I’ve wanted this since the day you walked through the doors at the Pitt but I will not take advantage of you.”

His hands stay firmly planted to his sides but gosh she's making it really hard to keep still.

“Not even if I beg?”

He takes a sharp inhale, rubbing the back of his neck and then over his face with his palm, “You had a bad night. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret just because you’re upset”

“Jack, do you remember my first night shift? As an intern?”

“Yeah, of course. Knew I was in trouble from the jump.” He talks faster than she has ever heard him. She can tell he is a bit confused. What does her first intern shift have anything to do with why she is half naked in his bathroom almost four years later?

“That morning, when I went home, I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands off me. I’ve been upset a lot over the years. I’ve been ecstatic, I’ve been angry beyond belief and every other emotion in between. But the one thing that’s always stayed the same is that at the end of every day, I wished I was coming home to you. I'm not going to regret this because I love you, Jack. No matter what kind of day I have. Good, bad, or ugly - you are always the best part of it."

“God, I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that.” His hands fly to cup her jaw, he looks right in her eyes before he kisses her with everything in him. He pulls away barely, his forehead resting on hers, to whisper, “I love you. So much.”

"Can you show me - because I didn't call you up here in just my towel to chit chat."

Jack chuckles, his hands find her hips. He gives them a squeeze before he turns her around to face his bathroom mirror. They lock eyes through the glass and for the second time today, her back was to his front.

“What would everyone say if they heard you were such a slut for me.”

“Probably, ‘In his dreams’”

“Behave.” She can feel Jack smirking into the skin on her neck as he kisses her there. Long and slow - she whimpers at the feeling.

“I’ll think about it.” Her voice comes out shaky - clearly reflecting the effect he is having on her.

All in one swift motion, Jack unties and drops her towel, lightly smacking her ass.

“I said behave.”

She goes to roll her eyes. Not because she doesn't like what he is doing - because she loves it. Absolutely loves riling him up. But he knows her and he knows she's going to do that so before she even can, he smacks her ass again, murmuring a “So fucking perfect” as he rubs the red mark he left.

“Show me you can listen and I’ll be a lot nicer, angel.

All she can do is let out a whimper of his name. It is music to his ears.

Jack trails kisses up her neck then pecks one to her mouth before he’s grabbing her chin. They make eye contact through the mirror, one of his hands on her chin and the other splayed dangerously low pressing against her stomach.

He swipes his thumb against her lips as he whispers in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek and she can’t help but imagine how it will feel between her thighs. “Let’s put that mouth to better use, huh?”

He swipes two fingers through her glistening folds. He can hear how wet she is. Feel it threatening to drip down her thighs. She moans at the emptiness - his fingers leave her and press their way into her mouth. His fingers weigh heavy against her tongue as her lips close around them, sucking, but never losing his eye contact. Jack groans at the sight.

“Taste yourself for me, baby. Look at how pretty your mouth is when you aren’t giving me attitude.”

Her knees are already threatening to give out and he’s barely even touched her yet. Anyone else wouldn’t notice the slight wobble. But he did. He notices every little detail about her - how could he not?

“You like it that much, hm sweetheart?”

She can’t manage words. Only a low moan and a nod as she presses her back against his front, feeling his bulge through the sweatpants he’d changed into when they’d gotten home. “Jack please, I want to see you. I want to feel you.”

“Greedy, yeah?”

“Jack, please. Too many clothes.”

“Shhh - I told you I was gonna take care of you tonight, yeah? Let me baby. Then you can have me. Be patient.”

Another moan pulled from her.

“You’re the most stunning woman I have ever laid my eyes on, you know that right? And so damn smart. My smart baby, yeah?"

She turns to face him, running her hands over his chest and then down his biceps as he talks. She takes her time. She’s trailed the veins of his large arm muscles with her eyes more times than she can count. Now that she gets to do it with her hands, she may never stop.

She gets to his hands, god those hands. His capable, strong, sturdy hands. She remembers what he said earlier today, about having two hands, and she feels her cheeks tinge pink. She’s seen his hands perform extraordinary miracles but she has a feeling the one he performs on her now will be her favorite.

His hands knead her hips as she goes, both of them relishing in each other's touch, until she breaks the silence. Her wide eyes look up at him. They look so innocent. Her words are anything but, “I want you to fill me up.”

“Fuck me. You’re gonna kill me.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come when I tell you to?”

“Dr Abbot, I’m always a good girl for you. Especially that night you almost called me one right in the middle of the ED.”

Jack is shocked, “You caught that?”

“Touched myself thinking about it that night.”

He practically moans, “My god.” before he turns her back around to face the mirror. One hand on the back of her neck, the other on the small of her back, slightly bending her over.

Finally, finally he presses two fingers into her. Her head falls back onto his shoulder as he pumps in and out of her, both of their breathing heavy.

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet.”

“For you? Always.”

He kisses her forehead then tilts her head back up by her chin with his free hand.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me baby.”

His fingers are still working on her. She’s almost there. Gasping for air. Her eyes shut and she's right there until...she's not. He's stopped.

Her eyes flutter open and she doesn't even bother to turn around - just stares at him through the mirror, "What the hell?"

“I said keep your eyes open. I want you to see how good you look taking my fingers, angel. Gonna look even better on my cock”

At the reminder, she buck backs against him.

“Not so fast, baby. Gonna make you come on my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then fill you up. How does that sound?”

“Yes, Jack, please. I need it please.”

“You sure you can handle it, baby?”

“I can-fuck, I can handle it.”

Then he’s working her again with his fingers. She keeps her eyes open, drinking in the filthy sight of them. One of his hands cradling her chin as she rides the other one - she is completely naked and Jack is entirely clothed. It makes her so worked up, her orgasm comes quickly.

“That’s it. Good girl—that's my good fucking girl."

Then he’s stepping around her and sinking to his knees in front of her so she can still see herself in the bathroom mirror. He knocks her ankles a little wider. They’d closed a bit after the last orgasm and she gasps at his tongue cleaning up her first mess and going for a second.

His hands wrap around her thighs, holding her in place. She tugs hard at his salt and pepper curls as she unravels. She looks down at him, craving his eye contact.

He slaps her ass again as a reprimand, “Eyes up. I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me."

The words make her second orgasm tumble out just as fast as the first and she’s pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, placing a blistering kiss on his lips. His hands cradle her jaw and then they are in her hair, tugging slightly.

Their hands desperately clutch at one another as they kiss, gasping into each other’s mouths as if they’ve been starved of one another.

“Jack - clothes off. Now please.”

This time he listens. Then he is back behind her just as quickly as he’s coaxing his length into her. They both sigh at the relief.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Give me one more, yeah?”

He presses his forehead to hers. She nods and he leans up to kiss her temple again before rutting into her. Both of them loudly moaning at the sensation.

“Holy shit. And I thought nothing was gonna beat how fucking delicious you tasted. You feel like fucking heaven, angel.”

His broad hand crowds her neck, forcing her gaze to meet him in the mirror again as his fingers find her clit as he pounds into her from behind. Not too slow, not too fast but intentional - hitting all the right places because although they’ve never done this before he just knows. He knows her.

“Look at how pretty you look taking me.”

“Jack-“ she can’t get the sentence out. She trails off into a string of whimpers and moans as she verges on her third orgasm of the morning. She squeezes her walls around Jack and he grunts, he’s close too.

“So this is all I’ve got to do to get you to listen to me, huh? Why didn’t you just say so baby?”

“Jack-“

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He barely manages to get out.

“Can I come for you?”

At that alone she feels him spilling into her, “Yes baby. Oh my god, yes.” he falters, caging his arms around her, steadying them against the counter as they both ride out their highs.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me too- told you to start listening to me.”

“You’re filthy.”

“And you fucking love it.” Jack smirks as he uses one hand to wipe her clean with a warm washcloth, the other hand holds her head against his lips. He presses a kiss to her temple then her lips and then up and down her shoulder and neck until she is a giggling, blushing mess.

Jack picks up his shirt he had laid out for her but leaves the pants. She lets him tug it over her head and hugs him tight when he's done. Arms around his middle, just as she had done earlier. He dips his lips to the crown of her head, arms around her shoulders as he inhales his shampoo in her hair. It makes him want to melt.

He plants a kiss into her hair, "Come on - lets get some food in you."

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jack didn't think his life could get any better after what just occurred in his bathroom but here she was - barefoot in his favorite shirt - prancing around his kitchen. She fiddles with the police scanner, he told her she could find one of the music radio channels instead. He used the police scanner as a distraction but he doesn’t want any distractions from her.

He restarts the omelettes because he got a little distracted before. He doesn't recognize the song that is on but she must - the way a grin bubbles from her lips. He kisses it off and pulls her into his side as he cooks.

Your love run through me like lava

Pull my fit over these hips

You grip, I grind

Then taste this wine, I'ma taste what's mine

Jack couldn't wait to taste her again. And she couldn't wait to taste him for the first time. If they hadn't just worked a twelve hour shift with little to no food - omelettes would be the last thing on their mind.

'I'll never stop you, you'll never stop me

From bein' whatever we need to be

And in these dark times, I'm so glad that this love is blinding

'Cause all I see is the best of you and all you see is the best of me

And you bring out the best of me

And all I see is everything

Your goals, your glow, your inner being

And our bigger meaning

Jack decided he liked this song. It reminded him of them. They brought life into this world one hour and were saying goodbye to it in the next. But in both hours they helped people. And they helped each other by loving each other through it. Their purposes were intertwined - both inside and outside of that hospital.

So, let's lose us in these sheets, yeah

And when I get up to walk, I wanna feel weak, yeah

Well, I ain't goin' far

So, stay where you are

Feel like you partied in Venus and we woke up in Mars

"You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow. Could barely get downstairs." Jack smiled to himself thinking of how he'd carried her down the stairs just moments ago.

"Oh shut up and dance with me." He turned the stove top off and turned to her. These omelettes were never getting made.

With the way she was looking at him - he was perfectly fine with that.

I been waitin' my whole life

And I'm gonna give you the best years of your life

You and I

He twirled her around as they danced - her singing the last words of the song to him. He didn't care that she had the world's worst singing voice - he was still blushing. Because she'd already given him the best years of his life - he couldn't possibly imagine the happiness that lied ahead of them now that they were finally letting themselves have it.

He felt himself getting emotional. He tugged her to his chest, cradling her head, mindlessly pressing kisses to it - ensuring she was real. That this dream was real.

"Jack"

"Hm, baby?"

The cutest yawn he’d ever heard and then, "Take me to bed, please."

Yep, definitely real.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They'd been in bed cuddling for a mere five minutes when Jack's phone dings on his bedside table.

“You are not seriously on call right now?” Her head pops up off his chest and he has never been more annoyed at Robby for texting him than he is right now.

Jack groans as he reaches over, “No, just a question from Robby about that heart attack case we had this morning.”

“He can figure it out.”

“Let me answer - it will take two seconds.”

Jack types or at least tries to. She kisses up his neck - lightly sucking at the sensitive spots and then licking over them. Never doing enough to leave a mark. They don't need those questions at work tomorrow. But enough to make him dizzy.

Her legs are tangled in his and he lightly slaps her ass, “Stop being so hot please, I’m trying to get my work done.”

“Work? Flirting with Robby is more like it.”

“My bad flirting is reserved only for you.”

She points at his chest like she had done this morning, “Better be.”

He looks down and she flicks her fingers up, flicking his nose a lot lighter than she had earlier.

Jack is quicker now, grabs her finger and uses it to gently tug - to wrap her arms around his neck and pull her on top of him. Her legs fall to either side of his waist. It is hard to tell where she begins and he ends but they are a ball of laughter as they settle into each other.

She rests her head in the crook of his neck, placing a kiss there as he does the same to her forehead. Her hands play with the curls at the nape of his neck. One of his rubs up and down her thigh. Then her back. The other in her hair massaging her scalp, lulling her to sleep.

“Get some sleep, baby. I’ll punish you for that when we wake up.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Behave”

“Only cause you said so.”

They both fall asleep with grins on their faces. And wake up with them too.