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writingsonsaturn · 10 days ago

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No Man's Land Part 5

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

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

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

Summary: You and Jack get married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” Robby nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Surprise!” Dana laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y - u come dwn

Y - ?

Y - pls

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

J - I’ll be waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please fuck me into next week.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter!” You smack at his chest playfully.

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

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

“Oh? And what would-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He forces himself to pull away. “So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the day of your third anniversary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robby snorts. “I didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want me to put it on?” Mel asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise,” you add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile at him curiously. “For what?”

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

“Jack-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not my color?” He smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’ll play it next.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you’d like it,” you pant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Jack gives a small incredulous laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack laughs. You’re trying to get a hint as to where you’re going on your honeymoon, hoping he’ll answer and it’ll give you insight as to whether you’ll be spending a lot of time with your chest not covered by a shirt in a swimsuit.

He gives you a self-satisfied grin and you start pouting before he even says anything. “That’s for me to know and you to find out babygirl.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately but it turns into a big yawn that has you covering your mouth. Jack laughs softly. “Come on sleepy girl, lets get into bed.” He fights back his own yawn while following you as you walk back to bed, flicking the light off.

You climb in under the covers while Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes his prosthetic off. Once it’s off he flips the lamp off and slides in beside you, hands on your waist and pulling you close as you move toward him. You snuggle together on your sides, limbs tangling as you get as close as possible while still able to see each other. “Hi handsome.” You smile up at Jack and kiss up his chest and neck to his lips.

“Hi beautiful,” Jack murmurs against your lips. “My beautiful wife. Today was pretty perfect.” Jack takes another couple of kisses from you before pulling away and looking back at you. He swallows thickly. “A little surreal. We’re married.” He’s not dwelling, he’s really not.

But Jack lived in a world where he never even got to ask you to marry him, where he wore his dress blues not to wait for you at the end of an aisle on an altar but to watch them lower you six feet into the ground, even if it was only in his mind. He just has to acknowledge it one last time. It makes him appreciate this, appreciate you all the more.

“Sure was. My handsome husband.” You giggle against Jack’s lips. “But it’s real. We’re married.” You look at Jack and smile as he smiles back at you.

Your smiles and crinkles in the corners of your eyes say everything to each other. Thank you, you’re perfect, you’re my best friend and soulmate and the love of my life, you’re my everything, my whole world and my home, I meant every word I said today and will be faithful to the vows we took. I love you.

Your eyelids get heavy fast as Jack’s warmth seeps into you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You can only fight it for so long as it gets harder and harder to open your eyes with every slow blink. There’s so much you want to say to him even now at the end of your wedding day when it feels like you’ve already said it all to each other. But there’s no way you’ll get anything coherent out. So you kiss Jack one more time and settle for the words you hope convey it all.

“I love you, Peter.”

Jack hums a little laugh to himself because you’re adorable and precious and beautiful and his. His wife.

“I love you more, Doll.”

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

If you made it this far, again, thank you so so much! I hope you enjoyed this part and the series. As much as this is the end of the kind of main story, I don’t think this is truly the end for them. Certainly I have a whole list of other ideas that I’d like to work through first, but I have a couple of ideas for shorter one-shot style fics for these two. If you have anything in particular you'd like to see from them feel free to drop me a note wherever!! And I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on Part 5 and their ending!♥️

Quiet Part 2 is up next. I should have more free time this week and don't plan on making those parts as long so hopefully something will be out towards the end of the week!

Also, a huge huge shoutout to @loveyhoneydovey for beta-ing at times, talking me off a thousand ledges per part, and listening to me go on and on about these two and different ideas. This story is better because of your help. ♥️

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writingsonsaturn · 13 days ago

Note

Honestly I think Shawn, a grown man, can stand up for himself lol

“He’s a grown man, he can stand up for himself.”

Right—but that response isn’t as neutral as you think. It’s a deflection. A way of shifting responsibility for boundary enforcement back onto the individual who’s been placed in an uncomfortable position, rather than asking why he was put there in the first place.

Because this isn’t about whether Shawn Hatosy—or Pedro Pascal, or any other man—can assert a boundary. It’s about how we’ve created a culture that expects them not to. It’s about how consent is routinely ignored, overwritten, or turned into a joke in public space—especially when it comes to men, especially when it’s dressed up as irony, “feminist thirst,” or progressive kink-positivity.

It’s about the refusal to admit that consent isn’t just about sex.

Consent is about presence. It’s about participation. It’s about emotional safety. And it’s about power.

And that matters in every context—including fandom, celebrity culture, and the increasingly blurred space between admiration and projection.

When you call a male celebrity “daddy” in the middle of an interview—on camera, unprompted, fully aware it’ll go viral—you’re not giving a harmless compliment. You’re placing him inside a sexualized, hierarchical, kink-coded role, and demanding a performance. You’re not inviting him into a shared dynamic. You’re building one around him and daring him to resist.

And that’s not just parasocial behavior. That’s coercion. Coercion dressed up in a clickbait blazer and a winking “teehee.”

And patriarchy? Patriarchy loves that. Because patriarchy has always taught us that men, especially older, stoic, men, aren’t allowed to have boundaries. That they should be flattered by sexual attention. That their discomfort is a flaw in the man, not a failure of the situation. That a man’s silence means yes.

So when a male celebrity tenses up or shifts uncomfortably after being called “daddy,” we don’t pause. We dismiss him. We say:

“Come on, it’s just a joke.”

“He’s hot. He can take it.”

“It’s part of the job.”

That’s not the language of consent. That’s the language of normalized entitlement.

Now compare that to when I commented on Shawn Hatosy’s TikTok and said he was “so babygirl-coded.” And he liked it.

Why? Because “babygirl,” as it functions in contemporary online fan culture, isn’t built on dominance or performance. It doesn’t demand control. It doesn’t assign erotic authority. It’s a term that signals affection, vulnerability, softness—a playful, sometimes absurd, often tender reverence for men who deviate from traditional masculinity.

That kind of language lives within fandom culture—inside our sandboxes. And when I call someone “babygirl-coded,” that person can ignore it, engage with it, scroll past, or opt in. There’s no pressure. It’s an aesthetic label, not a demand. So when Shawn likes that comment, he’s participating on his own terms. That’s what parasocial consent looks like: voluntary, pressure-free, and rooted in choice.

Now imagine if I had written, “You’re such a daddy. Ruin me.” Totally different tone. Totally different power dynamic. Even if he never saw it, I’d still be inserting a kink-coded script into a public space as if he had agreed to it. And if he had seen it and felt uncomfortable? The onus would fall on him to disengage quietly or laugh it off, because culturally, we’ve given men almost no tools to say “no” without backlash.

Feminist methodology asks better questions:

Whose comfort is protected?

Whose silence is treated as consent?

Whose body is seen as public property?

Whose boundaries get overwritten for the sake of the bit?

We know the answers. They’re gendered. And they’re broken.

When a man is called “daddy” during a press tour, he’s not being asked to play. He’s being expected to perform, sexually, powerfully, on command. And if he doesn’t? The consequences aren’t just social, they’re structural. He’s seen as less fun. Less marketable. Less valuable as content.

That isn’t just unfair. It’s anti-consensual.

As Sara Ahmed writes, to be the one who names a problem is so often to become the problem. The one who says “this feels off,” “this crosses a line,” or simply, “this makes me uncomfortable” is marked as difficult, humorless, or ungrateful. We see this dynamic unfold constantly with male celebrities—especially those who don’t laugh when called “daddy” in person, or who subtly resist being pulled into a sexualized performance they didn’t agree to.

When a man sets a boundary, even quietly, he disrupts the fantasy. And instead of asking what created the discomfort, the culture asks why he couldn't just go along. Because admitting that men can say no, that they’re allowed to feel uneasy, that they don’t exist for our projection, requires challenging the very entitlement fandom often runs on.

So let’s be clear: You can thirst. You can spiral. You can bark, cry, and post your little essays about his shoulders in peace. You can call him whatever in your sandbox corner of the internet.

But forcing someone into your kink-coded fantasy in person, without their consent, and then reacting negatively when they don’t play along, isn’t empowering. It’s not subversive. It’s just public boundary crossing, dressed up as flirtation.

It’s not “owning the gaze.” It’s replicating it—just with the roles reversed.

And reversing the roles isn’t the same as dismantling them.

Roles—no matter how ironic or reversed—are still roles. And assigning someone a role without their participation isn’t liberation. It’s just performance under pressure.

So yes, he’s a grown man.

And that’s exactly why his boundaries matter—especially because he’s not just a celebrity, but a real person, and a parent. Being called “daddy” in person, during a professional setting, isn’t just awkward—it’s an unsolicited invitation into a kink-coded dynamic he didn’t agree to. And when that man is a father in real life, the term becomes even more jarring, blurring roles in a way that’s neither funny nor flattering. His visibility shouldn’t come with the expectation that he absorb sexual projection or emotional labor just to keep the mood light. Silence is not consent. And feminist ethics, if we’re actually practicing them, demand more than clever thirst and role reversal. They require awareness, accountability, and respect for boundaries, no matter who you’re talking to or how attractive you think they are.

And if your only defense is “He can take it,” you’ve already admitted he might not want it, and decided you didn’t care.

That’s not fandom. That’s entitlement. Wrapped in a punchline and passed off as progressive. (referencing this interview)

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writingsonsaturn · 17 days ago

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Where all my writers with daddy issues at bruh. I need more of Jensen ackles characters daddy x daughter fics immediately.

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writingsonsaturn · 17 days ago

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Suprises | M.R X Reader

a/n: ahh pt 9 finally finished and ready to post!! Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Single mom!Reader wc: 2.2k

prev | masterlist | send me a love letter

Your stomach had been in knots as you danced on stage, being careful not to express your worries on your face. Throughout bowing you had impatiently tapped your foot, anxious of the results.

Your thoughts stopped as your mother announced lacey’s first performance as a petal, she walked to the center of the stage, the lights beaming down on her face, she smiled brightly and took a dramatic bow to the crowd. She smiled and played with the ends of her dress while everyone clapped for her.

You watched with a wide smile, proud of your little ballerina.

“We did that y’know!” Nick whispered into your ear making you roll your eyes. “I did that..” You scoffed, shaking your head, trying to ignore him before sparking a smile as lacey motioned for your own applause.

Doing the same you walked to the center and smiled as the crowd cheered before bowing, taking lacey’s hand and bowing together once more before joining the other dancers and doing one last bow.

You smiled and waited as the curtain finally dropped, you turned to see lacey already letting go of your hand to go listen for your mother’s corrections on the show; Without skipping a beat, you ran off to your dressing room

“Where are they?!” You muttered to yourself as you tore the bathroom apart, looking for where your pregnancy tests could’ve gone. Crouching down to glance behind the toilet, checking the trash over again.

Your heart pounded against your chest as you began to have tunnel vision as you began searching your dressing room.

A knock on the door made you stop, your mom walked in, concern on her face. “What are they reading?” She asked, you had asked marissa to tell your mom of your last minute request as you were finishing off the waltz.

“Its not here..” You explained, sighing to yourself as you dropped your makeup bag onto the counter, defeated.

“You can take another test honey, why do those matter so much?” You mom sighed, walking over to you. “Because they were in my restroom, that means some purposefully walked in and found them and now they know my test results first..” You whined, covering your face with your hands.

“Maybe those tests weren’t meant to be, maybe you’re meant to take them with your boyfriend present?” Your mom theorized making you nod before looking at her. “Maybe you’re right..” Your tongue poked your cheek as you sat in thought.

“Your little lovebug is already ripping off her costume to go say hello.” Your mom told you, making you laugh before turning to the mirror, grabbing the wipes to take off your stage makeup, your body yearning for comfy clothing other than leg warmers and a zip up sweater.

- - - - - - - -

Little pigtails bounced as lacey ran over to robby, smiling as he handed her a small bouquet of flowers. “These are for me?” She asked, smiling as he held her up.

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” Robby asked, smiling softly at lacey’s expressions. She nodded and smelt the flowers before turning to see the other things the workers had brought for her.

“Candy?!” She squealed as jake handed her a party size bag of sour candy. Robby looked around the lobby, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

“Where’s your mommy?” Robby asked, chuckling as lacey attempted to open the bag of candy.

“Hear aunty marissa said mommy was taking some tests..” Lacey said in between her breaths, letting out little sound of agitation as she failed once more on the bag. “Tests, what tests?” Robby asked, trying to catch lacey’s gaze, once he had she just shrugged and turned to jake, the candy outstretched.

“Open please!” She asked, smiling charmingly at him. Jake laughed and opened the bag, grabbing one for himself.

Before robby could ask more, you walked out from backstage, now in your sweatpants and a warm jacket.

You greeted everyone and thanked them for their gifts before turning to robby, quickly planting a kiss on his cheek and whispered into his ear.

“She forgave you?” You motioned towards lacey who had relaxed and was now slowly eating her candy with her free hand while her other held tightly to her flowers.

Robby pulled away and nodded, he stared at you lovingly before turning to jake and motioned for your flowers. You fanned yourself, acting flustered before accepting them. “You didn’t have too.” You sighed, smushing yourself against robby’s bicep.

Dana motioned for jake to join you three, her phone in hand.

“Lemme get a photo of you four!” Dana smiled, standing back as she opened the camera app and counted down.

You wrapped an arm around jake and smiled cheesily. “Beautiful smile there lovebug!” Dana laughed, showing the photo of you four but zoomed in on robby and lovebug; lacey showed her teeth off in the photo earning a snicker from you.

“Perfect pearly whites.” Robby smiled and rubbed her back before turning to you.

As he stood beside you, out of the blue he had tensed up and watched with a straight face as nick walked over to you all.

“Relax green bean giant, i’m coming to say bye to MY daughter!” Nicholas scoffed at robby before attempting to grab lacey from his hold. Lacey quickly held onto robby’s arm tightly and melted against him as robby tightened his hold on lovebug.

“Goodbye nicholas.” Robby spoke up, the others quickly gave nick dirtiest of looks as he backed away and left, muttering under his breath.

You sensed the tension and turned to robby, noticing as the workers began to say goodbye.

“Dinner?”

- - - - - - - -

Lacey sat by the window, her little face smushed against robby’s side, on her tablet as he looked through the menu. “What do you want to eat?” Robby asked, looking over to see lacey taking selfies on her tablet.

“Mac ’n cheesy!” She mumbled, sitting up from robby’s side to pose for another picture, robby in the frame as well.

You chuckled from the other side of the table as the pair both took a photo together.

“Let me take a picture of mommy!” Lacey announced, flipping her camera to show yourself. With a simple pose lacey giggled and turned her tablet to show her work off.

You smiled at the photo before nodding. “What’s with the blue dog on your tablet?” Robby asked lacey, who looked up from her bright screen. She held her tablet to her chest to look at her bluey ipad case.

“It’s bluey!” She looked at robby with a short smile, “She’s a girl! Not a boy!” Lacey clairfed making robby raise his hands and nod.

“Understood.” He chuckled and watched as lacey began to play her apps, turning his head to see you looking out the window, your mind elsewhere.

He leaned further towards you across the table and reached to grab your colder hand.

At the sudden warmth you looked back to see robby’s concerned brown eyes looking at you. You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “You alright?” He asked, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“Yeah, just thinking of stuff..” You smiled, not noticing as lacey placed her tablet down to listen.

“Did you fail those tests?” She asked, a frown on her face.

Your heart stopped at her words, turning to her. “What tests honey?” You asked, nervous for her answer.

“Aunty marissa said you had to take some tests..” She shrugged, you felt flustered as robby looked at you, a question on the tip of his tongue.

Thankfully you had been saved by your waiter asking for your table’s order.

- - - - - - - -

Once dinner had ended, robby followed you and lovebug to your apartment. Not questioning as you stopped at the pharmacy, assuming it was for lacey.

You had been grateful for robby being there, you had wrangle lacey into a bath and fresh pajamas. She sat on your couch, remote in her hand as she watched max and ruby. Robby sat beside her, rubbing her head as she dozed off.

You smiled at the sight, robby had also changed into pajamas he had left there. Robby smiled as lacey’s grip fell, dropping the remote on the plush carpet.

Robby looked at you, a smile on his face. “I was forced to catch up on max and ruby with her.” He explained, lightly chuckling before turning to pick her up.

“I’ll tuck her in, go relax.” Robby motioned for your bedroom with a tilt of his head as he carried lacey to her room. Her little body draped over him.

You had wordlessly agreed and grabbed the pregnancy tests you had stashed once you had gotten home. Setting them on the bed, you sat down on the mattress and waited, it had been a bit before robby entered your room, you didn’t speak of it, assuming lacey had just woken up and requested a bedtime story.

A smile on his face as he laid beside you and placed his head on your shoulder, his eyes finally catching the pregnancy test that were laid out. You sighed and pick one up.

“I haven’t gotten my period in two-ish months micheal..” You explained, robby nodded and took the test from your hands. “I’ll support you through this in anyway you wish me too.” He reassured you.

“Wait with me?” You asked, looking at him in the eye, he just bit his lip and nodded as you got up and left to go take both tests.

Time had felt like forever while both you and robby waited, you both sat on the bed, your phone flipped over as your timer rang out, you sighed and stopped it.

You looked up at robby and motioned to the bathroom where you had left everything. “Come with me?” You asked, feeling shy under his eyes.

He wordlessly nodded and followed behind into the small bathroom, he pick up the turned over tests and held them in front of you.

Feeling anxious you took a deep breath from flipped the tests over and looked at the results.

Positive

You felt a smile grown on your face, looking at robby who held a smile at the results. You quickly launched yourself into his arms, tears falling from your eyes. “I’m actually pregnant..” You muttered, a smile stuck on your face.

“I’m all for whatever you want to do.” Robby told you, holding you tightly, his hand running over the back of your head.

“I-I think I wanna keep it..” You spoke, turning to see a teary smile from robby as he just nodded and placed his forehead to yours.

Emotions filled the bathroom as you and robby celebrated your news quietly, remembering lacey had been sound asleep across the hall. “She’s gonna be a big sister!” You realized, tears slowly stopping as robby kissed your cheeks, smiling in between kisses.

“She’ll be the best older sister, and jake’s gonna have his hands full.” Robby chuckled, making you gasp.

“Poor jake...” You giggled, slowly you and robby had made your way to the bed, laying down robby smiled and knelt down before your stomach.

He pressed his lips to the skin and kissed it, making you smile at him. You both made eye contact, robby bowed his head down and mumbled something.

“What did you say?” You asked, lightly holding his head up, robby avoided your gaze and smirked as he spoke up.

“..I already knew it.” He confessed, it was a moment before your brain had caught up with what he said. “How did you know!?” You asked, a bit shocked. Robby sighed and placed your shirt down back in place.

“A believe a certain bug took something from your bathroom and hid them away..” Robby smiled as your mouth opened in shock.

“Lacey took them?!” You said in shock, all the panic that day of the missing tests had been due to your own child.

“She asked me what they were, thought you had covid.” He laughed, making you grin. “I had the worst anxiety over those tests..turns out my child just through i caught covid!” You laughed, rubbing your hands over your face.

Robby just laughed as he eased you into bed for the night.

- - - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since you had gotten four positive tests, both yourself and robby had sworn to keep the pregnancy a secret for the first trimester before telling everyone the news.

You had sighed, trying to ignore robby’s presence in the corner of the room. It had been rare you had gone down to the ED when transporting patients between floors, it had been a rare sight to see you enter the floor in a navy blue compress jacket, a matching color with robby’s occasional navy sweater he wore.

“You shouldn't be doing the stressful jobs right now.” Robby sighed, thankful it was just yourself and robby in the room, cleaning up as the ICU team had began to take the patient upstairs.

“Oh yes, i should wait til i pop a bump to do my job!” You huffed, picking up an extra tube from intubation they had did at the last minute.

“I didn’t say that..” Robby sighed, you just rolled your eyes and exited the room, sighing as robby followed you to central.

Leaned over the desk as you talked with dana, robby sighed and sat down to begin charting for the moment.

As you and dana talked, you felt a tap on the shoulder. You turned to see a young woman in causal wear. She asked for your legal name, once you had given it to her she handed you a manilla envelope.

“Nicholas callahan is requesting full custody of your shared child.”

lovebug taglist!! @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @lovebuggyies @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @evans-dejong @equallyshaw @qardasngan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finke-blog @baileythepenguin @khaleesibeach @obfuscateyummy @li22ie2017 @hagarsays @catmomstyles3 @antisocialfiore @journalism2004 @capswife @obsessed-fan-alert @sabrinaselina55 @katydunn047-blog @jazzimac1967 @1mverstappen

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writingsonsaturn · 18 days ago

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need this series injected into my veins I LOVE IT

No Man's Land Part 4

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

You can find Part 1 here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here!

40.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: Angst, discussions of being shot and the shooting, anxiety about partner’s safety, emotions, Robby is sad and has a bad day, discussion of Robby, Jake and Leah (Pitt-Fest happened before Reader and Jack got together), panic attack, anxiety, pretending the Buhl Planitarium is open late, alcohol, vague discussion of Jack’s time in the military, unprotected PIV sex (BC implied with committed relationship), some voyeurism-ness if you really squint hard, oral sex, dom Jack briefly, manhandling briefly, FLUFF, Myrna, Reader: can bake, will take Jack’s last name, struggles with body confidence, is not scared of horses, gets drunk, enjoys prehistory, Author: copped out of writing a lot of sex sorry, half assed the sex she did write sorry again, is terrible at summaries; did not proofread or edit

Summary: Normalcy is shattered. You and Jack recover and have some fun.

AN: Nobody is judging 40.5k harder than I am. I genuinely feel bad about the word count because I know it can make it harder to read, especially at once, but it gets really hard to cut it into shorter parts sometimes. So please know I really appreciate you taking the time to read it all and then interact with it. Likes and reblogs and comments and your guys thoughts mean so much to me and really do inspire me. I am short on serotonin and all the interactions give me a little burst of it, genuinely. That all said, we start off pretty heavy but after the first scene things get much fluffier and happier for the most part so it's 100% a much, much lighter read than Part 3. I should have Part 5 out by the end of the week! And again, thank you so much for reading.

You and Jack fall back into a routine, back into normal. Things are really starting to actually feel better. But all it takes is one thing to upend it all.

You weren’t looking forward to this Monday. Neither was Jack. Both of you were simultaneously surprised and unsurprised the day even came. Both of you were also aware that the fragile normal you’d just settled into was shattered, even if only temporarily and even if you knew it was coming. Both of you hated it.

Trial.

The shooter wouldn’t plead. So you and Jack find yourselves standing outside of the Westmoreland County Courthouse. The case had unsurprisingly been moved from Allegheny County and you were grateful for that. It would have been another level of fucked up to have to confront the man that shot you in the courtroom he shot you in. Even in the same courthouse would have been bad.

It’s the first day. Jury selection. Jack told you that you didn’t need to be here every day, that it was okay to only come on the day you had to testify. You knew he was right but some part of you needed to be there for the whole thing. It’s not like it was going to be a super long trial. But long enough and emotional enough to destroy normal. Both you and Jack have to take a week off work, stay in a hotel so you don’t have to constantly drive back and forth. The trial shoves it all right back in your faces again.

You hate how easily normal is obliterated. How easily that man is stealing normal away from you again.

“You sure about this?” Jack asks as he squeezes your hand. He’s not questioning you or your decision, just asking if you’re okay and ready.

“No. But also yes.” You look over at him. “You’ll be here every day with me, right? I know it’s a big ask, and that it’ll be just as hard for you as it is for me at times and I feel bad about asking you to put yourself through that for me but I just need to be here. I have something to prove to myself even if I can’t figure out exactly what it is.”

“Course I will, Doll. I’d never let you go in there alone, not to face him or this in general.” He steps in front of you and wraps his arms around you, pulls your head to his chest for a moment as you wind your arms around him. “And you’re not asking me, nor am I being put through anything. I’m here supporting my fiancée. I’ve got you,” Jack murmurs before leaning down to kiss you. You let yourself get lost in it, lost in him, even with as chaste as he keeps the kiss.

You look down once you’ve broken apart, can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes for your next question. You already know the answer to it but you just need the reassurance. “If this, being here more than I have to be makes me slide back or get worse again. You… You won’t get mad, right? At me for kind of causing it in a way?”

Jack knows why you’re asking the questions, knows that your use of right at the end of the first is because you already know the answer and just need reassurance. He’ll give it to you as much as you need.

“No. I won’t be mad at you. I won’t be mad at all. Healing isn’t linear,” he reminds you, “and that’s okay.” You give him a little nod and one of his hands finds your chin and he hooks a finger under it, pulls up gently to see if you’ll move your head, he would never force you. You let him pull your chin up and look at him. “And Doll, even if you do slide back, it is not because of you. You wouldn’t be causing it. Okay?”

You look at him for a moment, really try to fully believe what he’s saying, before giving him a small nod. Jack kisses your forehead before releasing you and lacing your fingers together again for the walk inside.

You sit in the back, off to the side. It gives you your own little bubble but you can still see everything. Everyone. Him.

At the beginning before voir dire starts the Judge reads out all of the charges. It’s obvious when he gets to the count number that represents you. You’re the only person he’d shot that day who lived. So you’re the only attempted murder. It’s difficult for you to hear yes, to cope with the reality that someone tried to murder you. To hear it spoken about that way. You’d spoken with the district attorney about it though during witness preparation so you had your head wrapped around it a bit.

Hearing it levels Jack. It takes a second because he’s in some weird denial about it but Jack’s brain finally lets him accept it and think about it. That was you, that count represents you, attempted murder, someone tried to murder you. That man tried to murder you and take you away from him. There’s a few seconds where Jack thinks he might be having a heart attack because it gets so hard to breathe at the thought. Rationally he knew that’s what it was, that’s not really a realization for him. It’s just hearing it phrased like that. Attempted murder.

Being there is hard. Hearing it all. Seeing it all when security footage gets played. You knew the video was coming. They’d showed you it during witness preparation. Jack knew it was coming too because you told him, but he didn’t realize how much it would impact him, having to see it all play out, even when the video isn’t of where you were on that day. More will be played when you’re on the stand. The video of you. Where you’re so clearly visible and what’s happening is so clearly visible.

During a recess on the first day while the defendant is still in the courtroom Jack pulls you a little closer to him. “Doll,” he says lowly, not quite a whisper, but low enough to keep it just between the two of you. “I know it’s hard. I know I don’t even know how hard it is for you but I need you to look at him for a second, please. Just a second.” You turn your head and do as he asks as much as you don’t want to. You know he wouldn’t ask you for no reason. “I know you still feel guilty and like my feelings are your fault, like you caused all of this, that our need to heal and recover is somehow on you, somehow your fault. But it’s not. It’s his fault. It’s on that man sitting in that chair. Nobody else. I want you to try and remember that.”

You get a bit teary and don’t say anything for fear of bursting into tears, just nod and turn into him. His arms were already open and waiting, hand finding the back of your head and holding you close. You bury your face in his neck, take in deep breaths through your nose to smell him, let him overwhelm as many of your senses as possible right now to keep you from crying.

You cry when you get to the hotel that night. And the next. You hate it, you tell Jack, because it means you’re going to end up crying on the stand and you don’t want to give that bastard the satisfaction. Jack holds you and reminds you it’s okay to cry up there if you need to. You won’t be the first or last, but that he understands. And he thinks you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Then the day comes. Your name gets called and then you’re up there sworn in and testifying. The DA plays the video of it. It’s the first time Jack sees it. He didn’t even know there was video footage of the courtroom, of where you were actually shot. He didn’t know there was video footage of you being shot, even if you can’t really tell when it happens from the video. It destroys a little piece of him, completely rattles him. But he knows that right now he has to be strong for you.

You surprise yourself but not Jack. You don’t cry on the stand. Don’t give him the satisfaction. You completely and totally wall yourself off. Shut down emotionally. Make yourself deliberately numb. It’s just what you have to do to survive this. When you’re asked to identify the man who shot you you’re able to pretend to be cool, unbothered, even, as you describe what the man who shot you is wearing.

Jack on the other hand does cry a little. Because it’s hard, it’s really fucking hard to hear this. Yes, he’s heard it before because you guys have talked about it, but it’s different hearing it here in front of all of these people, seeing and watching you react to the video. It’s hard to watch you totally shut down emotionally because he can see it in your eyes, but he understands why you have to. It’s hard watching you get cross-examined and needlessly grilled like there isn’t clear video showing it happening.

It’s hard to watch the fucking video. To finally have a visual of what happened to you that day. To know that at some point during the video you get shot. It makes him nauseous, so nauseous at points he worries he’s going to face the choice of being sick right where he is or having to run out of the courtroom on you. He never does though, is pretty sure it’s knowing you need him that keeps it from getting to that point. He hates it. All of it. And he feels so selfish thinking about how hard this is for him when you’re the one up there on the stand.

When you’re finally finished you walk back over and sit next to him, give him a small smile that falls a little when you see his red eyes. You’re completely out of it and not truly present and he gets it, doesn’t try to pull you back. Instead he gives you a little smile back, pulls you close and whispers in your ear how fucking proud of you he is, how much he loves you.

You grab dinner at a place across the street from the courthouse after the trial adjourns for the day. Neither of you say much but Jack is happy when you actually eat a fair amount. The car ride back to the hotel is also largely silent. Jack knows you need it to be, need just the background hum of the radio playing. Both of you know that if you start talking now you’ll fall apart and you really don’t want to fall apart in the car. You want to be able to fall apart in Jack’s arms.

You make it into the hotel room and hear Jack lock the deadbolt before you freeze. You’re not sure what it is about the hotel room that suddenly makes walking or doing anything seem impossible. Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re finally in a safe place where you can break down in Jack’s arms at war with how badly you don’t want to break down at all. Maybe you feel like if you do nothing, if you don’t move or speak or do anything, then you won’t break down and you won’t have to feel everything you’ve been keeping down today.

Jack knows. Even with your back to him and unable to see your face he knows you’re stuck. He walks up behind you and rests his hands on your hips, gives them a gentle squeeze.

“Do you want to shower?” he murmurs.

It takes you a moment to fully process what he says and formulate an answer. “No,” you whisper.

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, kisses your temple. He squeezes your hips again and pushes on one and pulls on the other gently to get you to turn around so he can help you get in the bathroom. He puts the toilet seat down and gets you to sit on it.

He gets his teeth brushed, stands close enough to you that you can lean your head forward and rest your forehead against his side while he brushes. Once he’s done and has washed his face he turns to you.

He’s silent as he grabs one of your makeup wipes and tilts your head up with one hand before he starts cleaning your face with the other. He’s so careful around your eyes getting your mascara off it makes tears stream down your face.

Jack doesn’t comment on them, just tosses the wipe and gives you a kiss and a thigh squeeze before offering you his hands. You take them and let him pull you up and get you standing in front of the sink face to face with him. He grabs your headband and pulls it on, secures the rest of your hair the way you usually do to keep it from getting wet. He makes eye contact with you for a second and while you’re present enough, he knows you’re not going to take it from here. He grabs an extra towel and drapes it over you to cover your front. It’s not much but at least something. He uses his foot to slide over the shower mat so that it’s between the two of you.

Jack gets a washcloth wet with warm water and uses it to wet your face, grabs your face wash and puts some in his hand, starts to rub it together and then on your face. He sees your lip tremble for a second but you don’t let yourself cry. He turns the water back on, grabs the washcloth in one hand and gets it soaking, a towel in the other. He squeezes the washcloth over part of your face to rinse it, holding the towel just below to catch the water. He repeats it over and over, soaking the washcloth, shifting to a new part of the towel until your face is completely rinsed. He pats your face dry with a hand towel then wrings out the washcloth and hangs it and the towel he’d been using up to dry.

You track him with your eyes, something about watching him and the strong grace he moves with soothing you. He gets your toothbrush wet and toothpaste on it. You open your mouth a little automatically for him and let him brush your teeth for you. It is one of the most intimate and loving things Jack has ever done for you. And you love it.

But you hate that you can’t take care of yourself, start to wonder how long Jack will be willing to take care of you like this, like you’re a child. You know it’s one night and that you’d do it for him forever if you needed to, but it feels different for you. He holds your face so gently as he brushes your teeth for you. When he’s done he turns the water on and puts some in a glass for you, hands you it. “I can’t do this part for you Doll or you know I would.”

You force yourself to sip from the glass and spit in the sink, rinse your mouth a few times. You give the slightest nod when you’re done and Jack wipes your lips with a towel, rinses the sink out before getting you back to sitting on the toilet.

He grabs the first product in your nighttime skincare routine and smooths it out over your skin. He gives it a second to absorb like you always do and then he grabs the next product. Your lip and chin tremble harder than they have all night at it and you have to shut your eyes and look down for a moment. He knows your whole routine. Just from observing you. Just because he wants to know so he’s prepared for this, for the time you can’t do it for yourself. You know he knows your morning routine and shower routine too.

You open your eyes and tilt your face back up for Jack, the two of you looking at each other for a moment before he starts rubbing the next product in. There’s no hesitation in his eyes, no irritation or annoyance that he’s having to do this, no frustration or anger, no sadness or pity. Just love and adoration and pride. You weren’t expecting to see pride. He gives you a little smile and then starts rubbing it in and the way his eyebrows come together and eyes narrow slightly in concentration makes your heart flutter because he’s so adorable. He finishes your routine in perfect order, gets your headband off and hair back as you like it and puts some lotion on his own face and then holds his hands back out for you again.

You take them again and he leads back to the main room, carefully strips you and gets you into your pajamas before helping you slide into bed. He’s quick to change and turn all the lights off except for the lamp on his bedside table. He sets an alarm for the morning and gets his prosthetic off. It’s still fairly early but he knows it’ll be a while before you sleep. He also knows you’re not leaving this bed tonight.

He turns and arranges some pillows so he can be propped up a little against the headboard. Once he slides in and gets settled on his back you move closer to him, lay on your side and cuddle into him, your top leg hooking over the top of him as you roll into him and get as close to him as you can, head on his chest.

“Thank you.” You whisper it so softly it’s barely audible.

“Nothing to thank me for, Doll.” Jack has his arms wrapped around you tightly, pulls you into him a little more, shifting himself at an angle just slightly so you can get closer. “You know my routine and would do the same for me.” He feels you shake your head slightly. He knows you’re not saying that you wouldn’t, but that it’s different, he can hear you saying it, and trying to explain it really is because his routine is shorter. Jack also knows that you need to let yourself do this, let yourself cry and feel everything from today. He hates it, hates how much it will hurt you, but he knows it’ll hurt more and for longer the more time you wait to do it.

“I love you.” He leans his head down and nuzzles his nose in your hair, kisses the top of your head. “And I want you to know how fucking proud I am of you. For having the strength to get up there and watch what happened to you all over again in front of the man who did it. For doing what you wanted and I knew you could do, not crying and giving him the satisfaction. For being here for the full trial and going back again tomorrow and the next day and until there’s a verdict. I’ve got you, okay? Always. Unquestionably. So whenever you’re ready.” He’s trying to give you subtle encouragement, let you know that he knows what you need and is here for you. You start to shake a little and he knows you’re at the edge. Jack whispers your name.

That’s what does it. His whisper of your name. You fall completely apart in Jack’s arms, sobbing into him as he hugs you tighter, doesn’t let any of the pieces slip past him. All you can do is sob for a couple of minutes, choking on air and your tears every time you try to say something. As much as you’re weeping because you’re sad it’s more panicky this time. Jack can tell from the way you shake and cling to him.

“I, I h-hate this Jack, I hate it!” You finally manage to get out after several minutes. Your hand fists at the front of the t-shirt he’s wearing to sleep in. “I hate that I let him get to me like this. I hate how, I hate, I hate how scared he made me feel.”

It’s been a while since Jack has seen you this worked up, panicking more than crying. It’s hard for him not to step in, but he knows you need this. “All I could think about was, was watching him point a gun at me and shutting my eyes and I heard, I heard the gun go off, but I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t and I thought I was okay, I really did Jack, I promise, I promise I wasn’t trying to lie in the, in the t-trauma room.”

“I know,” he whispers into your hair, “you were in shock and had so much adrenaline you didn’t feel it.” He kisses at the top of your head, runs his hand up and down your back and keeps one holding the back of your head. “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

That makes you cry harder because you know you are. You always feel safe with Jack. Sometimes the only place you feel safe anymore is when you’re with him. “I know, I know, I just wasn’t,” you’re interrupted by a wracking breath, “I just wasn’t with you, wasn’t with you on the stand and I, I was scared and kept thinking what if he had a gun again somehow.” Jack shuts his eyes at that, clenches his jaw tight. Seeing you like this breaks his heart, causes him physical discomfort and hearing how scared you were, how you thought you might get shot again makes him feel the familiar pressure and rush behind his eyes of tears forming. But Jack’s wrong. You weren’t thinking about getting shot.

“I didn’t even,” you sniffle a couple of times, “I wasn’t even thinking about, about what if I get shot again, I was thinking what if he turned and shot you Jack, what if it was you, what would I do, what was I supposed to do and and how would I go on if you died, and, and” you take in a couple of hiccuped breaths and the tears Jack felt forming start to slide down his face because you were worried about him. Not yourself. “And then it made me feel worse because what if I had died, what would’ve happened to you? You would have been, been so sad Jack and I wouldn’t have been there to help you and I hate, hate thinking about you being that sad J-Jack and don’t ever want you to hurt like that.” You take a huge choked breath in. Jack knows you need to let this out but you��re getting close to a point of him intervening because of how hard you’re starting to panic, escalating quickly the more you talk. Hearing this kills him and his tears fall harder even as he keeps his focus on you. “Then I felt bad, felt guilty because of what I said to you in the hospital about if I had died, and wishing I had, and you could grieve, grieve properly and move on because just thinking about it.” You take in another breath but it’s shallow, blown out quickly as you start to hyperventilate. “Just thinking,” a breath in and out, “about it, I could never,” more hyperventilating, “never move on from you and I, I,” you start to feel a little dizzy, “I said that to you and made you, made you think it.”

“Okay, Doll.” Jack knows you’ve tipped over an edge and have said enough and need help calming down and regulating. “You’re going to make yourself pass out, I need you to follow my breathing, yeah?” Jack grabs one of your hands and brings it to his chest even though your head is already there. He adjusts his breathing to deep breaths in and out and feels you trying to follow him through your tears and hiccuped breaths. “Five things you can see, please. If you can.” He knows with the tears and swelling of your eyes it might be hard.

You wipe at your face a little with the sleeve of your shirt. “The sheets, pillows, your shirt, your arm, the wallpaper.”

“Good.” He kisses the top of your head. “Four you can feel.”

“Your shirt, your hands on my back, how warm you are, my face throbbing.”

That last one hurts Jack a little and he has to fight from sniffling and making you aware he’s crying. He doesn’t want you to start taking care of him and he knows you will. He clears his throat and hopes you won’t think anything of it. He’s sure if he doesn’t he’ll sound like he’s been crying. “Three you can hear.”

You take in a deep breath, breathing calming and starting to match his. “The AC, your heart and your breathing.”

“Two you can smell. Again, if you can. I know your sinuses are probably swollen.” He gives you another kiss to the top of your head.

You try to take a couple of breaths in through your nose. It’s not completely in vain. “You. Your body wash and you.”

“And one you can taste.”

“Metal. The adrenaline.” He’s the one who taught you that. “It’s fading though.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Jack kisses the top of your head again and can feel you go to speak. “Don’t apologize for anything, but especially not the shirt.” It pulls a little laugh from you which makes him smile. He’s conflicted, wants to kiss you so badly but knows you’ll be able to tell he was crying and he doesn’t want you to feel responsible. He reaches over and hits the button on the lamp on his table. The darkness provides cover. “Let me kiss you?”

You nod, move your head back and lift up a bit as he leans down to you, gives you a couple before you both settle back. And then you sit in a comfortable silence. There are words at times. Most from Jack, quiet reassurances, he loves you, he’s got you, he’s so so so fucking proud of you. Some from you, apologies he tells you not to give, thank yous and you love hims. Eventually you fall asleep in Jack’s arms and he lets you. He doesn’t wake you to try and get to some resolution of your feelings tonight. That’s not what you need. You need sleep.

Jack stays awake a bit just holding you and studying your face. Your eyes and lips and nose are all swollen, lashes still a bit clumped from your tears. You snuffle more in your sleep because of how swollen your sinuses are. And he loves you, so fucking much. And he hates seeing you like this, hates seeing you struggle despite how human it is.

Jack knows all too well that life breaks parts of you sometimes. But it doesn’t mean you’re broken, it means you’re human. Life forces you to learn that all humans have pieces of them they’ve had to try and fuse back together. That to be human is to break at times.

He knows that in grieving and healing, you pick up the pieces and tape them back together, and when they fall apart again because the adhesive of the tape wears away you glue them back together. Each time you put the pieces back together the bond used to do so is stronger because you’ve grieved and healed a bit more. So when something hits just right and the glue fails, you pick the pieces back up and weld them together.

But Jack knows all too well that even what’s welded together rusts. Metal corrodes and holes form on welding seams. Because no bond is ever perfect, ever strong enough to keep together something whole that’s already been in pieces. Grief never goes completely away. He knows this will never go completely away. Not for him and not for you. And he accepts that, the way you accept that the things that have happened to him and resultant grief will never go completely away.

That doesn’t stop Jack searching for the perfect thing though, the perfect thing to do that will make it like this never happened. The perfect words to tell you or the perfect look to give you or the perfect kiss to give you or the perfect way to hug you to bond everything back together permanently so that you’d never have to hurt over this again.

Neither of you wake until the alarm Jack set goes off in the morning. You’re in the same position you fell asleep in, both of you out hard. You stir on Jack’s chest and he shifts you both so that your face is next to his, pulls you further out of sleep with kisses to your face and neck. You don’t talk about your panic attack much, he checks in with you, makes sure you’re okay and asks if you want to talk about it. You tell him you don’t, you just needed to get that out and if you talk again you’ll break down again and you just want to finish the trial and talk about it once you’re home. Jack respects that and doesn’t push, just gives you a kiss and says okay.

You don’t know it but once the trial is over and there’s a conviction Jack asks the DA for a copy of the tape that was played while you testified. The DA, rather inexplicably, agrees and gives him a copy of it.

And Jack becomes obsessed with it.

He goes to bed with you. Some nights he waits until you’re asleep to slip out of bed and go watch it at the kitchen table on his laptop. Other nights he falls asleep and wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to watch it. Over and over and over again.

You notice that he seems more tired than usual. You ask him about it and he chalks it up to getting used to being back at work after being off. You believe him but there’s a certain part of you that has a little doubt. You don’t push it though, know sooner or later it’ll come out or he’ll come to you.

Jack doesn’t get the opportunity to come to you about it. Because one night after he’s slipped out to go watch it at the table you wake up, have a moment of panic when he’s not next to you. But his side of the bed is warm and when you open your bedroom door and walk out in just his t-shirt a faint glow from the kitchen reassures you. He must be getting a drink.

You pad to the kitchen and are confused to see him sitting there, headphones in, watching something on his laptop. You feel bad because there’s no great way to get his attention without startling him. But as you get closer you get a glimpse of what he’s watching and ice floods your veins.

“Jack?” You call loudly, hoping he’ll hear you, and he must, just enough to make him glance to see if you’re really there or if he made it up.

He knows by the look on your face that you’ve seen what it is he’s watching. He pauses the video wordlessly, pulls off his headphones. The two of you watch each other for a second. “Where did you get that?”

Jack looks away from you, back at the laptop. “DA.”

You nod slowly. “Just gave you a copy?” Jack looks back at you, defensive. You hold your hands up. “I believe you, I’m just… surprised I guess. That they would do that.”

He shrugs. “Well they did.”

You shift on your feet a little as you try to think of how to progress the conversation. You don’t want to force him to talk to you but you need to know what this is about. “Is this why you’ve been tired? How long have you had it Jack?”

“Does it matter?” He fires it back just a little too quick, a little too acerbic. You furrow your brows and let your lips pull down a little. “No, fuck-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. That was defensive. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” You nod at him, a silent acceptance of his apology, give him time to collect his thoughts. “I got it a few days before you started noticing I was more tired than usual. Week or so ago, maybe.”

You take in a little breath and let it out. You’re mad at yourself for missing it, for not pushing him more on why he seemed so tired. Mad at yourself for letting him suffer alone because of you. You catch yourself. You’re internalizing his feelings into guilt. You think back on what your couple’s therapist has taught you both to stop. Or at least to try to.

“Why?” you ask delicately as you walk a bit closer to him. “Why did you want it?”

Another shrug. It’s unlike him. Very unlike him. “I don’t know.” He glances back at it again. He’s still a little defensive. “I just wanted to see what happened.” You don’t say anything, just tilt your head a little. You can tell he wants to say more. “I wanted to see what happened to you. Up close. I thought maybe it would help me relate or understand better.”

You can tell he’s being truthful, you know he is, that he would never lie to you. But you can also tell he’s still trying to figure out how to tell you the whole truth. “Why alone? Why not watch it with me, talk to me about it?”

“I didn’t want to put you through that just because I wanted to try and understand more.” He’s too stoic. His face too emotionless.

“Honey, if you’ve been watching this for a week” you let out a sharp breath as the realization of it really hits you. “If you’ve been torturing yourself by watching this for a week, I… You should have come to me. Did I do something? Is there a reason why you didn’t want to?”

He lets out a little huff. His façade is starting to crack. “Like I said,” it’s a touch snippy, and you know he feels bad about the way it comes out the second he says it, can see it in the way his eyes narrow just slightly. “I didn’t want to put you through it.”

“Jack-”

“Because how was I supposed to watch it with you?!” It’s not yelled, his voice isn’t raised, not as such. He just says it with a certain force, not of anger but of sorrow. “How was I supposed to watch it with you?” Jack repeats, voice cracking as tears make his eyes glassy. “How was I supposed to sit here and watch it with you?” It’s whispered. His whole jaw trembles as he clenches it to try and keep the tears away, shaking his head a bit. Jack lets out a breath through his nose and looks at you.

“I’m a doctor. I take away people’s pain, I make them better. And I can’t take away your pain now or make you better, mentally or physically, and I couldn’t when you got shot or when you were in a coma or any of the times you’ve panicked or sobbed into me and I am just so fucking aware of it. Of how I fail you. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad or because I want to make your struggle about me or to make you feel guilty for leaning on me. I want that. I need it. You need it. We need it. It’s not your fault, at all, it’s his, and I don’t want this to make you feel guilty even though I know it will, but I still want to talk to you about it as selfish as that sounds maybe.” Jack stops to take a breath in. You both know it’s not selfish.

“It kills me that the thing I do, the thing I do well, I get to you, the most important person whose pain I could ever take away and make better and I just can’t. You’re the only person that matters. Fuck everyone else. And I can’t use my skills and knowledge to make you better. I’m failing you, I feel like I'm totally failing you, and sometimes I get so in my head and sit and start worrying about the day you’re going to realize I’m failing you and just how badly I’m failing you and leave. The day you realize that I’m able to take away everyone else’s pain and make them better but not yours, not you. The day you realize how unfair that is and how totally fucking shitty of me that is.” He lets a shuddery breath out.

“And so I watch this video like it’s going to give me answers.” He shakes his head a little as a few tears slip down his cheeks and he takes a breath in through his teeth. “It’s like I think if I can identify the exact moment you got shot somehow that’ll give me all the answers and I’ll know exactly what to do and how to take away your pain and make you all better so that this never hurts you again. I’ll know the perfect way to hug you and hold you and kiss you and how to look at you and know what you need to hear and then I’ll do it all and put all the pieces back together just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “so that you’re better and aren’t in pain.” More tears stream down his face. “Because that’s what I do. I take away pain, I make people better. But not for you. Not for the most important person, the only person who matters.”

Jack sniffles and wipes some of the tears off his face. “And I know it’s stupid, and it’s not how the world or healing or grieving or any of it works but I have to try. I have to try everything, just in case maybe the world and healing and grieving will work like that for this, and this will be the rarest outlier case that makes no sense but somehow is real.”

“Oh sweetheart,” you murmur as you walk over to Jack, lean over him and run your hand down his chest, kiss at his neck. Jack leans his head in against yours, hands coming to clutch at your forearms. “It’s not stupid. It’s not stupid at all.”

“I just hate it,” he whispers. He turns his head into yours more and you understand, turn yours to so you can kiss him, let him take whatever he wants and needs from you. “I hate that I can’t make this better and take away your pain. I hate seeing you hurt and being so useless and helpless. And I hate how I’m making it about myself.”

“I know you do. But you’re not making it about yourself. This happened to both of us,” you say against his lips. You let your hands run over his chest for a moment. It’s one of those moments where how much you love and adore and need him overwhelms you. You never thought you’d ever have anyone who would sit alone at night and watch a traumatizing video over and over for weeks just to try and figure out how to help you. And as much as you wish he hadn’t because you don’t want him hurting himself, the fact remains that he did and that means something. It means a whole lot.

The feelings make you want to cry not from sadness but just from the overwhelm and a bit the frustration of knowing you’ll never be able to tell him how much you love him. “I love you so much. Come back to bed with me?”

“Okay. Love you too,” Jack whispers and nods before stealing one more kiss from you. He lets you lead him back to your room and into bed. You turn on your bedside lamp so that you can see each other better, both of you leaning against the headboard and turned towards each other a bit. You grab one of his hands and start to play with it.

“It’s not stupid,” you repeat. “At all. It is sweet and loving and yeah, a little heartbreaking for me, but that’s okay. You are allowed to feel what you feel. And I am so glad that you told me, okay? Feeling how you do is valid and it makes so much sense to me.” You bring the hand you’re playing with up to your lips and kiss each of his third knuckles before looking back up at him, getting that true eye contact that he loves.

“But, Jack, my love, you are not my doctor.” You say it so gently yet so firmly, like there’s no room for debate because there isn’t. And Jack knows that and that you’re right. “You need to remember that. You’re my partner. My fiancé. You’re not my doctor. I don’t expect you to be my doctor. You aren’t failing me. In any capacity. I promise you.”

Jack shrugs. “Still.” His fingers play with yours. “I’m a doctor. I make people better and I can’t make this better for you.” You nod at him, think on your feet and decide to run with it since he’s fixated on the idea right now and you know it’ll get through to him better.

“You are. You are a really really fucking good doctor Jack. One of the best. But you don’t send every patient home in perfect condition, completely pain free and fixed and all better, with no healing left to do or pain to experience do you?” You let it linger just a second to make the point. “No. You can only heal them so much sometimes. Probably most of the time because healing takes time and is more than what you as a doctor can do for anyone. People have to do some of the healing on their own. So you admit them to a service. Or you send them home with pain killers and discharge instructions,” you give him the smallest smirk at that which makes him huff a little and his lips twitch upward. “And you set them up with follow up appointments and sometimes you give them casts or braces or stitches or sterile dressings or crutches or a sling or whatever else.” You tilt your head at him. “You, Peter, are all of those things for me.”

Jack’s eyes water again a little bit at your statement, eyebrows furrowing inward and up a bit, asking if you mean it. You nod.

“You say that you can’t take my pain away or make me better but you do Jack. You do. Just by being here. By showing up for me every day no matter how bad I am, how sad or how grumpy or how quiet or anxious or numb or whatever. Just by kissing my forehead in the morning and saying you love me as you walk out the door and filling up my drink when you get up and making sure some part of you is always touching some part of me when we’re sitting on the couch together. You’re always here. Even when you’re physically not. I know for a fact I could call you at work and say I needed you, fuck I wouldn’t even have to say it, you’d hear it in my voice as I said your name and you’d be on your way. I could call you anywhere and you’d show up. You know how much pain that kills? You know much better that makes me? Just to know I have you? Just to know you love me? To know I’ll never have to sit here alone in the grief and guilt and sadness? To know you’ll always sit here with me in it if that’s what I need? I don’t know where the fuck I’d be with all of this without you Jack.” You lean in and kiss his forehead, rest yours against his after a second.

“You are not failing me. You are healing me, Jack. Helping me heal. Helping me get better. You take away my pain, even if some days it’s not completely. There’s some pain even the strongest drugs can’t get rid of completely. But you make it so that it’s always bearable and hold my hand and me while you do it.” You pull your head back, run your hand through those salt and pepper curls you love so much. “I know that you think you need to find the perfect thing to say or do to make me better and pain free from this forever, but we both know that’s not real life, just like I can’t find those perfect things to make you better or pain free from all of this forever. Every kiss and hug and smile and I love you and pat on the ass and cheeky boob squeeze when you walk by me in the kitchen or wherever and cuddle is perfect, and puts me back together a little tighter so that it hurts a little less. Yeah, there are some bad days where I feel like I’ve taken seven thousand steps backwards, but you know who the person taking those backwards steps with me and holding my hand and helping me take the first step forward again is?” You give him a soft smile with slightly crinkled eyes you can only hope reflect how much you love him. “You.”

Jack reaches for you, pulls you up against him in a tight hug. He doesn’t really know what to say in the moment, feels like words have run out. “Thank you.” You can feel him shaking a little and it makes you squeeze him tighter, kiss at his chest wherever you can reach.

“Any time. Always.” You know he wishes he could say more but that he can’t, not as he processes it all, especially with how exhausted he is. And you’re okay with it, more than. He doesn’t need to say anything as long as he heard you and tries to take what you said to heart.

His hands slip under his shirt that you’re wearing just to seek out more of your skin, just to help ground himself a little further. You pull back a little and his hands are already moving to get the shirt off you and tossed to the floor. You settle back on his chest in a close hug.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything. And for keeping the video from you. I know I should have talked to you about it, I just really wanted to find the answer on my own and I became convinced it was somewhere in that video.” Jack nuzzles his nose into the top of your hair. “I’m not saying that as an excuse either.”

“I know you’re not. And I forgive you, to the extent there even really was anything to forgive. I understand Jack, I really do. But it’s going to be okay. We’re going to keep getting through this together.” You move your head from his chest to capture his lips in a couple of sweet kisses. “And now that trial is over we’re getting back to normal again and we’ve got France soon. What happened isn’t going to define our lives or our life together, Jack. We’re not going to let it. There’s just going to be hard moments.” There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence as you just hold each other.

“Do you feel guilty? Because of what I told you? Like you’re somehow responsible?” Jack murmurs, keeping your faces close together, hands running up and down your back.

“Honestly? A little.” You nod as you make the admission. “But I’m thinking about what we’ve learned in couple’s therapy and trying to use the things we’ve talked about and so it’s not so bad. Not like it would have been if we hadn’t started going. You feel guilty?”

Jack nods into your neck before kissing you there. “A little, yeah. Like you said though. Not like it would have been.” He slides his hand up your neck as he moves his head back, holds your face. “We’ll delete it tomorrow,” he nods. You nod back at him, bite the tip of his nose, making him fake scoff and shake his head.

“Let’s go back to sleep?” You scratch at his scalp and Jack leans into it, eyes fluttering closed.

“Mmm,” he hums, nodding and rolling you over so that you’re on your back. His hands find the waistband of his pajama pants. “There’s one more thing I think I’d like to do. You know. To make us both sleepy.”

You bite your lip and giggle as he starts taking his pajama pants off. “Oh yeah?”

Once the pants have joined the shirt on the floor Jack looms back over you, presses his body against yours, hips grinding against yours just enough to pull a little gasp from you when you feel him. He nods as he leans in and kisses you. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It comes up fairly early on, while you and Jack are both still at home and chatting about wedding stuff one night. You’re on the couch with your head in Jack’s lap, attention split between the show you put on TV, listening to Jack think out loud while he does the crossword and scrolling Pinterest.

“Four words lead to this declaration.” Jack has the crossword on the armrest of the couch, his left hand intermittently resting gently on the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, or on your arm. He clicks his pen in thought. Because of course he does the crossword in pen. “Three letters. Nothing filled in.” You hum in acknowledgment at him, your way of saying you’ll think.

“Pennsylvania recognizes self-uniting marriages. We could just marry ourselves,” you suggest.

“We could, yeah.” You turn your head and look up at Jack after he says it. There’s something on his mind. “Five letter word for blowhard.”

“Storm,” you both say at the same time, share a little laugh about it. You sit up and Jack makes a little noise of discontent.

“I’m staying right here, don’t worry,” you tell him as you curl up next to him and wrap your arms around his left upper arm. “You don’t want that.” It’s half question half sentence. You’re trying to give him the space and opportunity to say what he’s thinking about who he’d like to marry you.

“I, no. It’s not that I don’t want that or that I wouldn’t love that.” He shakes his head.

You give him a second. “But you’d prefer something else? Someone else?” An imperceptible nod.

“It’s going to sound stupid.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” You give him an encouraging smile.

Jack clicks his pen a couple of times before turning to really look at you. “I was thinking, what if we asked Robby? I know he’d have to do the whole getting ordained online thing, but…” Jack trails off for a second. “He just, before you, before I had you, Michael saved my life more than once. Metaphorically speaking. And he’s saved your life. Literally. And he’s my best friend and I don’t know. It just felt like maybe it was right.”

A slow smile pulls up on your face, all gooey and in love. “I think that feels perfect.”

“Really?” Jack raises his eyebrows at you. He’s not really shocked per se, it’s just one of those moments where it falls out of his mouth.

“Really.” You nod. “I know how much he means to you. He means a lot to me too. You know the whole saving my life thing.” You lean in and give Jack a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay,” Jack nods with you. “We’ll have to find a time to ask him, decide how I guess.”

“I have confidence that we will figure it out. We have time.” You squeeze Jack’s arm and then pull away, start to go back to the position you were in.

“I do,” you say as you settle your head back on Jack’s lap.

“A little premature, but I love to hear it.” Jack smirks at you as you look up at him.

“The crossword clue.” You playfully roll your eyes at him. “Four words lead to this declaration. The answer is I do. The four special words are ‘will you marry me.’”

You end up deciding to do it at the Pitt one day.

You considered planning it and asking to do dinner and make it a thing but that all felt a little too formal and almost pretentious. It didn’t fit. Doing it on the fly while he was working felt right.

“Can we talk to you?” Jack asks Robby, you standing next to him holding his hand. Jack just finished his day shift at eleven thirty in the evening, had you come to the hospital around seven just in case he got off on time. You chilled in the break room the last four and half or so hours, chatting with people as they came and went.

Robby looks between the two of you. “This feels ominous.”

“Yes or no question Michael.” Jack deadpans.

“Jack!” You chide him a little, but your smirk belies you.

“I’m sorry,” Jack mutters, “can we please talk to you?”

Robby rolls his eyes at Jack calling him by his real name. “Yes. I suppose you can.”

“Thanks Robby!” You smile at him.

Robby thinks it’s odd. You seem almost nervous and so does Jack, but Jack is harder to read at the moment. The shift he just finished was the last on his run and he didn’t get off within four hours of when he was supposed to a single one of those three shifts. Plus this shift was particularly trying. Between all of that and him still adjusting to being back he’s exhausted. It makes him even harder than usual to read.

“In here,” Jack nods, opens the door to the family room.

“Okay, you guys are kind of freaking me out because this is ominous and now you’re taking me into a room where we tell family members their loved ones have died.”

“It’s not bad, I promise.” You try to smile at him reassuringly. Robby nods at you like he doesn’t quite believe you as he sits down in one of the chairs, you and Jack taking the two across from him.

“So.” You clear your throat. “Obviously you know we’re getting married.” You hold up your left hand and flash the ring at him, which pulls a little smile from Robby.

“Robby,” Jack starts. But he stops. He looks emotional, like this is a hard conversation to have but not because it’s bad but because it means something. Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Michael,” he starts again, earning a slight eyebrow raise from Robby because of the tone, “we were wondering if you would consider getting ordained and officiating our wedding. If you, if you’d marry us?”

Robby’s head lolls forward a little and his eyes widen, brows raised as he looks at Jack and then you and then back at Jack and then away from you both as he leans back. “Wow,” he breathes out and laughs a little. “Holy fucking shit you guys! I thought you were bringing me in here to tell me one of you had some terrible illness.”

You and Jack laugh a little, your hand finding his and squeezing.

But it’s then that your words really hit Robby. He looks back at the two of you. He’d deny it if anyone asked but his eyes are a little glassy. “You want me to marry you?” He has to clear his throat of some emotion. “Really?”

“Please,” you nod.

“Seriously,” Jack says quietly.

Robby still looks a bit stunned but a huge smile pulls onto his face. “I, fuck, wow, yes. Yes, of course. I would be honored.” He stands and you follow, let him pull you into a big hug. “You’re sure about this?”

“Of course.” You smile at him as he releases you. “Nobody else we’d rather have do it.”

Jack stands up behind you and you step to the side, let the two embrace.

“Thanks brother,” he says quietly to Robby.

“I mean it Jack. It’s an honor.” The two step apart and you lean into Jack, all three of you smiling at each other.

You exit out of the room and walk by the lockers so Jack can grab his backpack and you guys can leave. You wait by the desk, chatting idly with Robby and Samira until Jack walks up behind you.

“Ready Doll?”

You can hear how tired the poor man is. It almost makes you feel a little bad about sharing the thought you just had. Almost.

“You know, I just realized that everyone up on the altar will have seen my boobs!” Your lips turn up and turn into something between a grin and a smirk.

You hear Jack take in a big breath and release it as a breathy, “Oh my god.” He just shakes his head and finds your hand with his, laces your fingers together. “Come on, you, we’re done here.”

Jack starts walking towards the doors, tugging you along with him and you just giggle.

“Oh so you’re just leaving me here to explain that?” Robby calls after you. It just makes you giggle louder.

“I’ll show you my tits if it’ll make you feel better, Fruitcake,” Myrna offers Robby from her wheelchair, suddenly right behind him, as she raises her eyebrows at him and goes for the hem of her shirt.

“Jesus!” Robby nearly jumps. “Where did you even come from? When did you get here? Stop lifting your shirt up!”

You turn around a little and look back over your shoulder and wave. “Bye! Thanks again Robby!”

Beside you Jack lets out a tired and huffed laugh because he loves you so much. When you turn back around he slips his hand out of yours and winds his arm around you, making you do the same. Jack pulls you a little closer to him and presses a kiss to the top of your head as you walk out the doors. “I love you Doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay?” Jack asks, squeezing your thigh and interrupting your thoughts.

It takes you a second but you look over at him. “How could I possibly be anything less than okay right now, Peter?”

“Hey,” he laughs quietly, “I was just checking. You seemed a little zoned out.”

“I’m on a plane, in very nice seats, sitting next to my unreasonably handsome fiancé who I’m on my way to France with.” You set your hand on top of his and squeeze. “I was just thinking I’m glad this came after the trial.”

The trial finished about a month and a half ago, just long enough for you and Jack to heal from all the emotions it stirred up and settle back into your routine so that things were normal when you had Robby drop you at the airport earlier tonight. You had been concerned for a bit that the trial might shortly after your trip. Neither of you wanted that because then it would be all either of you were thinking about during the trip.

“Me too.” Jack nods. “I’m ready for some time alone with you, truly alone and away from all the bullshit. I’m glad I decided we’d start with a couple of days in Nice. That was very smart of me.”

You giggle and roll your eyes at him. He’s right though, it was. “It’ll be very nice to have some time to just lay out on the beach and relax before making our way up the country.” You pull the armrest up and lean into Jack who wraps his arms around you. “I’m ready to nap on the beach with you under an umbrella.”

Jack yawns at the word nap. “Yeah I’m going to need a nap on the beach alright.” He’d booked you a red eye, leaving at almost midnight Pittsburgh time so that you get to Nice in the morning and can maximize your time in France. You both know the first day will be a lazy one though and you’re both more than okay with it. Napping on the beach together being an option and all.

“You should sleep,” you encourage him.

“You should too.” He raises his eyebrows at you a little.

“I don’t sleep well on planes.” You shrug.

“Yeah, but you sleep well on me.” He cocks his head at you and gives you a bit of a lopsided smile.

You laugh silently through your nose, shaking your head at him. “You’re pretty slick sometimes, you know that?”

“I just speak the truth, Doll.” Jack pulls you a bit closer to him and grabs the traveling blanket you’d brought with you from the seatback pocket where he’d put it earlier. You help him spread it over the both of you and then snuggle into him as much as you can in airplane seats. Jack’s breathing evens out pretty quickly. It takes you quite a bit longer to find sleep, but once you do Jack is right. You sleep pretty well.

Nice is gorgeous and relaxing and so what you and Jack need, some lazy time together to focus on each other and nothing else. Your hotel is stunning and right on the beach giving you easy access to it. You’d spent your first day at the beach too given how tired you were and how nice it was to just lay in the sun together and relax. You’d walked around Nice your second day and picked up the car you’d be driving through the country in. You’d taken a little drive to Grasse, and looked around, gone to Fragonard and done the museum before you and Jack decided on a perfume for you and cologne for him.

And now you and Jack are spending your last day in Nice back at the beach all day.

You’re both laying out on towels on the sand currently, your stuff on top of the shaded lounge chairs you’ve claimed. Jack’s wearing the beach leg he got so that he can be in the sand and sea. The softness and warmth of the sand is relaxing against your backs. If you and Jack weren’t intermittently talking you’d probably fall asleep.

There can’t be much more than a foot between you and during a lull in conversation Jack blindly feels for your hand. He plays with your fingers once he finds it. You sit up and take a moment to admire him.

“France looks good on you, Dr. Abbot.” Your eyes trail up and down his body appreciatively. With the time you’ve spent out in the sun Jack is unfairly tanned, skin glowing. It makes his freckles pop even more which is something that drives you insane. You’d really noticed it yesterday when the two of you showered together.

You dragged him out of the shower quickly and to bed so that you could try to kiss and count each one while telling him how hot and gorgeous he is, how unfairly so and that you can’t believe he’s given himself to you, that you’re the one that gets to see him like this and have him. You’d spent the rest of the night loving on him.

And apparently you’re not ready to be done.

“Oh yeah?” He turns and smirks a little at you.

“Yeah.” You lay back and roll on your side, put your elbow in the sand and rest your head in your hand.

“I love your hair like this.” You run your free hand through it. He didn’t get a chance to get it cut before you left. It honestly can’t be more than a centimeter longer, but it’s just enough to show off his curls a little more, especially when they’ve dried from the sea’s salty water. “Just a little longer. Gives me a little more curl to enjoy.” You hum for a second. “To pull on.”

“Really?” Jack’s basking in your attention and love

You pull your eyes from his hair down to his face. “Yeah, really,” you nod.

“You want me to keep it this length always?”

“Would I like that? Absofuckinglutely. But it’s your hair. And I love it shorter too, like when we met. So you should keep it how you like it.” You scratch at his scalp a little. “I will love my salt and pepper curls no matter their length.”

“Yours?” Jack raises his brows and gives you a teasing grin.

“Mhm.” You nod. “Mine.” You roll a little more and lean your head towards him. “Just like these are also mine.” You kiss at the freckles on his shoulder and chest, PG enough for the beach but with enough of a lingering edge and a nip to make him feel it in his groin.

“Yeah?”

“And so is this.” You drag your nails down his happy trail, stopping just short of his cock. Obviously you couldn’t rub it here to make your point as much as you’d have liked to.

Jack lets out a harsh breath through his nose. “Careful, Doll.” He can feel himself starting to get hard.

“What?” It’s all fake innocence and pout. “All of you is mine. Isn’t it? Just like all of me is yours?”

“Of course.”

“So let me have you tonight. Let me appreciate what’s mine, focus on you.” You grab one of his hands and bring it to your mouth, kiss at his fingertips. You give the tips of his ring and middle fingers the quickest kitten lick. “Because your face twisted in pleasure, and the groans I pull from you, and the way you say my name and look when you come are also all mine.”

Jack has to sit up and bend his knees at that. His heart is beating much faster now, lust and need coursing through his veins. He’s hard and that’s a problem in these swim trunks.

You follow him, sitting up and leaning back on your hands. “Unless you wanna go back to the hotel room now?”

“Yes,” he breathes, a frustrated edge to it.

You smirk. “Let’s go.”

“We have to wait a minute.”

“Oh?” You raise a single brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Jack huffs. “You know exactly fucking why.”

“I swear, I have no idea what you mean,” you’re giving him your most innocent doe eyes, the subtlest hint of a smirk at the corners of your mouth, “Dr. Abbot.”

Jack’s jaw clenches hard, eyes searing into you. “Get up.”

You do as he asks, start to collect your things. Your movements are hurried, you’re just as desperate as him, swimsuit sticky already with how wet you are for him.

You go to grab your towel but Jack stops you. “Yeah, yeah, I got the towels, thank you very much.” You furrow your brows together for a second in genuine confusion before Jack stands up and quickly drapes your towel over the arm he’s holding against his lower abdomen and grabs his and does the same so that the towels hang down and cover what would otherwise be his very obvious erection.

“Oh dear,” you tut, finally letting a self-satisfied grin pull on your face. “That’s why we needed to wait?”

“Go.”

“Yes, sir.”

He tries to stay stoic but you don’t miss the way he clenches his jaw again and rolls it, how he shifts on his feet just slightly. You widen your smile and kiss his cheek before throwing the last few things in your bag and taking his hand.

You giggle as you walk back. With how much bigger Jack’s steps are than yours and how fast his desperation for you is driving him to walk you’re almost having to jog a little to keep up with him.

Once you’re back in the hotel room and have literally just dropped all of your shit and the towels and get to the side of the bed you try to push Jack back onto it but he doesn’t let you, uses your motion to push you back onto the bed.

You whine and try to get up. “No. You can have me tonight like you said.” Jack’s hand comes to your chest and pushes you back down.

“Jack!” You whine. But you can feel your heartbeat in your clit, have to rub your thighs together a little, which doesn’t escape Jack’s notice.

“You really thought you were going to get me painfully hard in public and call me Dr. Abbott and sir and get away with it?” Large, strong and dizzyingly warm hands make quick work of your swimsuit and toss it aside.

“I thought you’d let me focus on you.” You push your lips out in a little pout.

Jack leans over you, caging your head in between his arms. He ghosts his lips over yours. “You thought wrong.”

He pulls up and starts taking off his swim trunks. You make a high-pitched noise of protest as he gets off you. “Not even a kiss! You won’t let me have you like I want and you won’t even kiss me when you were right th-”

“Stop talking.” It’s firm. He’s hit order territory. It makes you shiver. You like it when he gets like this. This edgy kind of dominant that’s distinct from other times he’s dominant. Just a little rough at the right moments. Manhandling you however he wants. Using you for his pleasure.

You could reply in one of two ways, both of which would rile him further, just in different ways. But right now the choice is clear.

That makes you smirk and arch a single brow at him. Jack already knows what you’re about to say. “Make me.”

Jack hums a dark laugh and smiles at you. “With pleasure Doll.”

You’re a little confused when he walks around to the foot of the bed and grabs under your arms and yanks you further onto the bed. The suddenness of it makes you shriek a little. “Jack!”

He moves your lower body so your legs are out in front of you comfortably facing the head of the bed and then pulls you down further so that your head is hanging off the bed. Jack’s a little rough shoving his fingers in your mouth to open it and get them wet. You know what’s coming when he pulls them out.

Jack lets out a slightly strangled sigh of relief at the feeling of your mouth around him. “There we go, hm, Doll?” He leans over you, shoving himself further into your mouth but not too far, he controls the angle of his hips. You realize he didn’t just move like that for himself when the two fingers wet with your saliva come to circle your clit and slide down, tease your entrance. You already know he’s going to edge you like this.

You swallow your whine when he pulls his hand away and then are choking around him from the shock and pleasure when his hand comes down to smack your clit. “Look I’m even being so nice,” Jack coos at you, “giving you what you wanted. Because this is what you wanted right? To be choking on me?”

Jack pulls out of your mouth so you can answer. You take a couple of breaths before you do, mostly to prepare yourself. “I don’t know. Is it?”

“Hm,” Jack laughs again, smacks your clit before pinching at it, pulling another little shriek from you and a moan of pleasure that he can see you fighting to keep down. He likes when you make him work for it. “Be careful what you wish for, Doll.”

After dinner that night, which you were actually a little surprised you were able to walk to, Jack does let you have like you talked about on the beach. He’s a man of his word and it’s quite the opposite of a hardship.

The next day you guys hop in the car and start driving. You hit Arles and then go up to Avignon to look around, spend the night there and go walk through the city to find a cute café to have breakfast at.

From there you head to Nîmes, and then on to Carcassonne. You spend the later part of the day looking around the town before heading to the hotel you’re staying at. Carcassonne leads you up to Rocamadour.

All of France is beautiful, but there’s something about the way the town is literally built into the side of a stone cliff that really stuns you both. It’s just so incredible and makes you feel so small in a way for some reason. It’s hard to comprehend the reality of it.

“I could spend so much money here,” you whisper to Jack. The two of you are browsing in the most incredible leather store you’ve ever been in, and probably your favorite shop of the trip so far.

Jack stops walking and flicks his head a little, staring at a spot on a table a bit down from you before looking down at all of the things he’s carrying in leather bags you’re getting. “I think you are spending so much money here, Doll.”

He doesn’t mean it in a bad way, isn’t complaining about it at all. He’d buy you the whole store if it would make you happy and he feasibly could. He’s happy to spoil you, though he’s well aware there’s going to be a fight when you go to checkout about who’s paying.

You look back at him and stick your tongue out a little at him. He rolls his eyes at you and does it back as you walk over to him and show him a little cosmetics bag you’ve picked up before adding it to one of the bags he’s holding. Jack nods at it appreciatively. “It’s not all for me.” That’s true. You’re getting quite a few gifts here for all the people in your lives. “The leather is just so beautiful and well priced.”

“It is.” Jack picks up a nice leather wallet and looks it over. “And not everything we’ve got here is something you picked out, I’ve added my own stuff.”

“What?” You look up at him with mock offense. Jack’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head, bunching his shoulders up. “And you haven’t been showing me?”

Jack looks at you for a second. “No?” You give a little scoff, but it’s teasing. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to?”

“Well, you are,” you say matter of factly. “So show me.” You nod when he doesn’t move, smiling at him. You’re adorable when you’re this excited. “I want to see! I like seeing! That’s half the fun of shopping!”

“Okay! Okay! Give me a minute to dig it all out!” Jack laughs a little, shaking his head at you. A wave of love and adoration for you crashes into him and he gets a little overwhelmed by it as he goes through the bags to pick out what he’s put in. He just loves you so fucking much. He shows you and you love all of them, take another spin through the whole store before checking out.

You leave Rocamadour then and head to Lascaux II. You’re particularly excited for this one. You’re in awe the second you get down into the replica cave. Jack almost wants to record you in Lascaux II because of how fucking precious and cute you’re being and how completely fucking oblivious to it and how it’s affecting him you are.

“This is so incredible,” you say for probably the tenth time. “Look at this Jack. I couldn’t do this now. Imagine them doing it 20,000 years ago. That’s just… I don’t even know. It’s making me bizarrely emotional.”

“Aw, baby.” Jack breathes through a little laugh, pulls you close to him. He gives you a little squeeze and kisses your forehead before you step away to go back to chatting with your tour guide as everyone looks around this room. He knows it defeats the purpose of the visit for him and that you’d lovingly chide him if you knew, but Jack doesn’t care and spends more time smiling and watching you take it all in and chatter away with the guide than he does looking at the cave paintings. He never wants to leave.

The tour, however, does come to an end and you look around everything else and the gift shop and leave Lascaux, head to Limoges to spend the night and tour tomorrow. From there you tour Château de Chambord and then Amboise, where you go wine tasting and get quite tipsy together before making your way back to your hotel room with the both of you in a fit of giggles.

In the morning, you and Jack leave Amboise and drive to Ohama Beach and the Normandy American Cemetery. It’s not sad as such, just kind of somber, which makes sense.

You and Jack walk through the rows silently, hand in hand with Jack reading name after name. It gets to him a little. Makes him feel kind of bad. Here he is all the way in France on vacation doing this and thinking about people he doesn’t even know. He lives less than four hours from Arlington and hasn’t been back since the last funeral.

He thinks about the rest of his unit, the ones still alive. They’d all moved across the States, settled different places where they or their spouses had family or just wanted to live. They kept in touch though, texts and calls. He went to a couple of weddings, knows each time someone welcomes a baby. All but one are coming to the wedding and the only reason he’s not is because his wife is due only two weeks later.

He’s told you some about them. He realizes in the moment though that he’s told you more about what happened when he lost his leg. You know pretty much everything, everything he can remember at least. It took him a while to open up about it, not even so much because it was hard to talk about, talking to you about it was actually not easy but not as hard as he thought it would be because he knew you had him and would really be listening and there for him if he fell while talking. It was more he struggled with the idea of you having to know, having to carry it around similar to how he does, less so obviously but still. He didn’t want that for you, felt it was like a burden almost, a cross to bear with him. But he’d spoken with his therapist about it and been able to see it wasn’t.

“You know if you ever want to take a trip to Arlington I’m there with you, yeah? You don’t have to go alone unless you want to.” You squeeze his hand.

Jack smiles to himself and nods. You would know what he’s thinking about right now. “I know.” He squeezes back. You don’t say anything else, know that you don’t need to.

You end up getting sandwiches from a little café and have lunch sitting on a wall overlooking the beach. Jack shares some stories about his time overseas and on base here, most of them funny and making the both of you laugh. “Have I ever shown you pictures?”

“A couple, yeah. From weddings after or photos of new babies or pregnancy announcements.” You give him a small smile and tilt your head. “You don’t have to show me or tell me anything, you know?”

“I want to,” he nods as he pulls his phone out. It takes him a minute to find them, but when he does he scrolls through them and tells you the context, points out who everyone is. Tells you who was lost, little things about others, where they are, if they’re still in.

One he shows you is old, from when he first joined. “Oh my god, you’re a baby!” You take his phone from his hand as he laughs. “Look at you! How old were you here?” You look up at him. Jack tells you and you look back down at the phone. “Wow,” you breathe, “do you have more of you younger?”

“Yeah.” He takes his phone back from you and scrolls. He’s a little bit older in these ones. “Right before I deployed on my first tour.” He swipes. “This was taken the day we arrived over there.”

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile. You know it’s maybe not appropriate in a way, but you only do so because of how young he looks. You’ve never really seen him this young before. It’s always been much younger, baby photos, middle school, high school graduation.

Jack bumps your shoulder with his. “You got any of you this age?”

You grimace at that and shake your head. “I mean, yeah, but you don’t want to see them, trust me.”

Jack barks a laugh at that. “I trust you on everything Doll, but not that.”

You deepen your grimace as you look at him. “You should.”

He shrugs. “Prove it then.”

You groan at the challenge. “Fine,” you mutter, “but I expect a ‘you’re right I’m so sorry for doubting you’ and you take my ‘I told you so’ without comment or a look.”

Jack’s giving you a look already because he knows you’re full of shit and he’s going to love them. “If that’s warranted then I promise I will. But I know it won’t be.”

You drive into Paris in the late afternoon early evening, get checked into your hotel. Jack did good. Jack did real fucking good. Your room has a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower and a big jacuzzi tub. It’s just large enough but is still small enough that it’s cozy and romantic. You look around with big eyes and a look of disbelief.

“Jack, this is so beautiful.” You open the balcony door and walk out onto it. You’re almost a little speechless. Not even from how beautiful the room is and the view and the tub but from the fact that he chose this hotel and this suite for you. Because you know the only thing he was thinking of when he booked it was that he wanted to spoil you and make you happy and see you smile. “It’s incredible.” You murmur it but you know he’ll hear because you can feel that he’s standing right behind you even if the noise of the city covered his footsteps. You recognize his presence.

Jack’s hands find your hips and his chest presses into your back as he kisses the top of your head. “I didn’t order the champagne.” There’s a very nice bottle sitting in a bucket of ice for you, two flutes on the table it’s next to.

You turn, shaking your head at him. Jack’s hands opening and settling back on your hips once you’ve turned all the way. “That’s not what makes it incredible.”

Jack gives you a little knowing smile and nods. “Anything for you, Doll.”

You lean up and kiss him, again and again until you’ve managed to maneuver the two of you so that Jack’s pressed against the balcony wall as you makeout. “You know this is very unfair,” you whisper against his lips when you break apart for air. Jack flicks his eyebrows up at you. “You get to plan the honeymoon too. When is it my turn to plan a vacation and spoil you?”

Jack laughs softly, catches your lips in another kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth for a second. “You can have the next one, okay? After the honeymoon.”

“Okay, good.” You kiss until you’re breathless again and then pull apart.

“What would you like to do before the Tower and river cruise tonight?” Jack asks you with a little tilt of his head. “Champagne and a little moment on the balcony?”

“I’d like to start,” you take a step back so that he can walk past you and into the room, “with you getting on the bed. Fully clothed.”

He cocks his head further. “You don’t have to do anything to thank me. I wanted to do this for you. Wanted to see the smile you gave me when you walked in and looked around.”

��I know I don’t,” you reassure him with a nod. “But I want to. I want to suck your cock for you and see the smile you give me right after you’ve come.” Hands squeeze your hips a little harder. “So please. Get on the bed.”

Jack looks at you for a moment, genuinely wanting to make sure you know you don’t have to and he didn’t do this so that you’d take him in your mouth once you’d seen the room. When your eyes and expression convince him he nods and does as you ask.

Once Jack’s finished and recovered you decide to head out and walk around, just soak in the City some before you go to your reservations at the Eiffel Tower.

Jack thinks he could live here and spend every day for the rest of life watching you and the look of wonder as you lead him through Paris.

You and Jack share champagne on the top of the Eiffel Tower before you find a cute Seine side café for dinner. At 10:30 you board the boat that will take you up and down the Seine letting you see lots of the sights uplight and bathed in different shades of light. They of course pause down by the tower just before 11 and once it hits the Eiffel Tower sparkles and your face lights up exactly how Jack knew it would. He snaps several photos of you, the angle perfect and letting him get your profile and the tower in the same shot before he gets your whole face so he never has to even imagine this look again. His favorite is the one he gets when you turn to him beaming to thank him for this because of the expression on your face and how happy you are and how you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing on the planet that matters to you.

It’s his phone’s wallpaper before you even disembark.

The next morning you start with Notre Dame and Sainte-Chapelle before heading to the Louvre.

“I think it’s this room.” Jack nods towards one.

You take a cursory glance at it and keep walking. “It’s not. It must be further up.”

“You didn’t even look!” Jack catches back up with you in two strides.

“I promise you that when we get to the room you won’t need to ask if it’s the room.” You look up at him and try to give him a convincing smile. He narrows his eyes at you but nods.

You guys walk up a bit more and come to another doorway off the side of the hallway.

“Ah,” Jack clicks his tongue. “I understand now.” You share a look with him but don’t say ‘I told you so’ or even give him that specific look.

You only have to glance at the room to know it’s the one housing the Mona Lisa. The huge mass of people making it difficult to even get through the doorway makes it quite obvious. You and Jack slip in and stay off to the side. You manage to get a good opening and are able to work your way in a little bit to see it before you quickly get out of the room, overwhelmed and done with all the people.

“It’s smaller than I thought,” Jack comments as you walk down the hall a bit away from the room.

You stop walking and look up stoically at the wall in front of you before looking at him as he keeps walking for a minute before realizing you’re not next to him and spinning. “Doll?”

“If only you had someone who told you that it was going to be smaller than you thought before you even stepped foot into the country.” You tilt your head at him. You’re not mad or annoyed, just playfully teasing him. The smirk pulls up on Jack’s face just a little too quick. He said it to fuck with you. “You asshole,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head as you walk ahead again.

Jack chuckles as he catches up with you. “Sorry, Doll, I couldn’t resist.”

You shake your head, have to laugh with him for a second. “It’s not even you doing it, it’s the fact that it fucking worked on me.”

“I can be very convincing.” Jack laces his hand with yours and squeezes.

You slow to look at a painting but look at Jack first. He’s already looking down at you, smiling, shoulders tensed just slightly in a way that tells you he’s about to lean down and kiss you. “Yes you can, Dr. Abbot.”

That earns you a little twitch under his eye before he leans in and kisses you.

You spend the next day at Versailles. “Golf carts?” You furrow your eyebrows but smile.

Jack lets out a bitten back laugh. “You know it doesn’t scream Jardins du Château de Versailles, but with how big the gardens are I get it.” He looks around. “They have a little train too.”

You and Jack have finished touring the palace proper and have walked out to see the gardens and trianons. You shake your head. “Oh no. No, no. We are so renting a golf cart.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grabs your hand and starts walking towards the booth you rent them from. “I knew the second you said golf carts.”

“Are you saying I’m predictable?” You bring your other hand across you to poke the side of his tummy. “Ow!” It doesn’t even hurt, it was just more unexpected. “I’m not saying that at all, believe me, Doll, you never fail to keep me guessing. I’m saying that wanting to rent a golf cart to drive through the gardens of Versailles is so you that it’s like they decided to do it just for you.”

You smile a little at that. You like knowing you keep him guessing but that he thinks things are very you at times. “I’m driving.”

Jack nods. “Knew that too.”

The day after Versailles you do more of Paris. You’re walking around the Palais Garnier headed towards the gift shop, your tour of the opera house having just finished.

“We could do a Phantom of the Opera roleplay.”

Jack breathes out a laugh that makes it clear how much that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. “We could do a Phantom of the Opera roleplay,” he mutters, shaking his headband bowing his chin to his chest for a second. He looks back at you. “We could, yes.”

“It would be very hot.”

Jack laughs. “Any roleplay would be very hot with you, Doll.” You’re both keeping your voices low enough for only the two of you to hear.

You stop walking and smirk at that. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack emphasizes the word as he nods.

“You’ve thought about it before?” you simper, resuming walking.

“You haven’t?” Jack shoots back with a smirk of his own. “What have you thought about?” You need to know now, need to know if they match your own fantasies and if you could taxi back to the hotel right now and act one out, tour of the Catacombs be damned.

“We can talk about it at dinner. Or after dinner.” He squeezes your hand and keeps walking you both towards the gift shop.

“Or we can talk about it now.”

Jack knows this is a battle he’ll lose and he’s honestly okay with that. “Can we at least do the gift shop and then grab some food and talk while eating? I’m hungry.”

“Yes. I can live with that, but can’t live with you being hungry.” You let go of his hand as you walk in the gift shop so that you can look at things. “I’ll be speedy.”

The rest of your trip passes too quickly for either of your liking. Before you know it you’re walking into your hotel room for the last time. You’re back a little earlier than usual but you’d decided to come back after dinner to spend the night together in your room and in the tub and on the balcony just focusing on each other. Neither of you are looking forward to having to go back to work. Back to being apart. It’s going to be hard going from being together 24/7 to only having mornings and nights except for the weekends if Jack has it off.

You’re both ignoring it, don’t want it ruining your last night here. There will be plenty of time to be sad about it tomorrow at the airport and on the plane.

You order a bottle of wine and bring it to the tub with you, sit and soak across from each other while giving each other foot massages and talking about your favorite parts of your trip.

“This isn’t a very fair deal, you know.” You can hear the teasing in his voice.

“I can’t help that my hands are smaller and not as strong as yours! I’m doing my best!”

Jack laughs. “That’s not what I meant, you give the best massages.” You raise your eyebrows at him and shake your head to ask what then. One of Jack’s hands falls from your foot to find the other one underwater. “This,” he pulls it up and puts it next to your other foot, toes sticking out of the water a bit, “is what I meant.”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes at him and flick some water at him. “You are so full of shit, Jack Abbot. You know for a fact that once you’re done with my other foot I’m going to get closer to you and massage your leg. If anything, it’s nice for you because my hands get a break and aren’t as tired so I can go longer.”

You’re correct. Jack does know that for a fact, he just likes to fuck with you sometimes. “Did you just flick water at me?”

Your head shrinks back a little at the question because it is not what you were expecting. You let out a laugh. “And what if I did?”

Jack tightens his lips together and nods his head at you once quickly. “Then I would have to do something about that.” You stare at each other for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you try and figure out what his move would be.

“Don’t.” You try to stay serious but laugh a little. “You will send water everywhere.” You know he isn’t just going to flick water back at you or even send a wave at you. The playful look in his eye tells you that he’s going to lunge for you which will force the water forward with him and out of the tub just so he can grab you and pull you close to him.

Jack’s smile widens. “We have lots of towels.”

“Jack.” You try so hard to stay serious but his adorable goofy grin makes it nigh on impossible. “I don’t want to spend our last night in Paris mopping up the bathroom floor.”

“You should have thought of that before you flicked water at me.” He shrugs.

You scoff in shock and gape at him. “How was I supposed to know your reaction to a small flick of water was going to be to want to attack me at the opposite end of the tub and make a fucking tsunami in the procecss?”

“That’s just a risk you take with me Doll.” Jack clicks his tongue and shakes his head with mock solemnity.

You stare at him. He’s going to do it. “You’re cleaning it up.”

“You’ll help.” Jack smirks.

You both know he’s right. “Fuck you.”

That makes Jack grin at you and lunge.

You find yourselves sitting on the balcony now. You’re dry from the tub and wrapped in the big fluffy towel robes the hotel has. Jack had at least managed to angle his lunge so that most of the water was pushed toward the tile wall behind the tub and not on the floor. It hadn’t taken long to mop up with towels.

It’s getting later, closer to time to go to bed. As much as you’d done a good job of ignoring the reality that your trip was ending, it’s harder to now, and some of that sadness is in the air. It grows a bit with the small lull in conversation.

Jack glances down at his watch. He leans back in his chair a little, appreciating how deep the seat is. He stands and moves his chair so that it’s just inside the balcony door. It’s a good height, his feet are flat on the ground when he sits in it. He grabs the small table and drags it to be what he estimates is the right distance from the chair. “Peter?” Your heavy confusion is evident in your voice.

Jack sits back in his chair and beckons you. “Come here, sit on my lap.” You’re never going to turn that down, so you do without really thinking about it. But before you can sit, “Robe off. I want to feel you. You can put it over you like a blanket.” It makes you pause for a second but Jack opens his robe so that it won’t obstruct your skin from touching and so you do as he asks, then sit. “Good girl.” It’s whispered low and right at your ear.

He adjusts you so that your back is against his chest as you pull the robe over your like a blanket as he suggested even though you’re back in the privacy of your room. Your feet instinctively find the edge of the table to rest on and help you balance since you can’t reach the floor like this.

“I love you,” he murmurs, slips his arms from his robe and wraps them around you under yours.

You swallow hard. “I love you too,” you whisper.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, Jack holding you on his lap and you resting your head back against his chest. Jack slips a hand down to your thigh and squeezes to get your attention. “Spread your legs.”

Your heart rate picks up just at his words. “Why?”

You ask the question but do as he says while you do. “Good,” he praises you again. The hand that had squeezed your thighs dips between your legs. “So I can do this.” His finger circles your clit once and then slides down. He smiles at how wet you are. “Always so ready for me,” Jack murmurs against your ear.

“Jack,” you breathe out his name, hand wrapping around his wrist, not to stop him but to anchor yourself. You can feel him growing hard behind you and you grind into him a little.

It makes him grunt a “Fuck.” Jack’s other hand slides up and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing at it before rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger at the same time he slips a finger inside you.

“Oh,” you moan. “More! Please,” you pant. He’s quick to listen to you and slip another finger inside of you with how wet you already are.

Jack’s breathing harder too, cock fully hard and aching with each wiggle of your ass as he makes you squirm. “Is that enough?” You shake your head against him, try to roll your hips in time with his fingers drawing in and out of you as they curl perfectly so that he’ll slide even deeper. “That’s not an answer.”

“No!” The word shakes as you cry it, Jack’s hands already winding you tight.

“Another one?” Jack slides another finger into on this pass and you keen for him, wiggling so much he groans from the stimulation and how it’s not enough. Once you settle again he resumes, works his fingers in and out of you, spreading them inside you sometimes. You’re letting out the softest high pitched moans with each breath you pant out. “This is enough?”

“No,” you shake your head hard. “No, no, I need your cock. Now. Please. I’ll be so good,” you start to babble just a little, “so good for you.”

“You already are being good for me.” His hand stills with his fingers buried in you. “My sweet good girl.” Jack lets out a harsh grunt at how tight your cunt squeezes his fingers at that. “How could I ever say no to you?”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth to suck clean. “You taste so fucking good,” he almost growls. “Makes me want to get you on the bed and just eat you out all night instead.”

You whine at that, torn between the thought of his tongue and his cock as grind yourself back against him. You shake your head. “Need you. Need your cock, please Jack. Tongue later if you want, later.” Jack laughs softly at your conflict and then the desperation with which you ask for his cock. “Cock first Jack, please.”

“Shh,” he soothes you, using one arm to lift you up a little and adjust you into a position that will work to get him inside of you. “I’ve got you Doll. I’ve always got you.” Jack shifts a little. “Help me, yeah?”

Your hand is there almost immediately to help guide him inside of you. “Fuck Jack, fuck fuck fuck.” Every word is moaned out as Jack moves his arm and helps you lower yourself onto him.

The groan Jack lets out once he’s bottomed out in this position is strangled and almost pained. “You are so fucking tight like this Doll,” he’s panting hard now and he hasn’t even started to actually fuck you, “holy fuck.”

“I know,” you whimper, shaking a little from the pleasure already. “You feel even bigger, I feel you everywhere.”

Jack starts to thrust up into you. With the angle there’s not a ton of movement but there’s just enough for his head to rub that spot inside you over and over and over again with every thrust. Your robe eventually falls off but neither of you give the slightest fuck, you’re in the room anyway and plenty warm.

Your hands cling to him, one at the side of this thigh and the other at the upper part of the arm he has diagonal across your chest and tummy, fingertips ghosting teasingly over your collarbone and making you shudder, every so often running along the bottom of your jawline.

Both of you are already panting and struggling to form coherent sentences, when the top of the hour hits and the Eiffel Tower starts sparkling.

“Oh,” your panted breath catches in your throat.

“Thought you might like that,” Jack grunts out as he keeps fucking you. He slows a little though, wants to draw it out.

Jack’s hand slips under the back of your neck and he shifts you to the side a bit so he can see your face better and you his. It’s now his breath that hitches as he takes in you in, eyes roaming your face and chest, greedy and unabashed. The glittering light falling all over your face makes you look unreal, ethereal and divine and how on earth are you his? “Gorgeous,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “You’ll never fucking- fuck” Jack throws his head back for a second as a heavy wave of pleasure rushes through him at the way you clench even tighter at his words before looking back down at you, eyes burning into you hotter than they ever have before, “you’ll never fucking know how perfect you are to me.”

Coupled with the way he’s looking at you as he says them, Jack’s words fully steal your breath for a moment as you stare back at him, go beyond making it harder to breathe. You have never felt more loved or more beautiful than you do right now. And you know that Jack isn’t just saying it solely because he’s in the throes of passion and that he’s not just talking about your looks. He means it all of the time, he thinks it all of the time. You’re always perfect to him, in every way.

“Breathe for me baby,” Jack coos at you through a panted breath out.

The reminder has you taking a shuddery gasp of air in. “Jack, I, I.” You shake your head a little as pressure builds behind your eyes, tears starting to form. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, there’s no real words, just Jack. He nods at you to soothe you and tell you he knows.

It almost feels silly or cliché somehow but there’s something about the sparkling lights that almost makes it more intimate. His eyes look beautiful like this, the flicker of the light showing off every color in them. The constantly moving shadows on his face highlight every feature, highlight just how handsome he is, especially like this, flushed and panting and sweaty. He’s breathtaking. He’s yours. Body, mind and soul. This man has given you all of him, keeps giving it every day.

You somehow get your voice steady enough to whisper to him. “You’re beautiful, Jack.”

His hips stutter at the compliment. Jack’s not sure he’s ever been called beautiful before. There’s a little shake of his head that you catch as the Tower stops sparkling. He’s not disagreeing with you, he’s trying to explain he doesn’t know what to say.

“S’okay, you don’t have to-” You’re cut off by a gasp as Jack’s hips shift. “Oh Jack!” you mewl, “Jack, Jack, Jack. Don’t stop, please don’t, please.” Your reaction tells him he’s found the perfect stroke and so he keeps it. Doesn’t stop or slow down or speed up, just keeps it and revels in the way one of your hands finds his hair and tugs, the other clawing and surely bruising his thigh just above his knee. “You don’t h-have to say anything,” you finally choke out as tears of pleasure hit your eyes, “just know you are.”

Jack holds your eye contact, always does whenever possible. You watch as they grow glassier with every stroke. You talk to each other through looks, thank you and I love you and I can’t believe you’re mine and what did I do to deserve you and you feel so fucking good.

Jack finally breaks the silence with a low “I love you,” like he hasn’t been telling you how much he loves you with his body and eyes this entire time.

“Love you too,” you breathe on a pant out, “love you so much. Please, Jack.”

Jack’s hand finds your clit, starts working you perfectly. He has you memorized and you know it. There’s no lead up, no working his way into the touch you need to come. He’s just there with that touch immediately. Because he needs you to come.

“Fuck Jack!” you moan, jolting at his touch and how direct it is, how he’s so desperate there’s no lead up. “I’m gonna come.”

“I know,” he pants. “Come for me.” With how tight you are Jack knows that seconds after you come he’s going to follow. “Please Doll.” Jack can feel how close you are, rubs at your clit just a little faster as his hips get sloppy. “Need it, Doll. Fuckin need it. Make me come, please.” They’re all choked out and broken with how out of his mind on you he is. He keeps winding you tighter, so tight you still and go silent, become convinced your muscles are going to break all your bones with how deep the pleasure has you clenching them. “Please. Love you so m-much. Need it sweet girl, please.” The last please is cracked and pure desperation. Jack rarely begs but he is right now.

It shatters you.

Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and searing every nerve in your body with unbridled bliss. It’s dizzying, has you clawing at Jack and tugging his hair even harder as you struggle to breathe through it, tears finally sliding down your face as you sob a little, almost unaware of how Jack’s name drips off your tongue so fast they slur together.

Jack is mere seconds behind you, coming with a broken shout of your name. He shakes from the ecstasy of it, from how fucking good you make him feel, wave after wave of pleasure making him breathless as he struggles to cope with the rapture. “Doll,” he groans, over and over, “fuck, you’re so good,” his words are strangled, caught in his throat and forced out because he needs you to hear them, “feels so good, love you, love your pussy, fuck.”

Jack is completely pussy drunk as he fucks you both through the crest, doesn’t still his hips or his fingers on your clit. He drags it out of you, never wants it to stop for either of you, never wants to leave this moment.

But once he feels it ebbing for you he moves his fingers off your clit, leans over you to reach your lips and kiss you. It’s sloppy and breathy and there are moments where he can barely kiss you back with how overrun with pleasure he is. You keep sighing his name, keep whimpering it as tears keep slipping down your face.

His hips keep thrusting as he works himself through it, sloppy and even less movement hunched over you to kiss you but it doesn’t matter. It and how tight you are and how you’re fluttering around him as you try to come back down is enough to drag it out of him and keep him coming.

“Are you?” you breathlessly giggle at him.

“Yes, fuck!” Jack hisses. “You’re too good, pussy’s too good I can’t,” he pants, almost sounds pained by the pleasure, “stop.”

You deliberately clench at his words and it pulls another groan from Jack, pulls a little more cum from him, and a grunted “Fucking shit!” as he stills his hips but pushes up to grind against you a bit.

Jack stops grinding after a few seconds because it becomes too much, rests his forehead against yours as you both shiver with aftershocks for a few minutes. Eventually he brings his head up and rests it against the back of the chair with his eyes closed as he pants and readjusts you, both of you hissing at the movement of him inside you as he does. He wraps his arms around you tighter, and you exchange murmurs of sweet nothings as you both attempt to come back to earth.

“Oh fuck,” Jack pants after a few minutes, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking unreal.”

You giggle at him. “Mm, I’m very real, Peter.” It’s a little slurred.

He just hums at you, words still hard. You sit like that for another couple of minutes, Jack’s hands starting to rub and down you as your fingers draw soft circles in the crease of hips. “I want to get us to bed so we can cuddle properly but I’m not sure if I can walk.”

“I know I can’t,” you laugh. “Cum is going to get everywhere.” It’s already leaking out of you, always does, but with how long and how much he just came it’s going to be worse.

“I’ll get you to bed and eat it out of you,” Jack mumbles. He means it too, as tired as he sounds. He’s not really tired as much as he needs more time to recover.

“I might actually cease to exist if you do,” you tease.

Jack chuckles at that. He knows he’d have to wait too long to give you time to not hit a more painful than pleasurable hypersensitivity the second he started. “Can’t have that.” Jack doesn’t have to say more, doesn’t have to reassure you he’ll take care of you and clean you up. You know he will. He takes in a big breath and lets it out. “Alright, I can feel you getting cold, we’re gonna do it.”

You nod against him and take your feet off the edge of the table and fall forward a bit, Jack slipping out of you in the process, little moans from both of you at it. Jack keeps strong hands on your hips as you stand up, legs just a bit wobbly. He follows you up and gets beside you, wraps an arm tightly around you. It’s actually not as bad as either of you thought, you recovered better than you realized while sitting with each other. Getting to the bed is pretty easy, all things considered.

Jack shuts the patio door and then grabs a washcloth, gets it a little wet with warm water before coming over and cleaning you up. He takes it back to the bathroom and rinses it, leaves it to dry with all the other towels, shaking his head slightly at the sight.

And then he finally climbs into bed with you, rolls on his side and starts pulling you close to him at the same time you move towards him. Once you settle he smiles as he looks at you, his eyes flitting about your whole face before settling on your eyes. “There she is, my pretty girl.”

“My handsome man.” Your voice is rough, a bit ragged from the moaning, but not as bad as after the second proposal.

Jack leans in and kisses you. Just because he can and he loves you and he’s in bed with you in Paris and you’re marrying him.

You look sad when he pulls away, maybe it’s more a preemptive forlornness. “I’m going to miss this,” you murmur.

“I know. I am too.” Jack nods. Because he is. He hates seeing you upset but he wants you to know that he hears you and your feelings are valid before he tries to distract you. “We’ll always have Paris.” He fails to hide the smile that wants to grace his face, corners of his lips twitching up a little.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you just said that.” It worked. You’re smiling now, distracted.

“What?” Jack sings the word a little. “You were supposed to be impressed I can quote Casablanca at will.”

“I don’t think one needs to even have seen Casablanca to know that line.” You love him, him and the way he validates you but coaxes you into a better mood when it’s right.

“Okay but I have.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. “Have you?”

You smirk. “We said no questions.” A little challenge for him.

Jack nods, presses his lips together and pulls them down, raises his eyebrows at you. “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

“Aha!” you laugh, “you really have seen it and you remember it!” A bigger smirk pulls on your face. You want to see how far he’ll go. “Play-”

“I’m not singing As Time Goes By,” Jack cuts you off.

You gape at him a little, smiling as you do. “I love you so much.”

“Did you mean for that to be a quote?” He smirks.

Your jaw slackens a little bit as you smile. “I-” you shake your head. “No. No I did not.”

Jack laughs softly. “I love you more, Doll.”

You shake your head at him, lean in to kiss him, to taste him and consume him and be consumed by him. And then you blink and it’s morning, and blink again and you’re walking back into your apartment together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hawaiʻi is always a good option, especially if you don’t want to go international.”

You and Jack are out on a date. He’d planned it, chosen a nice restaurant where you currently find yourselves, your favorite cuisine, of course. You’re doing something after but he won’t tell you what yet. It’s the weekend after the string of anniversaries. Your second anniversary together which you spent together out doing your favorite things together and getting a couple’s massage and having sex.

That anniversary was followed a month later by the anniversary of the shooting and when you went septic and when you came home. There had been a lot of emotions with these three, but you and Jack got through them together. You didn’t try to ignore the meaning of the day as such, but you did try to take the days back, especially the day of the shooting and the day you went septic. So you spent the days together doing fun things both out and at home and enjoying each other and your time with each other and laughing and being close and having sex and yes, sometimes crying. Jack had thought a date the weekend after the last anniversary passed would just be a nice little thing to do, so he’d planned this.

“You don’t want to go international?” Jack asks.

“No, no I never said that. I’d love to go international. I’d prefer to go international, honestly. I was just thinking out loud.” While you take a sip of your drink you make a little thinking face that Jack finds so adorable. “Fiji looks beautiful. Or any of the Caribbean islands. Bali. Mexico.” You get another bite of your food on your fork but pause before bringing it to your mouth. “We could go ziplining any of those places I bet. Ooh! Or horseback riding on the beach!”

Jack gives you an amused smile while you take your bite. “Anywhere else?”

You bob your head back and forward as you chew while thinking. “I’ve always thought one of those Viking river cruises would be cool! They go a lot of places now I think, and that would be a really cool way to see a region of Europe potentially.” You hum. “A tour of Italy. Or Spain. Or Croatia maybe!” You realize you’ve been doing all of the talking. “What about you? I’ve been the only one throwing places out there, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jack shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “I was having fun listening to you think of places and watching your face as you spoke about them. You’re very cute.” You give him an almost shy shrug and Jack is tempted to end the date here and now and take you home to have his way with you. “I like all of those places. Ireland would be cool I think, especially if we got a car and drove around. I’ve always wanted to do Japan too. Kyoto and Osaka. But then Greece or Crete or Cyprus also sound amazing.”

You nod as he speaks, smirk a little. “You’re going to have one hell of a decision to make, Peter.”

“I am,” Jack laughs softly. “Really depends on what we think we’d like to do on our honeymoon.”

“Each other, ideally. A lot.”

Jack lets out a huffed laugh, he should have seen that one coming. “Well, yes of course. There will be a lot of doing each other I have no doubt, Doll. But you know, do we want to do museums? Do we want to go look at historical sights? Do we want to just lay on the beach all day? Do we want a combination of all three?”

“No, I know what you mean, I was just teasing.” You run your foot up and down his left leg under the table. “I would be happy with any of those, genuinely. I know that’s not particularly helpful, but you could pick wherever you wanted and I’d love it. As long as we’re together.”

Jack smiles at you. He knows how much you mean it and he understands because he feels the same way. You guys could stay at your apartment for a week on a honeymoon and he’d be content. That’s not going to happen on his watch, but still. He knows it’s about the person and to some extent the reason and not so much the place. “That’s very sweet.” He lets his foot brush against the side of yours under the table. “It’s very unhelpful, you’re correct, but it’s very sweet too.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his teasing. “I mean it. And you want to plan the honeymoon and do this as a surprise and I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick a place I said or that we have to do any of the things I said. We have a whole life together to go see all the other places.”

“I know,” he reassures you, “I don’t. I just wanted to hear your thoughts and ideas.”

“Okay.” You nod and finish off your drink. “As long as you know that the honeymoon destination that will make me the happiest wife is the one that you pick because you put the time and effort into thinking about it and picking it and planning it.”

Wife. You say it so nonchalantly but Jack’s brain glitches out and scrambles at the word. Of course he knows you’re going to be his wife, but hearing you refer to yourself as it leaves his mind fuzzy and reeling in the best way. It takes a second for him to process the rest of your sentence.

“Jack? You okay?”

“I’m perfect, Doll. You okay?” The smile he gives you as he says it is so beautiful you curl your toes in your shoes to keep from screaming.

“Yeah,” you nod, “but what was that? Something happened there for a sec.”

Jack’s smile doesn’t fade. He almost feels a little self-conscious in a way, being so affected by it. Sometimes it still fucks with his mind that you are going to be his wife. That you choose him. That he’s lucky enough to get to love you and be loved by you. But you are, and you do, and he is, and there is nothing in the world that makes him happier or prouder and so he doesn’t fucking care that the word got to him.

“Wife.” You raise both of your brows at him, raise your chin a little too in question. “You said ‘honeymoon destination that will make me the happiest wife’ and my brain just got totally snagged on the word wife for a second.” You bite your lip and giggle at him. “Don’t laugh at me!” He’s laughing as he says it, no real meaning or force behind the statement because he knows you’re not really.

“I’m not! I just think it’s cute!” You tilt your head at him. Something about the revelation makes you emotional in a way because you get that way with him and the word husband. And you get that way because it hits you how lucky you are and how much you love him and how proud you are to be his and call him yours, and so the thought of him having those same thoughts about you makes you emotional. “You say husband sometimes and the same thing happens to me, and so I just think it’s cute that it happens to you too.” You shrug a little. You seem almost flustered. “And, I don’t know,” you shake your head slightly, “it just makes me feel good knowing the same thing happens to you when you hear me say wife.”

“Of course it does.” Jack gives you his own shrug. His smile turns a little teasing. “Lots of things you say snag my brain sometimes.”

“Oh? And what things-” You’re interrupted by your waiter asking if he can clear your plates and if you’d like to see the dessert menu. “Yeah, I guess we’ll have a look, thank you.” You take it from him and help him collect your plates. Once he’s gone you look back at Jack to finish your question but he’s smirking and shaking his head. You know he won’t tell you.

“Anything look good?” He asks, nodding at the menu in your hand. You roll your eyes at him, but your smile makes it clear how you really feel.

You look over the menu, hum to yourself a bit as you do. “It all looks good.” You hold the menu out for him to take. “Look, you can practice your decision making skills now and pick for us.”

Jack shakes his head and smirks. “I don’t need the menu. I know exactly what I’m having for dessert.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head. But again, your smile gives you away. You open your eyes back up and keep shaking your head at him. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Mmm,” Jack hums. “Technically you didn’t take me here. I took you here. On the date. That I planned.” You roll your eyes at him. “Let’s skip dessert here. We can get it after the next thing, okay?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I want to know what the next thing is.”

“And so you will soon.” Jack flashes you one of those smiles of his that completely disarms you before turning his head and grabbing the attention of the waiter to get the bill.

Once you and Jack step out of the restaurant you lace your fingers with Jack’s and wrap your other hand around his upper arm. “So do I get to know what we’re doing next now?” You shake him a little bit to show your excitement and emphasize how badly you want to know.

Jack smirks at you and cocks his head. “You know I wasn’t going to tell you.” You pout at that and he brings his free hand up and swipes his thumb over your downturned lip. “But you’re so cute and adorable that I will.” Your eyes widen a little, sparkling in the street light. “We’re going stargazing.”

Your head tilts forward a bit, a confused smile pulling onto your face. “Stargazing?”

“Stargazing.” He nods at you and gives you quite the self-satisfied smile at your reaction. You’d told Jack early into your relationship that you found space and stars incredibly interesting, and that you like looking at constellations and learning about their meaning. He happened to see something in passing that reminded him about it and gave him the idea. “That okay?” Your silence doesn’t worry him, but he just wants to check.

You shake your head a little. “So much more than okay. I love it, thank you.”

“Good, and you’re welcome, the pleasure of setting it up was all mine, Doll.” He offers you his arm and it makes you grin and giggle like a love sick fool. You take it, looping your arm through his and letting him lead you to wherever it is you’ll be stargazing together.

It requires a trip on the light rail and when you get off you’re even more unsure of what exactly Jack’s plan is. You’re near the Steelers’ stadium. “Are we stargazing at the stadium? Are they like doing an event?”

“Nope.” Jack pops the ‘p’ a little and leads you down the street.

“I’m very lost, I don’t think I’ve ever been down here at night.” You pause. “Not sober at least.”

Jack chuckles softly to himself. “Hold on, we’re almost there.” You guys walk a bit more and Jack stops. “We’re here.”

“This is where we’re stargazing?”

Jack points to the building up just a bit in front of you. “The planetarium.” You look where he’s pointing, the hand not holding his coming to rest over your lips. “I saw that they were doing late night programs and it made me think of you. You said you liked stars and space once, constellations. I’d love to take you real stargazing, and I promise to one day, but I wasn’t sure how long it would be until we could steal away to somewhere with a lot less light pollution. So I thought this was a nice compromise. I know we might not be able to talk as much as if we were out in the middle of nowhere, but at least we’ll have someone explaining what shit is. There’s a couple different shows we can see too.” He thinks it’s ridiculous how his heart rate speeds up, how he’s engaged to you and seen you almost die and been with you for more than two years and he’s still nervous about whether you like his date idea.

“Compromise?” You laugh breathlessly as you turn back to him. “Jack, this is… incredible. I…” You close your mouth and laugh a little. “I’m kind of speechless. I had to have told you that back when we first started dating. I want to say I can’t believe you can remember but fuck,” you shake your head a bit, “I think you just remember everything about me.”

“I try to keep track of it all. Sometimes I get lucky and my memory gets pinged, like when I saw the poster for this.” He lets out a breath. “Okay, good. I’m glad you like it, I got kind of worried there for a second.”

“I more than like it Jack.” You slip your hand from his so that you can take his face in your hands. You smile at him and you’re sure it looks as gooey and in love as you feel. He knows that look.

Jack stifles a laugh. “You wanna say it together?” You keep the smile but scoff a little. “What? You get a look. It’s this very particular smile. I know what it means.” You squeeze his face a little and take a small breath in.

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you and Jack say in unison. He beams as he shakes his head at you, laughing softly and looking at you like you personally hung the moon and all of the stars you’re about to go see together just for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the anniversaries pass you and Jack really start to focus on wedding planning. While you didn’t want a two year engagement because you both just wanted to be married already, you knew it was the right call. You didn’t want the first anniversary of the shooting to fall a month and a bit after the wedding, since you’d chosen your anniversary as your date. And you needed the extra year for that day to fall on a Saturday, so you both felt it was just meant to be.

The first thing you end up really doing for the wedding is your registry. You weren’t even going to make a registry until Dana found out and convinced you that you should. It’s a spur of the moment thing one weekend. You haven’t done anything for the wedding really but you have a date and that’s enough to start a registry so you decide to go do it even though it seems out of order. It makes a great date for the two of you that has you laughing and dreaming about your future together. Neither of you expect anything from anyone. You make a couple at different places, to give people options. And because it’s fun to do.

You and Jack browse Crate and Barrel. You don’t know why the sight of him in Crate and Barrel makes you a little giggly, but it does. “An espresso machine.” Jack cocks his head at it. “What do we need an espresso machine for?” he asks, scanning it in anyways despite his question.

“Espresso.” You offer no further explanation.

Jack stops walking and lets out a deep sigh, hanging his head for a second and then shaking it to himself. But you both know he loves it, the sass. “You hardly drink espresso,” Jack points out.

You shrug as you keep perusing. “Well maybe I would drink more if we had an espresso machine.”

“You really want someone to buy us an espresso machine?”

“Nobody is actually going to buy us an espresso machine. People know us better than that. And if they don’t then that’s what returns are for.” You turn around and smile at him. He’s shaking his head at you but wears a smile.

“And when whoever gets it for us wants to come over and doesn’t see it out on the counter?” He raises his eyebrows in a little challenge as he walks closer to you and uses his free hand to squeeze your hip.

You contemplate for a second. “We’ll make a list of people we can never invite over. Or we’ll keep the espresso machine.”

Shortly after making your registries you nail down a venue. It’s fairly overwhelming trying to find one in Pittsburgh because of the sheer number of options. And that’s just if you stay in Pittsburgh and don’t consider the surrounding areas. “I don’t know, Doll, I’m not good with that stuff. With words.” You and Jack are driving around the city looking at different options today.

“I don’t know, Jack, the speech you gave as you proposed was pretty damn good.” Jack throws you a look. “They don’t have to be flowery or some crazy level of poetic beauty or whatever. All they have to be are vows from you. From your heart. I’m going to love them no matter what as long as they come from you. It’s not like I’m some poetic master.” You put your hand over his where it rests on your thigh. “If you really don’t want to, I’m not going to make us I just-”

“No,” he cuts you off because he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. “It’s not that I don’t want to, at all. I do want to. I don’t want us to get up there and only say the traditional vows. I like the idea of personal vows, I want that.” He lets out a big sigh. “I’m just concerned about my ability to… execute.”

“Can you name a challenge you took on and failed to rise to the occasion and execute?” You trace random shapes on the back of his hand, wait for an answer. One never comes. “That’s what I thought, because I know I’ve never seen it happen. Why don’t we plan to do them, and if we get closer and you’re concerned then we can revisit, yeah?”

Jack shakes his head as he pulls into a parking spot at the next place. He turns to look at you once he’s parked. “We’re doing them. No reevaluating. I want to do them. I have a lot to say to you, a lot to promise you.”

You beam at him. “I have a lot to say to you and promise you too.” You lean over the center console and push your lips out for a kiss that he’s happy to give you. “Come on. Maybe this will be the place we do all of our saying and promising.”

This place will overwhelmingly not be where you and Jack get married. It is comically bad. You and Jack are both having to focus hard on not losing it with laughter.

The person showing you around is blissfully oblivious to your guys’ struggle. It’s not even so much that the place is bad, it’s how different it is than the photos you saw online. Your brain is truly hurting trying to figure out where the photos you saw online were taken and how the spaces could have ever looked like the photos.

“I would love to know who took the online photos for them because they sure are talented,” Jack whispers as you follow the man into the reception room.

“Same, I’d hire them for our wedding in a second.” You have to swallow hard right after saying it to keep from laughing.

You and Jack both walk around the space and pretend to be interested as the man continues to talk about all the various features of the room. You make the mistake of glancing up and over at Jack. He’s not even looking at you, he’s standing behind the man showing you around who is somehow still talking about the features of the room staring at him with a look of concerned horror mixed with bewilderment.

You spin so that you’re facing a wall and neither Jack nor the man, hand flying to clamp over your mouth as you bite your lip hard to keep from laughing. You walk away a bit, standing over near a random swatch of carpet embedded in one corner of the dancefloor.

“Oh, yes!” The man calls to you and you shake your head to yourself a bit, have to let out a small scoffed laugh just to ease some of the tension in you. “The dance floor is great, isn’t it! A great size and the flooring is beautiful.”

You nod. “Yeah, it’s so pretty,” you force out, voice a couple of octaves higher as you hold in your laughter. You don’t have to be looking at Jack to know his eyes snap to you, the shit-eating grin that pulls up on his face radiating off him even from across the room.

You already know he’s on his way over to you so you take a couple of deep breaths and pull yourself together. You focus on the wall in front of you. You know that if you look at Jack you’ll break.

“Everything alright, Dear?” Jack asks in a whisper as he walks up to stand next to you all fake saccharine and concern in his tone. The man has launched into some tale about some famous Pittsburgh native who had their wedding here.

“I’m great.” You nod, swallowing hard. “I’m really great.”

“You sure?” He’s smirking now. “You can’t even meet my eyes.”

“I’m not looking at you. And you know why.” You shake your head, keep your eyes focused on the wall in front of you.

“But I have a very cute face. You tell me so all the time.” You can hear his pout.

“Jack,” you warn, lips twitching up.

“Okay! Okay!” The way he gave it up so quickly has you on edge.

“Jack. I swear to god.” You do your best to sound stern but there’s too much of a laughing lilt to your voice to be at all effective.

“I said okay!” he protests. You’re still suspicious.

And you’re right to be. You and Jack move across the room and get a bit closer to the man, do your best to pretend you’re interested in the story and the space. You make the mistake of looking away so that Jack is no longer in even your peripheral vision. And that’s when he makes his move, casually reaching his hand towards you and pinching your ass.

“Jack!” You manage to keep your shrill laughed yell of his name at a relative whisper as you bat away his hand. The only thing that saves you from cracking up is your very smart choice not to look at Jack.

Not quiet enough though. The man turns around. “Pardon?”

You’re immediately grabbing Jack and turning him, pretending to point at something across the room. Your voice is still a couple octaves higher as you fight back the laughter. “Oh, I was just pointing… that out to him.” You smile and nod at the guy. It evidently placates him enough because he launches straight back into whatever his current story is about.

“That? That is what you came up with?” Jack whispers, finally looks like you’re making him struggle to keep from laughing.

“I couldn’t pick one of the many fucking thats in the room fast enough!” This time you reach out to poke his side but he’s too fast, catches your hand with a smug grin. But you’ve played this game enough times with Jack.

While he focuses on the hand he ends up catching you’re subtly moving your other hand near him. So the second that smug grin hits you poke his side, arching a brow and giving him his own smug grin back when he jolts and lets out half a laugh that he then pretends was a cough.

You look away from him and take a few steps away because it’s getting to be too much again. “Jack.” Another warning as he comes up behind you again, still too much laugh in it for it to be particularly effective.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You believe him this time, can hear it in his voice. He presses his lips to your temple.

“You better be,” you whisper. You can feel him smile and give you another kiss there before pulling away.

Mercifully, the man concludes the tour and asks if you’d like to come in to book a date and discuss options. You’ve recovered enough to let him know you guys are going to look at a few more just to be sure.

Both you and Jack are surprised when the guy appears to be fine with that and doesn’t insist you come back to his desk for some hard sell. You’re sure fucking grateful for it though because there’s no fucking way you guys would have kept it together at a table with this man.

The man walks you to your car which you both find odd, but the look you exchange is an agreement that the move fits the vibe of the place.

You had both been doing so well, no longer on the verge of tears of laughter. But then the man tells you what weddings start at for the event and you both have to stifle laughs because there is no fucking way anybody is paying that much for this. You just nod at the guy and accept the second brochure he gives you as he tells you that if you guys decide to do the wedding here he can offer you a thirty percent discount.

Jack decides this is the perfect time to return to your little game.

“Thank you very much, we’ll be in-” Jack chooses then to pinch your ass again, making you blurt out half a laugh that you somehow manage to stop from devolving into the fit of laughter you have the urge to break into. You clear your throat. “We’ll be in touch, thank you.”

You stand there frozen and smiling until the man is far enough away and then let out a long breath. Jack pinches your ass again.

“Oh my god! Jack Daniel Abbot!” you shrill as you turn to him. “You were so trying to make me come unglued in there and out here you asshole!” It’s all bark and absolutely no bite. You’re not mad or even really trying to chide him. You love it.

“Oh?” Jack laughs. “Whisky on your mind, lover? Because I know my middle name isn’t Daniel and I know you know that.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “It just came out okay! It’s just what rolled off my tongue in the moment because I’m so mad at you!”

“Oh no, you’re not mad at me. Not even a little. You fucking love it.” Jack smirks, looking like the cat who got the cream. And he’s right and he knows it.“But would you like to see what can roll off my tongue in the moment?”

For whatever reason that’s what makes you crack. That comment. Within seconds you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe, and Jack is right behind you.

“That was so bad,” you almost whisper through your laughter. You both laugh so hard you go soundless, laugh so hard it hurts and you both cry. You end up leaning into Jack to help stay standing because you can’t stop fucking laughing.

“I can’t breathe,” you laugh, keep laughing even after you say it, tears dripping from your eyes.

“If you can laugh and talk you can breathe,” Jack manages to get out, wiping away some of his own tears of laughter.

“Oh,” you give him a fake glare through your tears, “don’t you get fucking medical with me right now, Dr. Abbot.”

You both start to calm down, laughter trailing off and giving way to sniffles and coughs to clear your throats, the occasional giggle from both of you. Jack gives one last huff of a laugh. “Come on, Doll. Let’s get in the car.”

Jack’s hand finds the small of your back and he leads you the little bit of the way left to the car, opening the passenger door for you and shutting it once you’re in. You’ve been together over two years now and him opening and closing the door for you still makes you melt. It’s just so Jack in a way you don’t know how to describe.

Jack gets in the car and closes his door and you both let out long breaths at the same time before spending a moment in a comfortable silence, both of you thinking back on that entire tour.

“That was certainly…” you trail off, giving a long shake of your head as you look for the word.

“Something,” Jack fills in for you. “That was certainly something.”

You and Jack burst back into laughter. It doesn’t last anywhere near as long this time, but you both get a little teary again because the whole thing is so fucking absurd.

“Is it bad…” Jack trails off, sniffling and wiping some tears from his eyes as he laughs a little more. “Oh god,” he sniffles again, “is it bad that it’s so bad it almost makes me want to get married there?”

You shake your head, laughing harder for a second. “No. No, because I had the same thought for a second. It would be so bad it would be good. It’s like The Room.” The thought makes your laughter pick back up for a second before you both finally start to come down.

“We’re not going to actually do it though, right?” Jack asks as you both recover from all the laughing.

“No.” You shake your head a bit as you sniffle and wipe the last of your tears off your face. “Absolutely not, no.”

“Alright then let’s get out of here.” Jack leans over the center console and gives you a quick kiss.

“Yes,” you type the next venue into your phone so the directions show on the car’s infotainment screen, “let’s.”

This time, you both fall in love with the venue almost immediately. It’s perfect for the two of you and just the right size for your smaller and more intimate wedding. You and Jack wander up and stand at the place you think you’ll set up the altar, turn to face each other and hold hands. “What do you think?” you ask him quietly.

“I think that this is where I’m going to be standing the first time I see you in your wedding dress,” he smiles.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You love it?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Jack wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. “Wanna practice the best part?” You giggle as you nod and wrap your arms around Jack’s neck. Jack’s smiling as he leans in to kiss you. It’s lingering but chaste. Jack pulls away from you and you’re immediately back to smiling at one another. He leans in for another kiss and this time he catches you by surprise when he dips you and you feel him laugh against your lips. He brings you back up, keeps holding onto you. “We have a venue.”

You nod, still smiling, probably look like a love drunk fool but you don’t care. “We have a venue.”

The next item crossed off the list is a dress for you. You keep your group small, a friend from work and Dana, Heather and Mel, the Pitt crew you’ve become the closest with through all of this.

You stand at the desk with the four of them, Robby, and Jack. Dana had put in for a half shift so she could attend and you’re collecting her on your way to the store. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come? Robby can handle it here by himself.”

“Excuse me? Have you looked at the board?” Robby points up to it.

“I’m sure.” You give Jack a knowing smile. “You get to see it on the day when I’m at the top of the aisle my love.”

“Alright, I just thought I’d offer.” Jack holds up his hands. You know he’s dying at the thought a little. It’s one thing for him to know you’ll be getting a wedding dress. It’s another for him to know you have a wedding dress and he can’t see it.

“You’ll be fine Jack.” Dana swats at him.

“You know I could come? If you’d like a male perspective,” Robby offers. “Jack can handle it here by himself.” You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing, Dana not even trying to hide her snicker while your friend, Heather and Mel turn their heads.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Jack hisses. “Michael does not get to see my wife in her wedding dress before I do!”

Nobody comments on his slip. On the way Jack just called you his wife. You bite your lip even harder at it and look to the side and exchange glances with Mel, who shoots you a wide eyed look of excitement and surprise at it.

You look over at Robby and smile. “I appreciate the offer Robby, but I think the five of us will make out okay. You guys ready?” You look at the group. When everyone agrees you turn your attention back to Jack, walk over to give him a quick kiss. “Have a good day at work, Peter.”

“Have fun dress shopping.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod at him and the five of you leave out the ambulance bay doors. It’s not a long trip to the wedding dress shop you found, a short ride on the light rail and up a few blocks. Your consultant is nice, asks what you’re looking for. You’re not really sure and not trying to box yourself into anything so you’re kind of open to anything. You tell her about the venue, the general feeling you’d like the dress to have, your budget and trust her to go pick the dress.

It’s strange sitting in the dressing room. You think back on everything, your whole relationship with Jack, how much you’ve already been through together. You fidget with the ring on your finger as you wait. He really did do a great job picking out a ring and you love that it’s bespoke and so yours alone.

Eventually your consultant returns with an overwhelming amount of sparkle and tulle and lace and chiffon and silk organza and taffeta in every shade of white and some blush tones. You start trying them on. You try on five or six, come out to show your party four of them. You all agree that none have been quite right. You get closer as you try on dresses but it’s hard not to feel a bit discouraged. You want to find the one so badly.

Once you’re out of the last dress your consultant runs back to the stockroom, tells you she thinks she’s thought of the perfect dress. You take a little gasp when she walks in with it and shows it off to you. It’s stunning just on the hanger. Just having it on before you turn to see yourself you already feel like it’s the one. The dress you’re supposed to marry Jack in.

“Oh wow,” you breathe as you turn around and look at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room. Tears start to form but you do your best to blink them away. You head out to show the group and you aren’t even conscious of it, but you’re beaming.

You get up on the pedestal and face yourself in the mirror. The dress highlights all the right places, the color goes perfectly with your skin tone and makes you look glowy. But most importantly it makes you feel good, which can be so hard for you to find. As you take yourself in you realize the dress makes you feel how Jack makes you feel when he looks at you. Special and beautiful.

“What do you guys think?” Your consultant helps you turn towards them.

“That’s the one.” Dana smiles back at you.

“Unquestionably,” your friend agrees.

Heather and Mel agree as your consultant brings over some accessories including a beautiful veil for you to decide on. You turn back and look at yourself in the mirror all done up and are handed a tissue because you get so teary. It’s perfect.

“You guys think Jack will like it?” you ask.

All of them laugh a little at that and you half turn back around. “What?” You give a little laugh too because of the looks on their faces.

“As cliché as it is, you could walk down the aisle in a trash bag and Jack would love it and think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.” Heather smirks at you.

“He’s going to love this. You look so, so beautiful.” Mel beams at you. “And gorgeous and stunning.”

“He’s going to fucking lose it when he sees you,” your friend laughs softly, squeezing Dana’s arm as Dana leans into her a little to show her agreement.

“He’ll cry.” Dana nods, a little teary herself. You know she has a special relationship with Jack, that they’ve known each other a long time and she, like Robby, has seen him through some of the worst moments of his life, helped save him too.

“He fucking better,” you laugh through a sniffle, blotting at your eyes. You look back at yourself in the mirror and get a bit teary again. “It just makes it so real, you know? We’re really getting married. I’m getting married to him in this dress.”

“So you’re saying yes?” Mel asks, huge smile on her face.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes. This is my wedding dress.” Everyone claps and gets up to give you hugs. You take some photos of course and then get everything bought, get told to make sure you have your shoes by the time of your first alteration appointment. The five of you grab an early dinner and then you head home and wait for Jack.

You’re chilling on the couch with your feet laid out on it, head propped up a bit with a pillow and the armrest, scrolling and watching tv. You’re in one of Jack’s old oversized t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts. The way you’re laying on the couch though makes it seem like you have nothing on under them. You hear the sound of the door unlocking and Jack step in. “Honey, I’m home!” he calls out teasingly as he drops his bag and gets his shoes off. “Well,” Jack drawls, voice lower than normal, walking towards the couch, “this is a sight I could get very used to.”

You laugh and affectionately roll your eyes at him as he starts to crawl up the couch between your legs. You drop your phone to the side and widen your hips to help accommodate him. “Hi.” You smile at him and give him the kiss he seeks. Jack lowers himself so that he’s laying on you, chest to chest with his head resting to one side. He can hear your heartbeat and lets out a big sigh, shoulders sagging a bit. “Long day?”

“Yeah. Not a bad one, just long.” You start running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and it makes Jack hum, nuzzle into your chest. “That constant kind of busy that’s just draining some days.” He can’t help but let out another hum of contentment as you let him lay on you and scratch his scalp and let him listen to your heartbeat and smell you. Let him become enveloped by you. It’s always so relaxing. Sometimes he falls asleep and you stay like that until he wakes up hungry and realizing you both need dinner.

He lets out another big sigh, this one full of fake hardship. “Plus I had to spend all day thinking about my fiancée out getting her wedding dress and knowing she won’t show me or give me a hint about it.” He playfully bites at your chest over his shirt, his voice so deliberately overdramatic it makes you laugh. “You find one?” You can hear the smile in his voice now.

“I did, yeah.” He can hear the smile in your voice now. You don’t say anything more, in part because you have nothing else to say and in part because you know he’s going to comment.

When you don’t speak he fills the silence like you knew he would. “You wanna show me? Give me something? A little hint?”

He can feel the vibrations of the quiet laugh his words pull from you. “Not particularly, no.” Jack makes a little noise of protest. “Alright. A trade.” Jack nuzzles into you again in acknowledgment. “You can see me and the dress if I can know where we’re going for our honeymoon.”

“No!” Jack says immediately. “I want it to be a surprise.”

His head moves with your chest as you laugh properly at that. “That’s how I feel about my dress.” You let one of your hands come up to his face, brush your thumb over his cheekbone. “You know I’ve never actually seen you in your dress blues, so really your dress blues are your dress.”

“I’ll show you a photo of me in my dress blues if you’ll show me a photo of you in your dress,” Jack is quick to offer as an alternative trade even though he knows it’s in vain.

“Nope.” You pop the p. “I’ll wait to see you just like you’ll wait to see me.”

You decide not to wait on wedding bands though, not to pick them out for each other and have them be a surprise for the other like some couples prefer to do. You guys want the experience of going in and doing it together.

You go, of course, to the local store where Jack got your engagement ring. The owner is thrilled to meet you and see the woman he helped Jack design the ring for. You talk about wedding bands and what you’re looking for. You guys walk around and pick a couple out and then the owner brings over more options, from simple metal bands to more intricate bands with diamonds for you, a couple of men’s options with diamonds too.

Jack picks one he likes and slips it on his finger. He looks down at it as he clenches his fist to see how the band thickness feels before straightening it back out. It hits him, how he’s really going to be married. To you. And seeing a ring on Jack’s finger levels you in a way you weren’t expecting.

“Wow.” It’s a little breathy, the way you say it. It makes Jack look over at you. “I thought getting the dress made it feel real, but this, you with a wedding ring on… wow.” You look up at Jack and give him an equally breathy laugh.

“Yeah,” he breathes back, clearly also a bit dazed. “Put one on,” he encourages.

You take your engagement ring off, pick one and slide it on, stare down at your hand. “I know you’ve had a ring on but still,” Jack swallows thickly.

“It’s a wedding ring,” you murmur, staring down at your hand. You slide your engagement ring back on and hold your hand out again, the wedding ring you tried on sitting nicely underneath it. “That’s so wild.”

Jack starts laughing because that’s such a you thing to say. He leans into you and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too,” you hum back. You both try on quite a few more. It’s easier for the two of you to pick one for Jack than it is for you. You’re overwhelmed by all the options. “I’m glad I didn’t have to pick out the engagement ring,” you mumble.

Jack nods with you. “I’m glad I just saw the ring and knew it was almost perfect. And I’m glad we’re picking this one out together.”

“I don’t know how to decide. They’re all so pretty.” You wiggle your ring finger a bit so the diamonds catch the light as you evaluate the current option you’re wearing. You take it off and then look over the tray of rings you haven’t tried. One catches your eye. It’s over in the corner of the tray by happenstance so it was easy for you to overlook with all of the choices. You recognize it as one of the ones Jack had picked out when you were looking around. You slip it on and evaluate by itself. It’s perfect. You slide your engagement ring on top and it remains perfect, the wedding ring complementing your engagement ring as though they were made to be worn together, even with their differences.

You hold your hand up again, wiggle it. “I really love that look,” Jack murmurs. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” you agree. “It’s perfect.” You pull your eyes from the rings and look up at Jack who’s already looking down at you with a soft smile. “This is the one. This is my wedding ring.” You lean up and kiss him. You keep it chaste and short since you’re in public with the owner nearby. “You picked it out, you know.”

Jack nods, eyes earnest and crinkling a bit at the corners with the small smile he wears. “Yeah I remember. I had a feeling. But I didn’t want to pressure you. And I promise I don’t love it just because I’m the one who picked it out.”

“I know, I never thought that.” You look back down at your hand and grab his left hand, place yours on top, fingers offset by one so that his wedding ring sits next to your engagement and wedding rings. “We have our wedding rings.”

Jack grins at you, eyes sparkling like the gemstones surrounding you. “We have our wedding rings.”

About five months out from the wedding you go catering and cake tasting. Jack loves to pretend he doesn’t have a sweet tooth but you know he does. It’s why you love baking for him so much, because you know he loves it and enjoys everything you make. You know his likes well by now. He likes sweet but not too sweet.

“That’s alotta fucking cake.” Jack’s eyebrows are raised as he watches the woman bring the big tray of cake samples over to you.

“Well,” you have to fight back a laugh at the way Jack said alotta fucking cake. “We certainly won’t be able to say we didn’t have options.” The woman sets the tray down. Each small slice of cake has a number in front of it, and she hands you a piece of paper that describes each of the cakes as identified by their corresponding number. “We need a whole ass pamphlet to explain what the options are.” Jack snorts at that, pulls his phone out and takes a photo quickly. “An experience you don’t want to forget?”

“I’m sending it to Robby.” He glances at you and you quirk an eyebrow at him. “He wanted to come to the cake tasting so fucking bad.”

“So you’re showing him what he’s missing out on?” You smirk at Jack.

“No, I am encouraging him to find someone so that he can have his own cake tasting. I’m tempted to send it in the group chat with Dana so that she gets on his ass about it.” He looks so amused with himself you have to chuckle. Jack puts his phone back on the table next to yours. “Sorry. Just had to do that. I’m focused now.”

You laugh softly and lean into Jack a little, each of you holding the pamphlet with one hand. “Lemon blueberry with tangerine icing is interesting.”

“I bet it’s good, though. Refreshing. Oh, espresso ganache,” Jack has to hold back a laugh. “How fancy.”

“I think you’re going to like that.” You point to a different one. “Ginger-infused cake with cognac. I think that’s the one that says fancy.”

“Espresso ganache? You really think I’m going to like that? I prefer my coffee black, my americanos black. Not with mocha or whatever else. Ginger cognac does sound fancier though. I bet it’s good.”

“I am quite certain you’ll like it in the context of a cake.” You keep looking. “Almond. I like a nice simple almond cake. Oh fuck, cannoli cake I bet that’s so good, it has cannoli filling layers.”

“Yeah but their almond cake isn’t going to beat yours, so. I’m not convinced about the ganache.” Jack shrugs. You smile to yourself at his compliment. “English lavender with earl grey buttercream is probably good. Red velvet. But again, yours is so good. Glazed donut is interesting, but okay. Butterscotch bourbon, that’s probably really good. Oh, here’s the winner. Sultry chocolate cake. Not just chocolate cake. Sultry chocolate cake.”

“It sounds like something for the honeymoon suite. Imagine having to put that on the placard things or whatever that tell people what the cake is. Sultry chocolate cake. And you haven’t tried the ganache yet, of course you’re not convinced.” You take in a breath and look up at Jack. “I think we just have to start trying. Unless there are any you want to eliminate right away.”

“We’re here now with them in front of us. Might as well try them all.” Jack shrugs. “How about starting with the strawberry champagne cake?” You nod and Jack grabs the slice and sets it in front of you. You each take a bite and make a little noise of appreciation at how good it is. You keep trying new flavors, some immediately being taken out of contention.

“Let’s try the glazed donut. I feel like it’s going to be kind of weird,” You say as you grab the plate and bring it in front of you both. “Like if you want the taste of glazed donut at your wedding just have fucking glazed donuts.”

Jake takes a bite and hums in appreciation. It’s not bad. “Donuts aren’t as elegant.”

You fake roll your eyes at him as you take a bite. You shrug. “It’s not terrible, but I just come back to have donuts.”

“Agree, it’s not bad but also not going to be our wedding cake flavor.” Jack nods. You both look over the pamphlet and try a few more, a couple of which you’re really considering.

“Cannoli next?” He knows this one will likely end up in the serious contenders section of the table, clears a spot for it. Jack grabs the slice and sets it in front of the two of you, takes a forkful.

“I’d always rather be your cannoli than glazed donut,” you hum softly as Jack starts to chew.

Jack chokes a little, managing to get the bite down in stuttering gasps, coughing and reaching for the bottle of water they’d given you as you pat his back and bite your lip. You feel bad, you hadn't meant to make him choke. Once he settles you take a bite of the cake. Unsurprisingly, it’s really fucking good.

“What did you just say?” Jack’s finally able to whisper, voice a bit scratchy.

You furrow your brows in feigned innocence. “That I’d always rather have cannoli cake than glazed donut cake?”

“No,” Jack draws the word out and gives a little laugh. “I don’t think so.” You deepen the furrow of your brow in mock confusion. “I think you should admit it, lest you end up my glazed donut for a while.”

You snort. “Please. You love filling your cannoli way too much. I’d be your glazed donut maybe once before I was back to being your cannoli.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jack narrows his eyes at you.

“No.” You pull your lips down and shake your head as you take another bit of the cake on your fork. You look back up at Jack. “It’s a statement of fact, Peter.” You finish bringing the fork to your mouth and take the bite while maintaining eye contact with him.

“Oh,” he laughs out the word softly. “Is it now?”

“Mhhhm,” you nod as you keep your mouth closed and chew. “And I love that fact about you so much, because like I said, I’d always rather be your cannoli than glazed donut.”

“Good,” Jack nods, trying his hardest to seem unaffected and succeeding in relation to everyone except for you. “Thank you for saying it.”

“I think it should go in the serious contender area.” You flick your chin at the cake.

“I already made a space Doll.” Jack gives you a little smirk. “I know you and your tastes very well by now.”

You try a few more, none of which either of you really cares for. Then Jack goes to try the cake featuring the espresso ganache. You look at him expectantly with a little smirk on your face. You can see him fighting to keep his face neutral as he tries it. “Okay. I’ll admit it. You were right, it’s actually really fucking good.”

“See!” You poke at his tummy. “I know you and your tastes very well, Jack Abbot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack takes another bite. “I think this is actually one of my favorites. You could totally recreate this at home I bet. I could have it for every birthday or special occasion.”

You consider it as you take another bite. You probably could. But then a slow smirk draws on your face and you look at Jack. You can’t help yourself. “Jack, my love. My darling. Love of my life. Do you know what making this at home would require?” Jack shakes his head while working on another bite. Your smirk grows. “An espresso machine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can tell by the way he unlocks the door and steps in. He doesn’t say anything as he locks the door behind him. Jack just drops his bag and looks at you.

“Rough shift?” You grimace a little just from his expression. He looks demoralized almost, which is rare for him.

Jack walks over and sits next to you on the couch, leaning in to grab a kiss before answering. It feels a little different than his usual home from work kisses, lasts a little longer.

“You could say.” He lets himself sink back into the couch. You wait, see if he wants to volunteer more. Jack shakes his head a little. “Just lost a few people, more than usual.” You reach over and squeeze his thigh, move a bit closer to him and lean on him a bit. You know feeling close to you can help.

“I’m sorry it was a bad day, Peter,” you murmur. You know that there’s not much you can say that will help right now. This is one of those parts of Jack’s job that hits much harder some shifts than others and no words will take it away or fix it. All you can do is listen and be here for him and let him know he doesn’t have to bear it alone.

“No kids.” Jack shrugs. “I guess at least there’s that.” Jack’s hands grab your hand from his thigh, hold it between his.

It’s a cover. There’s something about the way he says it, his tone and the particular mannerism of his shrug and the way he picks up and holds your hand between his. You nod to yourself slightly. He can’t say it out loud. Either can’t or doesn’t want to. But you know.

“How far away was the wedding?” you whisper.

Jack lets out a pained laugh. “Fuck,” he mutters. He squeezes your hand and you know he’s saying thank you for knowing and seeing me and understanding and asking when I couldn’t say it. “Six months.” You rest your other hand on the top of his and squeeze gently. “And now he’s going home alone with a funeral to plan and a wedding to cancel. God, and I feel so fucking selfish and like a terrible person for saying this with what that guy is going through but I really could have done without having to watch him slide her engagement ring off her finger.” The fingers of his bottom hand instinctively search for yours.

You wince at his words, heart aching at the thought of him having to watch that scene unfold. “Thinking that doesn’t make you selfish Jack, it makes you human.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jack drops your hand and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t want to dwell. It was just a rough day.”

You respect his wish, don’t keep talking about it or try and get him to open up to you about it more right now. He’s told you that’s not what he needs. “Can I get you anything? Beer? I could go draw you a bath?”

Jack finally turns his head as it rests against the couch to look at you. “No.” Jack reaches for you, grabs at one of your hips and thighs. You get that message too and slide yourself onto his lap so that you sit perpendicular to him. Jack rests his forehead against the side of your neck for a second and breathes deep before pulling back. “I just want to be here with you for a bit.”

“Then here for a bit is where we’ll be.” You give him an adoring smile and lean in closer to him, cup his face with your hands. You kiss all over his face, but not in a flurry like you do sometimes. You take your time, plant each kiss deliberately and linger it for just a second to make sure Jack really feels it. You start at his hairline, move back across his forehead. You kiss each of his eyebrows and the space between them, his temples and then his eyelids, soft lashes fluttering against your lips. You kiss his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheeks and then the tip of his nose. You kiss the skin around his mouth, the bottom of his cheeks, and then his jawline and chin. And then you kiss his lips and Jack takes over.

You yield to him, let him take control and deepen it, your hands sliding down to hold onto his scrub top as Jack licks into your mouth and groans. He’s needed this all day, all fucking day. Needed you. He doesn’t even need more, he just needs you, in some capacity. Eventually the two of you are forced apart by the need for oxygen.

“I’m here,” you murmur.

Jack takes in a big breath and lets it out a bit shakily. “Yeah,” he brings his hands up to cup your face, looks you in the eyes. “You are.” You let yourself lean into Jack, rest your head on his shoulder as his arms wrap around you to keep you close. You just sit like that for a while, let Jack hold you and feel you and come down from work.

“So I was thinking,” Jack starts.

You can’t help yourself. “Uh-oh, we’re in trouble now.”

Jack rolls his eyes at you and clicks his tongue, but he’s grateful for it, the way you help shift the mood. He needs it, to have a good night with you, the two of you just being normal together. “I was thinking that once we’re back from our honeymoon and have settled for a couple of months, what if we started looking at houses? Or a townhouse? Condo even, I guess. Something that’s ours. That we own together. As the Abbots.”

You pull yourself up from resting on him and blink at him for a moment, brain processing what Jack just asked. Not in a bad way, in a holy shit you can’t believe this man just asked if you wanted to buy a house together way. “You want to buy a house with me?”

Jack bites back a smile. “I want to do everything with you, Doll. Part of the reason I asked you to marry me.”

“No! I know, I don’t doubt that or you, I’m sorry if I made it seem that way-”

“You didn’t,” Jack interrupts to quell your worry, one hand rubbing your back. “It was a very adorable reaction.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a little laugh. “I don’t know, I know it’s only like four months away, but sometimes I still can’t believe I’m going to be your wife and you’re going to be my husband. And we’re going to be the Abbots.”

Jack squeezes your hip a bit at wife. “I get it. Sometimes I still can’t believe it either.” He lets out a bit of a sigh. “You know what would help me believe it more and make it even more real?”

“Oh I have a feeling I do,” you mutter, eyes preemptively rolling.

“Seeing you in your wedding dress.” There’s the slightest edge of hope in his voice even though Jack knows you’re not going to say yes. Doesn’t stop him from giving you his biggest puppy eyes though.

“There it is.” You shake your head at him. “Not happening, sir.” You pause for a second. “But I do think it’s kind of cute how you keep trying.” You boop his nose and he moves his head up to playfully try and bite your finger. “To answer your question though, I would like that. A lot.”

A slow smile spreads over Jack’s face. “Yeah?” He nods once as he says it.

“Yeah.” You nod too and lean in to kiss him. “I want to buy a house or something with you.” You run your hands through his hair and tug at his curls just slightly as you kiss him again, a little way you have of saying you love him.

“That reminds me,” Jack breathes when you break the kiss finally. “Do you want me to keep my hair this length for the wedding or get it cut shorter like I kept it when we met?”

You shrug. “It’s up to you, it’s your hair. You didn’t give me any input on my wedding hair.”

“Well no, but it’s a bit different.”

You give him a bemused smile. “I don’t think it is Peter.”

“A little.” You go to speak again but Jack beats you to it. “Your preference? Please.” He gives you a little pout.

“Jack,” your eyes dart around his face a little trying to read him before moving up to his hair, “you know what my preference is. But I want you to be happy and feel good more than I want my preference.”

“Do I?” He ignores the last sentence which makes you laugh slightly. You realize something in him just wants to hear you say it right now. That you love his curls, that you prefer it at the just slightly longer length he has it now because it shows more of his curls. Just to feel close and talk about the wedding without talking about the wedding given what happened today.

“I love your curls. I prefer it at this length because it shows them off a bit more, but you’re the most attractive and handsome man I’ve ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, let alone calling mine, however you have your hair.” You run your hands through it, smiling to yourself a little without even fully realizing it. It’s a bit fluffier right now, the curls pulled out a bit from how much he must have ran his hands through his hair this shift. You love it so much. Love him so much.

“And I love the salt and pepper. God, Jack, I really fucking love the salt and pepper.” You shift on his lap slightly, roll your ass just a little. “I love it everywhere.” You look him in the eyes and lick your lips.

Jack’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate, cock starting to harden in his scrubs. Jack has started to go gray everywhere and you can both very easily and very clearly remember the night it first became visible enough for you to notice. He throbs just at the thought. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum as your hands find the hem of Jack’s scrub top and start pulling it off. You deliberately keep his undershirt on, love the way he looks in it alone, how tight it is against all of him. “All of it drives me insane.” Jack lifts his arms and you finish getting his scrub top off, tossing it wherever. You nuzzle your cheek against his, stubble grown out a bit since he last shaved. “Stubble too.”

You slide yourself off Jack’s lap and he whines a bit, tries to grab at your thighs to pull you back but you don’t let him. “Shh, let me do this for you, okay?” You coo at him as you move yourself to stand in front of Jack, his legs opening for you automatically.

“Doll,” Jack breathes as you sink to your knees in between his, one hand starting to rub at his now fully hard cock over his scrub pants. “You don’t have to do this-”

“Oh I know I don’t have to, Jack. I want to. I’ve been thinking about having you in my mouth all day. So please?” You push your bottom lip out for him. “Let me help you relax, Dr. Abbot.”

“Fuck,” Jack groans, eyes fluttering shut and head tipping back a little already. “You’re so good to me.”

“No, I just treat you how you deserve,” you hum as your hands find the waistbands of his scrub pants and boxer briefs, eyes taking in the outline of his cock intently before you go to pull them both down at once.

“Wait.” You pull your head back to look up at him and take your hands off his waistband. Jack grabs a pillow. “Here, put this under your knees. I know you like the bruises but you need to let the ones you have heal.”

“You’re so good to me.” You mirror his words back at him, eyes sparkling with adoration as you take the pillow from him and put it under your knees. You smirk as you return your hands to his waistband. “Just makes me want to give it to you even sloppier, Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for having a late lunch with me and dropping me off at work,” Jack gives you a little smirk as you stop near the fire hydrant at the corner where the street turns into the ambulance entrance. He’s working an odd mid shift today to help cover. 2 p.m. to 2 a.m. It kind of sucks because it’s a Saturday, but you at least made the most of the morning and had a nice lunch out together.

“Anytime, Peter. Thanks for asking.” You smile at him and set your hands on his chest as his come to rest on your hips. “Do you know what is exactly three months from today?” Your eyes sparkle as you say it.

“Hmmm,” Jack hums, pretending to think. “The best day of my life?”

You press your lips together and smile, tilt your head at him and grab at his scrub top a little. Your eyes get just a little bit glassy because you know how much he means it. “That was really good,” you laugh.

“I thought so.” He gives you a self-satisfied grin. “It’s true too.”

“I know,” you nod, “it’ll be the best day of mine too.” You slide your hands up around his neck and hug him, relish in the feeling of his hands sliding off your hips and around your back as he returns your hug, backpack hanging off one shoulder like always. “Have a good shift, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he nods. “You should just take an uber home.” You raise your brows at him. He glances up at the sky. “It might rain. You don’t have an umbrella. It’s not a long walk home but it’ll feel like it if it starts to rain.”

He’s right. The clouds do look threatening but when you looked at the weather earlier it said it wasn’t going to rain until later. Hence why you didn’t bring an umbrella. “Okay.” You shrug and pull out your phone. “I’ll let you know when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack pulls you in for one last kiss, lets it linger before pulling away and squeezing your hand. He turns and walks down towards the ambulance entrance and you stay where you’re at while you order an uber.

Jack nods at Robby as he walks in, slows for a second when he hears a car honking. It’s harder to tell this far away but it’s definitely coming from the direction he just came from. It stops though and he takes a couple more steps when the sound of screeching tires, crunching metal, shattering glass, the high pressured spraying of water and screaming draws everyone’s attention. An accident right outside the ambulance bay. Good spot for it, Jack thinks until it hits him. The water. The fire hydrant.

You’re standing on that corner.

No, no no no. This is not fucking happening. This is so not fucking happening. It’s three months to the fucking day before your wedding. The universe cannot possibly be this cruel.

The problem is Jack knows it can be. That it often is.

And he knows that you were standing on that corner because of him. Because he asked you to have lunch with him and walk with him to work. Because he said you should just get an uber home and you listened to him instead of walking like you were going to. And now what? He’s going to be left with a wedding to try and cancel and a funeral to plan and wedding rings you never got to give each other and a wedding dress he never got to see you in?

All that and a hope and a prayer Dana has a photo of you in your dress so he can see you in it just once.

All of these thoughts go through his mind in mere seconds. Jack is panicking. Silently and for the most part stoically. He looks up at Robby for a second and Robby just knows by the look in Jack’s eye.

Jack drops his backpack and takes off running out the door, multiple people following him. They’re all headed to help victims, anyone who might need help. Jack is headed for you and you only. He almost hopes he doesn’t see you but he knows there’s no way you got an uber and drove far enough away in the twenty or thirty seconds it took him to walk in.

But there you are.

Walking down from the corner towards him and calling his name and trying to reassure him already, holding your arms out a little for him as he gets to you, not sure what his instinct will be. As soon as shit had stopped flying you’d started walking quickly towards the ambulance entrance doors, taking a bit of an arc to avoid getting soaked. You knew Jack likely heard the accident and would be worried and out looking for you.

He says your name as he gets closer to you, panting less from the short run and more from the intensifying panic. “Are you hurt? Were you hit?” Slip of the tongue there that you both catch. His hands cup your face as he looks over your face. They drop quickly though to hold so that his eyes can trail unobstructed up and down your body almost methodically.

“I’m okay, I promise.” You grab his hands. “Jack, I’m okay. I wasn’t involved and the crash wasn’t even that bad, it sounded much worse, some guy drove straight into an empty and parked car and someone swerved to avoid him and hit the hydrant. I saw it coming and moved down the street.”

“No offense Doll but I’m okay is so the fuck not going to do it this time.” The way he says it isn’t mean or snippy or angry. It’s scared. Jack finally looks at you, really looks at you in your eyes. “You’re coming in for an exam. You could have been hit by debris, a sharp piece of headlight plastic and you’re probably having an adrenaline rush so you might not feel it and you’re in all black so I can’t get a good look at you and blood isn’t obvious. So just, you’re coming in and I’m going to look you over.”

You tilt your head a little and go to say something but stop for a second as you fully take in Jack. In addition to the sacredness in his voice you can tell he’s panicked by how he looks physically, pupils blown wide and chest heaving. He looks like he could be sick at any moment. While you know you’re genuinely fine this time you know that Jack doesn’t and that he can’t believe you as much as he trusts you, he just can’t, not on this, not after what happened last time. You know Jack’s not going to be able to see another human being until he’s checked you over.

“Okay.” You nod at him.

“Doll, please don’t argue, it’s not excessive or overdramatic-”

“Jack,” you say his name and drop his hands so that you can hold his face with yours. “I said okay. Let’s go in and to a room, yeah?”

“Oh,” Jack nods. He shakes his head slightly and it’s like he comes back to. “Yeah, yeah, come on.” He wraps an arm around you as you walk towards the ambulance entrance like he’s trying to be prepared to catch you when you drop any second now. Because he is. Because Jack is convinced he’s going to get you in a room and find something wrong, some horrific injury that’s going to leave you fighting for life again. Because Jack is right back to that day, the PTSD episode taking over his mind fast and gripping him like a vise.

He grabs his bag as you walk by it, catches Dana’s eye as he opens the door to central 6 and leads you inside. She gives him a knowing nod as Jack pulls the curtain to give you privacy since the door has a window.

You set your purse on the bed and turn to face Jack, grab the hem of your shirt and start to pull it over your head. Jack sets his backpack down and his hands find yours before you can.

“Let me,” he whispers, eyes still a bit crazed. You move your hands and nod, lift your arms when needed so he can pull your shirt off. He tosses it over your purse and looks at you, asks a silent question with his eyes.

You nod and Jack unhooks your bra, puts it on top of your shirt. His hands find the waistband of your pants and underwear and he kneels as he pulls them down. You rest your hands on his shoulders as you pick up one foot at a time for him to get them all the way off. Jack stands back up and sets them on top of your bra and shirt.

It feels like you should be uncomfortable or embarrassed standing like this, naked in front of a fully dressed Jack, even though he’s seen you naked a thousand times now, showers with you all the time, and has seen you in far more compromising positions than this. And in some sense it is because you don’t have a ton of self confidence despite all of Jack’s constant praise and body worship. But it’s also not because it’s Jack and the way he looks at you and takes you in, even now for the reason he is, makes you feel like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and like he’s thinking to himself how lucky he is that you’re his and he gets to have you and see you like this. That you let him. And that is in fact what he thinks to himself.

Jack starts with your face out of habit of looking in your eyes. A hand gently trails behind his gaze, fingers running softly over your skin, pressing just a bit like they’re looking for something. Jack just needs to feel you, feel your body and warm skin. He moves from your face down to your neck, covers it all before his eyes move to your shoulder and down your arm to your hand.

It’s not clinical, the way he looks over your body. It could feel clinical easily given the setting and the fact that Jack is checking for injuries. But it’s not. Instead it just feels like the man who loves you is taking in every piece of you to make sure you’re unharmed. Like a man who is so in love with you that he won’t be able to function again until he’s made sure you’re uninjured is taking reassurance from you body. Like being loved.

His eyes and hand go up and down you slowly, methodically. He does the top half of your body first and then crouches to do the lower half. Not a scratch on you. Jack stands back up, kisses at a couple of your scars as he does and then your forehead and then your lips.

Neither of you have said anything since Jack whispered to let him and you haven’t needed to, still don’t need to. He grabs your bra first, helps you get it back on then does your shirt for you. He crouches again to help you with your pants and underwear, pulls them up with you as he stands back up. You adjust your clothes and smooth them out a little as you get situated again, Jack’s eyes still trailing over your body some.

It’s then that he looks back into your eyes. They’re normal now, his pupils aren’t dilated and he doesn’t look so out of control with worry. There’s definitely still some worry there, but not like there was. Jack starts to move just a half second or so before you, stepping closer to you and cupping the back of your head with his hand. He pulls you into a hug like that, one you were already moving to give him. His hand stays on the back of your head, moving to the side a bit as he holds your head to his chest, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you tight. You wrap your arms around him, let him hold you as tightly as he needs to and hold him back just as strong.

Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair and smiles at the familiar scent. It helps ground him. He presses a couple of kisses to the top of your head, lets his lips linger with the last one. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers. He releases you so that you can take a step back and look at each other. But his hands stay on your waist to keep you close, thumbs brushing back and forth absentmindedly, your hands rest on his chest. “I’m sorry if I was mean out there, I hardly even remember, I was just so…”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t mean, I promise, Jack. You were just worried. That’s okay.” You slide your hands up his chest to his neck into his hair, scratch a little. You know he loves it. “Did it help?”

He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you a bit closer again. “Yeah, thank you. For letting me. I just needed to know and see with my own eyes that nothing had happened to you.”

You smile at him. “Of course, it was a pretty easy ask.” You try to give him a little smirk to see if he’ll smile and he does, just slightly. “Jack,” you tilt your head at him, encouraging him to speak to you but not demanding it. He’s still way in his head even if he’s come down from the panic he was in.

He lets out a long breath and sits in one of the chairs. “I was standing there and heard it and thought to myself that was a good place to crash. Right by an emergency room. And then it hit me that you were on that corner. And it was like the entire world was falling out from under me again. I was right back there in a way, it was like I was right back there.” He shakes his head a little and runs a hand through his hair. You know where he means.

You step closer to him and he automatically opens his legs so that you can stand between them. You rest your hands on his shoulders. “That makes sense.”

Jack settles his hands on your hips and bows his head forward so that his forehead rests against your tummy. “Maybe, yeah.”

“No, not maybe.” You move your hands, one rubbing the back of his neck and the other running through his hair. “It does make sense Jack. It was a PTSD trigger even if the circumstance wasn’t exactly the same. You feared for me and my life. Of course it’s going to take you back there. And I know it’s not my fault, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’re going through this and feeling this way right now and hurting. And if there is anything I can do to help Peter, please tell me.”

Jack squeezes your hips and lifts his face a little to give your tummy a kiss. “You’re already doing it,” he mumbles against you. “Just being here and letting me look you over and talking to me.” He pulls his head from your tummy and looks up at you, cocks his head slightly. “You know?”

“I do,” you nod. “Because you do the same for me. You heal me just by existing in this world with me.”

The two of you share a moment of eye contact before Jack pushes his lips out. You lean down and kiss him until he pulls away. “I should get to work.”

You nod. “Probably, yeah. I actually need to talk to Dana about my last fitting so it’s good I ended up coming in.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you share a look. Jack knows that you do need to talk to Dana but that it’s not the only reason you’re staying. You’re giving him a little more time to come down with you still in his sight. “Okay. Just let me know before you go, yeah?”

“Of course.” You smile at him and give him another kiss before the two of you leave the room. After you speak with Dana you find a reason to hang around the Pitt for a while longer. You chat with everyone who’s on and gets a couple of minutes to spare, hang around the desk without being intrusive or disruptive. You can feel Jack’s eyes on you frequently as he runs around from patient to patient, nurse to nurse, doctor to doctor. The two of you share a look at some point and you can see the gratitude in his eyes even as far away as you are.

Eventually though, you know you need to leave. You track Jack down to let him know.

“I’m going to head home, okay?” You smile reassuringly at him.

Jack stiffens just slightly for a second. When you rest your hands on his chest he relaxes a bit. “Yeah,” he nods, “okay, that sounds good. Make sure you get some dinner, yeah?”

“I will if you will.” You give him a knowing look.

“You know that’s not fair.”

You give an overdramatic huff. “Fine, but please try and have dinner if you can.”

“I promise you I will try.” He pulls you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “Text me when you’re home, yeah?”

“Of course, Peter. Call if you need anything. Or text.” The two of you step apart and Jack walks you over to the doors. “I love you.”

Jack leans down and kisses you. “I love you too.”

You try so hard to stay awake for Jack, but you slip asleep reading your book on the couch without even realizing it. You had told yourself when you laid out on the couch that you would end up falling asleep but you convinced yourself you wouldn’t because you were at such a good spot in your book. Famous last words. The book is now face down on your chest rising and falling with your steady sleeping breaths.

Jack thinks it’s odd when he opens the door and the lights are on but you don’t say anything. You’d have heard the door. He drops his bag and takes a few steps in to see if you’re on the couch or just forgot to turn the lights off when you went to bed. Maybe you left them on for him deliberately.

He smiles when he sees you asleep on the couch, walks over and grabs your book off your chest and marks the spot for you. You stir awake at it, blinking rapidly to clear your eyes before giving him a sleepy smile.

“Sorry, I tried waiting up for you.”

Jack smiles wider. He loves your sleepy voice. “I can see that,” he teases. “Don’t apologize. Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

You nod and sit up. Once you’re standing Jack grabs you for a quick kiss. “Dinner is in the oven staying warm for you, bring it to bed.” You yawn a little. You rarely have to do this anymore now that Jack works days but whenever he’s covering a night or mid if you make a real meal for dinner you always leave some in the oven for him with it set to warm. It is really such a simple thing but makes Jack feel so incredibly loved and taken care of and cared about and appreciated. “The granola bar or yogurt or whatever you had stored away that you ate doesn’t qualify as dinner.” You give him a knowing look, a little bit of the edge lost with how sleepy you still seem.

“Thank you, Doll.” You just nod at him, wait for him to grab it. You both change and you sit on the bed with him while he eats, chat a bit about his shift.

“You want to talk?” He knows you’re referencing what happened earlier today with you. “Need to?” Jack also knows you’re not pressuring him, just genuinely asking and reminding him that you’re here if he needs.

“I’m okay, honestly. Being busy at work helped,” Jack explains once he swallows the bite he’d taken.

When he finishes the two of you go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, wash your faces and get ready for bed. You curl up together once you’re both in bed. You wind up with Jack’s head on your chest, tangled together in the perfect position that’s comfortable for you both. “You’ll wake me if you have a nightmare?” You’re half asleep already when you ask.

“I will, promise. But I think I’ll be okay.” Jack nuzzles against your chest a little, telling you without words that the sound of your heart beating in his ear seems to keep them away. “I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” Your words are all sleep slurred and Jack chuckles a little. “Sleep tight Peter. Less than three months now.”

And it’s just under two months until the wedding when Jack pushes open the trauma room door and raises his eyebrows at Robby. It’s nearing the end of their shift. “What’s up?” He’s a bit confused why Robby called him in. It’s an MVA victim and the patient, while critical and in need of further stabilization, diagnostics and treatment, isn’t circling the drain. Robby can handle this with his eyes closed. He has a great team running it with him too. So Jack is confused why Perlah came running to grab him. “You’ve got this-”

“Jack, it’s Leah’s sister.” Robby’s voice shakes as he says it.

“Oh fuck.” Jack doesn’t need Robby to say anything more. He goes to grab a gown and gloves and jumps in, displacing a new intern.

“We can’t lose her Jack, we cannot fucking lose her.” Robby’s shaking his head as he finishes intubating her. “I can’t talk to her fucking parents again.”

Jack finishes off a chest tube and after a minute Jesse yells out a new round of vitals. They’re strong as she stabilizes further, strong enough that Jack can take a second.

“Robby,” Jack calls to him but Robby doesn’t look over, just starts moving to do something else. “Michael!” That gets Robby to look up and Jack catches his gaze. “We’re not going to.” Robby’s frenetic anxiety has made the entire room far too wired. “Okay everyone stop!” Jack isn’t mean about it, but it’s firm. There’s no room to argue or do anything but stop. “She’s stable for now so everyone take a breath.” Jack is still looking Robby in the eyes. Everyone takes a breath and lets it out. “Alright,” Jack nods, “let’s go.”

Jack is right. They don’t lose her. She stabilizes nicely and gets admitted and taken upstairs. Robby tries to talk to her parents but Jack doesn’t let him. He’s not sure where Robby went off to, but he can guess.

He calls you first quickly. You answer on the second ring. “Hi! Sorry I was turning the bath on to soak, so it took me a sec to get to my phone.” Jack smiles to himself at you explaining as if you needed to. “You have nothing to apologize for, Doll. I just wanted to let you know that I’m finally fucking off but it’s going to be a bit still.”

There’s an edge to Jack’s voice that concerns you. It’s almost like he’s had a bad day but not quite. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’m okay, I promise.” He lets out a sigh, rubs his free hand over his face. “Robby had a MVA victim today. Leah’s sister.”

“Oh fuck.” You walk over and turn the bath off.

Jack lets out a little laugh at that. “Yeah. Robby called me in and told me it was her and I said the exact same thing. She made it. She should be fine, she’s admitted upstairs. I spoke with her parents this time.”

“Robby’s not though.” Your heart aches for him. It’s around that time of year too. You weren’t around for Pitt Fest, but Jack has told you pretty much everything at some point or another.

“Robby’s not though.” Jack confirms. “I’m pretty sure he’s up on the roof. I’m going to go talk to him and then some people are going to the park now, I’m going to try and get him to go to see how he is.”

��Okay, Peter,” you murmur.

Jack knows the sadness lacing your voice isn’t because he’s just called you to let you know he’ll be home even later than he already texted you he’d be. It’s because you’re sad for Robby. That empathetic heart of yours is something he loves about you so much, but he knows it means you feel real emotional distress at times. “He’ll be okay.”

“No, I know, I just… wish I could make it better for him.”

“I know you do Doll. I do too. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod even though he can’t see you. “Jack?” You say it before he can start to say goodbye,

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s really hard watching your best friend hurt. I’m here, okay?” You chew on your lip a little. You know it hurts Jack to see Robby struggling and vice versa.

“I know you are. Thank you.” You can hear the smile in Jack’s voice. “I love you and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.”

“Okay, love you too.”

Robby is exactly where Jack expects to find him. “You’re not allowed to jump off the roof,” Jack calls to Robby as he walks over to where he stands beyond the guard rails.

“Jack, I really don’t want to do this again. It’s too much déjà vu for one day.” His voice is steady at least. He’s not crying or near tears. Jack takes that as a positive. He gets closer and leans against the guard rails near Robby.

“We don’t have to do anything. But you knew I was going to come up here to find you,” he says pointedly. Robby tries to shake his head at first but ends up giving him a nod. Jack can tell Robby really doesn’t want to come apart here again. He gets it. “I’m serious. Can’t have my officiant jumping off the roof. Especially not this close to the wedding.”

That at least gets a huff of laughter from Robby. He lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know Jack.” Robby turns and ducks back under the guard rails and stands next to Jack. “It was years ago,” Robby laughs and runs a hand through his hair, “but right now it feels almost like that night.”

“Yeah,” Jack nods slowly. “That’s PTSD for you.”

“I recognized her.” Robby looks over at Jack. “They looked so alike. But I couldn’t place her. And then someone was going through her stuff and read her name and it hit me at the last name. Leah’s sister. I felt fucking awful that I didn’t recognize her. I should have. Shouldn't have forgotten. And then it was just like I can’t lose her. I can’t do that to her parents again. And I should be over it, and it shouldn’t fuck with me this much still.”

Jack lets the words hang there for a minute, in part to see if Robby will say anything else. “First,” he starts, “should is a stupid word.” That earns him a look from Robby that Jack waves off for later. “Second, she wasn’t Leah. You shouldn’t have recognized her. They looked similar, yes, but still. You’d never seen her before, had you?” Robby shakes his head. “Then how would you have known? I get the not losing her thing. And even if you hadn’t called me in you wouldn’t have. You’re a good doctor, Michael. Leah was effectively DOA, you know that.”

Robby takes in a big breath and lets it out. “Yeah.” He shrugs. “Still.” It’s whispered and Jack knows Robby’s getting close to his limit.

“I know. Come on, let’s go to the park. Even just for one.” Robby grimaces at Jack. “It’ll be good for you.”

Robby gives Jack a look that says he doesn’t believe him but nods anyway and they head down, sit on their usual bench. It’s much livelier than it had been when Jack thinks back on the night of Pitt Fest. More people.

Everyone chats and laughs but Jack can read Robby and knows it’s all fake, all forced and shallow. It’s unsurprising but Leah’s sister hit him hard. Jack wonders when the last time he spoke to Jake was.

After what can only be five or so minutes Garcia smirks and looks over at Jack. “Your girl decided to join us?”

Jack’s brows furrow together in genuine confusion before his eyes follow Garcia’s. Sure enough, there you are, in leggings and one of Jack’s oversized sweatshirts you’ve stolen. Jack tilts his head as he gets up and walks towards you, reaching you before you hit the group. His heart rate ticks up a little.

“Hey,” he calls to you before he reaches you, his hands wrapping lightly around your upper arms when you’re close enough, eyes starting to move over you. “You okay? Did something happen?”

You melt a little inside. He’s so protective and caring. You know some of it stems from trauma but he was like this with you before you were shot. You bring your hands up and squeeze Jack’s forearms softly. “I’m okay, promise. I didn’t come for Pitt services.”

Jack believes you but he can’t help the way his eyes give you one last scan. The way they linger at your torso doesn’t escape you. “Okay, good.” He releases your arms and you his as he pulls you in for a hug, kisses the top of your head. “So why are you here? Not that I’m not thrilled to see you or that you can’t come see me randomly.”

You separate a little so you can look at each other. “I don’t know. I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Robby shouldn’t be alone. As long as you’re okay and don’t need my undivided attention.” Your eyes flit around Jack’s face as you look for any signs he does. “I love Robby, but you always come first.”

Jack smiles at you and shakes his head slightly before leaning in to give you a kiss. It’s chaste, there’s no tongue or real movement, he just lets it linger to communicate how much he loves you and appreciates you. “I’m okay.” He looks you in your eyes like he loves. “I promise.”

You nod. You believe him, know he is. “Good.” The two of you exchange small smiles and agree on the plan without speaking a word of it. It’s just intuitive. Jack swallows hard because you’re so good not just to him, but everyone in his life.

Jack laces his hand in yours and walks you over to the bench with him. You greet everyone, smile and nod at Robby as you sit down by Jack. You aren’t there long before Robby stands up and says he’s going to head out, starts walking.

“You ready?” Jack asks you. You nod at him, both of you saying your goodbyes.

You don’t wait for Jack though as he finishes saying goodbye. Instead you walk quickly to catch up with Robby.

“Robby!” You call out as you get close. He stops of course, turns to look at you, is about to ask if something is wrong. “Come to ours.”

He raises an eyebrow and takes a deep breath in as he gives a single nod, grimaced smile pulling up on his face. Jack told you at some point. He’s not mad about it.

“That’s very kind, but I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” He starts to turn to walk again but you follow beside him.

“I don’t know that I believe you that you are fine, and it’s okay not to be.” You give him a little look when he looks over at you. “Even if you are, you don’t have to work towards being okay alone.”

Robby’s steps slow. “It’s okay, honestly.” He sounds much more emotional now but also like he doesn’t know what to do with the offer for some help. “I’m sure Jack would like some alone time to decompress.” He’s trying to deflect.

“I spoke to Jack before I offered, he’s okay with it.” The two of you are standing again. “Well it’s less of an offer at this point and more me telling you. You shouldn’t be alone and I know you well enough at this point Robby to know that you don’t want to be. So come to ours.” You grab a fistful of the sleeve of his sweatshirt. You know you have him and don’t need to say more but you give him another reason. His favorite thing you bake. “Let’s go. I’ll make you white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies.”

You don’t wait for him to say anything, just tug at him by his sleeve and turn around, start walking over to a waiting Jack. Robby doesn’t protest, walks by your side.

“She’s persuasive isn’t she?” Jack smirks as you approach.

“She grabbed my sweatshirt and started pulling, I’m not sure if that’s persuasion.”

“I said I’d make him white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies,” you tell Jack as you release Robby’s jacket and lace your fingers through Jack’s outstretched hand.

“You better,” Robby huffs as he smooths out the creases your hand had caused in the sleeve of his jacket. The attitude is all fake.

“Or what, you won’t marry us?” you fire back, largely to distract him.

“Ha!” Jack laughs loudly which makes you join in. Even Robby has to as much as he tries not to.

“I am a woman of my word, thank you very much. I will make you the cookies.”

It’s not a long walk to your and Jack’s place. You kick off your shoes and walk in as both men drop their bags and get their own shoes off. You’re in the kitchen by the time they come to find you, assembling supplies and ingredients.

You glance up at them as they walk in. “Shower. Both of you. If you want. But also do it.” You look at Robby. “There’s a clean towel on the guest bed for you, and I put a pair of Jack’s pajama pants and a shirt on the bed for you too. There should be stuff in the shower but just yell if you need something that isn’t in there.”

Jack’s standing a little behind Robby and staring at you. It’s one of those moments where he really thinks you’re too good not just for him but for the world. You did all of this after getting off the phone with him, planned for it, came to see him, yes, but also to check on Robby and silently ask Jack whether Robby needed this, to not be alone. All because Robby is his best friend. You and Robby are close in the sense that he’s Jack’s brother effectively and so you know him well and most everything about him and love him like family, but you’re not best friends. This is something you’re doing for Robby, yes of course, but also for Jack and he knows it. Jack catches your eye and mouths he loves you. The smile you give him says you love him too.

“I will, uh. Thank you.” Robby gives you a small nod, both he and Jack walking down the hall to their respective rooms.

While they shower you order a pizza and start on the cookies. The dough doesn’t take too long to make and you have it blast chilling in the freezer and grab the pizza from the delivery guy and have it on the counter by the time Jack comes out and finds you in the kitchen. “Hi.” He wraps his arms around you from behind and hunches a bit so he can kiss at your neck.

“Hi.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. “You okay? Nice shower?”

Jack lets his lips stay against your neck. “I’m good, Doll. And it was okay.” He kisses his way up to your jaw. “Would have been better if you’d been in it with me.”

You giggle, turn your face more so that you can share a real kiss. “Tomorrow. I promise.” Jack hums, loosen his grip around you when you go to turn all the way. You run a hand through his still wet hair. You really do love that he’s keeping his just slightly longer now all the time. “I love your hair,” you sigh, tilt your head at him. Ever since France he’s been keeping it that centimeter or so longer. He doesn’t have a huge preference and you’ve made it clear just how much you love it like this. And he does too with how feral it can make you and how it lets you tug on it even harder when he’s got his between your legs or is fucking you.

Jack lets out a laugh through his nose. “You know I’ve picked up on that.” You tell him you love his hair all the time, play with it all the time, run your hands through it. You love his curls and the salt and pepper. He teases you all the time that you’re the reason for the increasing amount of salt.

“I’m jealous.”

“Picked up on that too,” Jack laughs. “You got us pizza?”

“Mhm, I knew the chances of either of you having eaten something substantial were slim to none.” You give him a soft smile.

He loves you so much. The way you anticipate his needs, seem to think of everything. He’d love you as much as he does even if you didn’t, but you do. Jack tilts his head and leans in for a kiss, this one far less chaste than any you’ve had since parting for the day much earlier this morning. Jack starts to deepen the kiss even more, push you into the counter a little as he gets closer and you let him, scratch at his scalp to make him groan.

The shutting of the guest room door startles you both and ends the kiss. Jack whines softly as he leans his forehead against yours. “Eat, Jack.” You poke his tummy softly. He grumbles a little but kisses your forehead and walks over to the box of pizza, grabs a slice. “You too,” you tell Robby once he walks back into the kitchen. “Eat.”

Robby looks over at the pizza and nods. “Thank you.”

Jack opens the fridge once he finishes his first slice and pulls out two beers. “Doll?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“No, I’m okay but thank you for asking.” He nods at you and takes the tops of both, hands Robby one and grabs another slice of pizza, as does Robby. You’re all mostly quiet as they eat, grabbing more slices when they finish one, and you take the dough out and scoop it out onto some cookie sheets. You give both of them a look when they each grab a little dough out of the bowl to eat.

Jack and Robby move into the living room while you finish and get the cookies in the oven, a timer set. You follow them into the living room, just for now. You’ll give them some time together once the cookies are done.

The two sit at opposite ends of the couch, both leaning on the armrests a bit. You sit right next to Jack, feet curled up almost under you and lean back into him a little. “Tell her what you said on the roof.” You look back over your shoulder with your brows slightly furrowed at Jack. “You’ll see, just wait.” Robby’s brows are even more furrowed than yours. He has no idea what Jack means or what part of the conversation he’s referring to. “About being over it.”

“Oh,” Robby runs a hand through his hair and looks at you. “I should have recognized her and I didn’t. I should be over it. It shouldn’t fuck with me this much this far out. And normally it doesn’t, but today it sure fucking did.”

You nod as soon as he says the word, squeeze Jack’s hand. “Should is a stupid word.”

Robby lets out a little laugh. “So I’ve been told.”

“I didn’t tell him the rest,” Jack informs you. “I think hearing it would benefit him though.”

“You could have told him.”

“Yeah, but I like hearing you say it. And it seemed like something that would be more convincing tonight coming from you.” Jack runs his hand up and down your thigh now.

You nod, look at Robby, catch his eyes so that you’re really looking at each other. “Should is a stupid word,” you repeat. “Nothing should or shouldn’t be. Things just are. And it’s okay for them to be as they are. It’s okay for this to be as it is. It’s still going to fuck with you, Robby. Some days more so than others. And no fucking shit it did today. It was her sister, in your trauma room. You’ve gotta give yourself some grace.”

Robby is quiet, has to look away from you as he thinks. But you saw how glassy his eyes grew, how close to tears he was before he looked away. Jack knows he isn’t sure how to respond to that. So he moves the conversation forward a bit. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

Robby takes in a deep breath through his nose and holds it for a second before letting it out as he shakes his head. “Couple of months. Four or five maybe.” He clears his throat to try and get rid of some of the emotion, takes a sip of his beer. Jack shifts slightly so he’s a bit more turned, can rest his hand on the top of your thigh. “He just doesn’t want to talk. He’s still mad. I think at least. Sometimes I feel like it’s something else but can never figure out what. Talk about it in therapy every now and then, but there’s not much left to say.” Robby swallows thickly, sets his beer down.

You and Jack are both quiet for a moment. You’re trying to read both Robby and Jack, trying to see if further input from you is wanted or if this is a shut up and listen moment, or something Robby is telling Jack for later, when they’re alone.

Jack can damn near hear you thinking and squeezes your thigh. He’s sure Robby needs to hear whatever it is you have to say. You shift down the couch a little, sit a bit closer to Robby, fully facing him on the couch with your legs crossed under you. You grab his hand and hold it. Not like you hold Jack’s but like you hold the hand of a friend you’re comforting.

“Sometimes you don’t think he’s mad anymore. Sometimes you convince yourself he’s not mad anymore. I think, maybe, instead you think he’s over it, or as over it as he’ll ever get and he’s just done with you.” You let out a small breath as Robby squeezes your hand hard. All three of you know that you’re right. “You think he has gotten used to you not being there, has moved on from you and doesn’t want you to be in his life anymore. You think he’s no longer angry and grieving and confused and struggling. You think he just doesn’t need or want you. And the thought that he just doesn’t need or want you hurts much more than him blaming you for her death ever did. Because he’s a son to you. And so the thought that he just doesn’t need or want you anymore is the pain of losing a child in a way, Michael. You’ve gotta try and let yourself feel that.”

Robby looks at you. “Holy fuckin shit.” He’s stricken and you know it’s an uncomfortable realization but if life and therapy have taught you one thing it’s that sometimes having words, knowing how to say what you’re feeling, is helpful, makes it better, no matter how hard those words are to say or hear. “You… I…” Robby drops his head, takes his hand back from you so that he can hold his face in his hands.

“I know,” you murmur. You scoot just a bit closer and wrap your arms around him from the side, rest your head on the back of his shoulder and just hold him in the hug as he finally starts to cry.

Robby drops one hand from his face and holds onto your arm that’s across his chest, just as something, someone to ground him. He never has this, never has someone with him when he’s like this except for maybe occasionally his therapist and every so often Jack. And you’re offering him this platonic affection and comfort of a hug and so Robby lets himself have it.

You don’t say anything or move. Just hug him silently. Jack watches the two of you and thinks about how funny it is that he’s always thinking there’s no way he could love you more and then you do something, something like this, and somehow he does.

The timer for the cookies goes off around the time Robby starts to calm down so you take your arms back and get off the couch, give Jack a quick kiss before going to the kitchen. You get the cookies on the cooling rack and fan at them a bit so they set up enough for you to get them on a plate, take them into the living room.

Robby and Jack have sat quietly together while you’re gone to give Robby some more time to collect himself. You set the plate on the middle of the couch between them. “I’m going to bed, but come get me if you need anything. There’s more cookies in there too, if you run out.”

You step a little closer to Robby off to the side and lean over, run a hand over his hair and hold the back of his head while you kiss the top of his head off to the side. You move over to Jack, stand between his legs and lean down for a proper kiss, hold his face in your hands. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips, smiling.

“I love you more.” He wraps his hands around your wrists and gives you another kiss, another few, honestly, Robby still so out of it he doesn’t even make a comment or fake a gag. You giggle a little and give him one last one before pulling away and heading into bed.

“She’s right,” Robby admits once your bedroom door closes. He grabs a cookie, so does Jack.

Jack takes a sip of beer and nods. “She usually is.”

Robby shakes his head and rubs his face with his hand, takes in a deep breath. “I never know what to think with him, Jack. Sometimes we text and it feels so normal. Other times it feels like he’s sending answers because he feels he has to and like it’ll end the conversation faster. Sometimes we do frequently, a couple of days in a row and then this. We go months.”

“When’s the last time you spoke on the phone? Or facetimed or whatever?”

Robby has to think about it, grabs another cookie while he does. “His birthday. He answered when I called. It was short, but he answered. That was like nine months ago.”

Jack raises his eyebrows to himself as he grabs another cookie. Nine months is a long time. He’s not judging Robby, at all. It’s just a long time and he knows how much it must kill Robby.

“She got married,” Robby says quietly.

“Janey?” Jack’s kind of surprised by the news but he doesn’t really know why.

“Yeah.” Robby shrugs. “So he really doesn’t need me,” Robby tries to laugh, “he has someone else, someone who didn’t kill his girlfriend.”

“You didn’t kill his girlfriend Robby. And I have a lot of doubt that some guy his mom married when he was over 18 has replaced you.” Jack finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle on the end table. “Jake loves you, a lot.” Jack shakes his head as Robby starts to interrupt him, grabs a cookie and shoves it at him to try and keep him from talking. “No, don’t tell me he doesn’t. I saw him that day before he left, I saw how he looked at you. He might have been mad at you, might have hated you in a way, but he loved you when he left the hospital Michael.”

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” Robby sniffles. “Even if he loves me and I haven’t been replaced and even if he needs me,” Robby shrugs. “He still doesn’t want me. And not wanting me wins over the rest and I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jack sits up a little and lets out a breath. “Have you tried asking him if he wants to do something together, in person, since he started talking to you again?” It had taken six or seven months for Jake to respond to Robby’s texts after Pitt Fest. He gave Robby the coldest of shoulders at Leah’s funeral, almost looked mad he was there.

“No. Why would I? He doesn’t want to and then it just makes it awkward for him to have to try and find a way to say no.” Robby shakes his head, finishes his own beer and sets it to the side. “I don’t want to put him through anymore than I already have.” He grabs another cookie.

“But maybe he does want to, Robby. He’s still a kid, even though he’s over 18 and it happened when he was 17.” Jack catches Robby’s gaze. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to text or call first or maybe he doesn’t know how to ask you to do something or be back in his life and have things be like they were before Pitt Fest because he thinks he hurt you too bad and doesn’t know how to apologize and can’t imagine you ever forgiving him. Maybe he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe he’s hurting just as bad as you are and maybe he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

Robby’s gaze falls from Jack’s and Jack can tell he’s thinking. Jack can tell he’s hoping.

“I don’t,” Robby starts but then stops, shakes his head a little. “You think?”

Jack shrugs. “I think it’s a possibility, yeah. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Robby nods. He grabs another cookie and Jack sits with him in silence.

“I think I need to sleep on it,” Robby finally says.

Jack nods. “That’s a good plan.” Jack knows that’s also Robby’s somewhat subtle way of ending the conversation. Jack stands up and grabs his bottle, holds his hand out for Robby’s. “You taking those to bed with you?”

Robby rolls his eyes as he stands up and grabs the plate and follows Jack into the kitchen. “No, just a couple.” Jack snorts a laugh as Robby grabs some and a paper towel. He gets the rest of the cookies and those left on the plate in a ziploc and sets them on the counter in front of Robby. Robby tilts his head at him.

“She made them for you. So they’re yours.” Jack shrugs as he walks out of the kitchen towards your room. “I hope you don’t get too many nightmares tonight,” Jack calls back to Robby. It’s his way of saying sleep well because Jack more than most people understands what sleeping is like after a PTSD episode.

You’re asleep on Jack’s pillow when he walks in, he’s just able to make out your form in the darkness. He heads to the bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed.

Jack slips in behind you, bare chest pressing into your back as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you even closer. You stir, push yourself back into him as you take in a breath. “Hi Peter,” you mumble. Your sleepy voice is so precious and adorable Jack swears he has to stop himself from biting your shoulder.

“Hi Doll, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers back, kisses the side of your face.

“Wasn’t sleeping hard, trying to wait for you. Didn’t work,” you let out a little sleepy laugh that turns into a yawn. You can feel the vibrations of Jack’s chest when he chuckles at you.

He squeezes you a little for a second and then fully settles behind you. “Thank you. For doing this for Robby.”

You hum softly. “Course. Robby’s family, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Still. Not every girlfriend or fiancée or wife would do this, even for family. I know it’s been a long week for you and that you’ve missed me and Robby coming over meant we wouldn’t get much one on one with each other tonight.” Jack kisses at your neck. “You didn’t have to. Do any of it. Show up or get him to come over or get pizza or make cookies or talk to him.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. For him and you. Even with as much as I wanted it to just be us tonight. He needed to not be alone.” You give another little yawn, smack your lips a little. “And what can I say?” It’s a little sleep slurred. “Guess I’m not every girlfriend or finacée or wife.” Jack’s arm is still draped over you and you grab his hand, bring it up and kiss haphazardly at his knuckles. “Just yours.”

Jack nuzzles his nose against your neck and kisses there. “You’re not just anything.” Hearing you say you’re his always gets to him and he can feel himself filling out a bit, especially with your ass pressed back into him. “But you are mine, yes,” Jack confirms. He feels your breathing start to slow and even out as you fall back asleep. “And I’m yours.”

A week later you and Jack are laying in bed reading and intermittently chatting. It’s Friday and it has been a long fucking week for you. Working late and going in early and barely taking lunch and just constantly busy. And it’s all been particularly emotionally draining.

“Are you having anyone walk you down the aisle?”

That question makes you pause, sit up a bit stiffly and look up from your book. Somehow during all of the planning it never occurred to you. “I… don’t know I guess.” You shake your head as you look over at Jack.

He shrugs. “I just wondered. You don’t need to have it figured out right now, there’s still time.”

“Yeah.” You nod to yourself. But you stay sitting up and stiff. Jack watches you out of the corner of his eye and glances at you every now and then, hoping you’ll relax and go back to reading. He hadn’t meant to upset you or cause you stress or anxiety, but he realizes now with how exhausted and emotionally zapped you are from the week your brain has been looking for a reason to spiral and he just unknowingly at the time handed you one.

He sets his book down on his lap. “Hey.” You look over at him and Jack can almost see the dizziness you’re feeling in your eyes from how fast your thoughts are churning in your head. “You don’t need to know right now, okay? You don’t need to decide tonight. There’s seven weeks still. You have time.”

“No, I know.” You nod at him. And you do know. Jack watches you carefully. “I’m just thinking now.” You slip out of bed and start to pace. Jack chides himself mentally for his comment even though he knows he didn’t deliberately give you something to spiral about, he still hates the fact that he did. “It’s going to be so much attention on me. On us.” You look up at him as you pace. “At the altar. Walking down the aisle, like everyone is going to be looking at me and what if I fall? And then the first dance and cutting the cake and like we have to say our vows in front of everyone and what if I just like forget how to read.” It would be funny if it weren’t causing you such real distress. Jack’s eyes stay on your face so he can try to read your expression as you pace at the foot of the bed. “Maybe we should downsize the wedding, maybe that would be better and then there wouldn’t be so many people.”

“Downsize the wedding,” Jack repeats, very obviously confused to an extent because you’d discussed this together when you started planning and were deciding how big you wanted your guest list. He’s about 95% sure this is anxiety and exhaustion talking, but he wants to hear you out of course, wants to help and that means listening and asking questions so he fully understands you. “In what way?”

“Yeah, like what if we just didn’t have a big wedding? Just like a handful of people, maybe less.” You walk over and sit facing him on the edge of his side of the bed. “Or like you know,” you shrug, “what if we just flew to Vegas tomorrow and eloped?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know that’s like a little baby kind of cliff-hanger but I felt like I had to keep it interesting I’m sorry! 😭 I hope it was otherwise okay! I did not feel particularly great about any of this but it's hard to know if that means something or is just how I always feel lol. Part 5 and the wedding will be here soon!!

If you made it this far, seriously thank you, I know it's a lot to read and I appreciate you taking your time to read, I know how precious time to yourself can be so I am very grateful. I would love to hear your thoughts and comments!

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#jack abbot #jack abbot imagine #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fic #fic rec

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writingsonsaturn · 24 days ago

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Bruises Pt 1 | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: When you find yourself in an abusive relationship, you never thought your attending Jack Abbot would become your protector and saving grace.

TW: domestic violence, addiction, alcohol, age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s & Jack is 49), blood, pining, angst, eventual smut. Not beta read.

If this flops I’m not writing part 2. Also if it flops I may cry so lie and tell me it’s good.

Word Count: 1.9k

There was no point in trying to cover the massive bruise on your face, it would only make things more suspicious. You dont exactly remember what make your fiancé Charlie snap, but before you knew it, you were on the floor of the kitchen, his fist making contact with your face. The air escaped your lungs as you felt a blunt force against your abdomen, your fingers sprawled out on the floor, trying to hold onto anything you could as you gasped for breath. You didnt move from the cold tile for a while, it bringing comfort to your burning flesh.

As you strode into The Pitt the next evening, you did so hesitantly, keeping your head down. It was shift change, Dana was still at the nurses station, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and Robby was stuck in a trauma. Jack was at the computer, reading over the shift change reports.

"Evening." you said casually, setting your water bottle down on the desk. Dana was the first to glance up.

"Eve- what the fuck?"

Jacks head shot up, and without hesitation he rounded the desk, taking your face into his hands, inspecting the damage.

"What the fuck happened?" you avoided his gaze as he gently cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumb across the black and blue skin.

"I'm fine. I was playing baseball with my nephew, and he has a really good swing." you tried to chuckle through your lie. He studied your face, his jaw clenched and brow serious.

"Did you get an X-ray?"

"I'm fine. Really." you shook your head, but when he delicately pressed his fingers on your nose you jerked your head backwards with a wince.

"Bullshit you're fine, you're next for X-ray." he grabbed your wrist and started leading you towards radiology as you protested.

"I know we have other patients, but you cant treat them with a broken face. If its broken, you're going home."

"No!" you called out too eagerly, almost in a panic. Jack stopped in his tracks with a screeching halt, twisting around to look at you. His demeanor instantly changed, his gaze burned into your flesh as he studied you: your eyes, your shallow breathing, and your posture that seemed to be recoiling with each passing second. His jaw was clenched, but the grip on your wrist began to loosen, and he slowly let go. You looked down as his fingerprints began to fade away.

"I'm ordering a CT" he deadpanned with a quick turn, continuing your walk to X-ray. His pace speeding up over so slightly and you struggled to keep up. The air was heavy; the silence hung high in the air- only the hum of the hospital’s harsh artificial lights filled the uncomfortable void.

"For a broken nose?" you called out, confused.

"Just a precaution."

"We don't order CTs for a broken nose, Jack. I dont ne-"

"Will you just fucking listen for once?" he hissed through clenched teeth as you jerked backwards. Jack was known for his tough exterior, but he wasn't short, not with his patients, and especially not with you. You knew there was a soft side to him, one he rarely showed. You’ve seen him sit bedside with a young girl explaining to process of a medical abortion, you’ve watched him show his prosthetic leg to a terrified little boy with a broken arm, and you’ve watched him talk a fellow vet through a PTSD episode.

He pulled a gown down from the shelf in the waiting room and pressed it firmly against your chest. "Get dressed, when you're all done I'll come get you." Before you could respond he walked away, his fists balled by his sides. You had never seen Jack like this, what happened? It's like a flip switched. His body was tense, his eyes full of anger.

You look at your bruised face in the changing room as you took off your engagement ring and other jewelry. You did your best to cover your bruised body despite the gown being open all the way down the back. The radiology tech was the seasoned Maxine, having worked at PTMC for almost 40 years, and having pet names for everyone at the hospital.

“I’m not sure why he’s making such a fuss over a broke nose. He’s not my dad.” You kept the conversation going as she positioned you on the bed.

“What about your daddy?.” Maxine winked.

“Jesus Christ Maxine!” You blushed.

“I’m just teasing honey, he just cares about you that’s all. Some may say smitten.” the smell of cigarettes emanating from her Snoopy scrubs.

“You said you were gonna quit.” You tried to change the subject as you began to blush even harder.

“They haven’t killed me yet. Besides, talk to me when you’ve been working here as long as I have. How long have you been working here?”

“5 years.”

“See, you’re just a baby, baby.” She patted you shoulder and left the room to start the scan. “Just stay still for me doll and it’ll be done soon.” After CT you hurried to change out of your gown and back into your black scrubs. You were seething with anger and shock by how Jack had spoken to you earlier. You waltzed back down to the ER despite his orders and looked up at the patient board. 10 more in the waiting room since you went down to radiology? What the fuck?

“When you’re all done I’ll come and get you…” you began speaking to yourself in a mocking tone as your scanned your badge to pick up a new case, “who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?”

“What are you doing?” You spun to find Jack barreling toward the nurses station from curtain 3. “I told you I’d come get you when the CT was over.”

“And I’m not a child Jack. I’m a big girl, I can walk myself back to work. I don’t need you to hold my hand the whole way in case I get lost. Now if you’ll excusing me, I have a vomiting toddler in 12.” You tried to push past but he stepped in front of you, blocking your direction.

“Not until I see your scan results.” You were livid at how infantilizing he was being at the moment. You always thought he viewed you at incredibly capable. You searched his eyes, looking for at least something that would explain this sudden strange behavior. What did he know? What did he suspect?

“Step aside Dr. Abbot.” You squared up to him. Arms resting on your hips. He took a step forward, his chest almost pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat emanating from his body and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Uh Abbot,” Nurse Lena uncomfortably walked into whatever the hell this was. “CT and X-ray results are back.”

Jack backed up slowly, not taking his eye off you as he opened the files on his computer. He began to read, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

“Why don’t we go over these somewhere a little bit quieter.” He asked, faking a smile and trying to find a private room. You followed in suit.

“You don’t have to take me aside to tell me I have a broken nose, Dr. Abbot.” You were almost 2 hours into your shift and hadn’t touched a patient yet. This was ridiculous.

“You’re right,” he answered back, closing the curtain behind you as you both ducked into Room 7. “I’d like you to tell me where these rib fractures came from”. He didn’t looked at you, just typed away at the computer pulling up your CT results.

“What are you talking about, Jack?” Your mouth instantly began to water as you were hit a wave of nausea. He turned the computer to face you, pulling up your imaging.

“Non displaced rib fracture of the left T6 and hairline fracture of your T7.” He pointed to each rib on the screen, as if it weren’t clear as day to you as well. Your hands tangled in your lap as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. “Or did your nephew do that too?” Your eyes shot up at his sarcastic remark. Jack regretted those words the second they left his lips. Looking down at his shoes, he inched his way towards the edge of the bed where you were sitting, hands in his scrub pockets.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, putting his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. You winced slightly as he hit a particularly tender spot and his face fell. "Whats wrong with your shoulder?"

"I'm fine." you just shook your head, fiddling with your engagement ring like you were unintentionally trying to tell him something. He took a seat next to you, looking down at the floor.

"How long has he been hurting you." he finally asked, nervously rubbing the scruff on his face, trying to calm the pit in his stomach. You shook your head again and stood, turning towards the door. He grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving, unknowingly tracing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. Avoiding his gaze, you struggled to hold back the tears that were burning your eyes. You felt a gentle tug on your arm, Jack pulling you closer to him, grabbing on to your other free hand.

There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to tell him. About all the nights you spent locked in the bathroom, hiding from your fiancés hurling words and fists. About the bruises that covered your body. About the control. The isolation. The terror.

"I dont know." was all you could muster, however. You felt his body stiffen, his grip tighten on your wrists. A sob caught in your chest, the lump growing larger and larger in your throat. You couldn’t look up, you couldn’t face him, though you felt his hazel eyes burning into your flesh. Before you either of you could speak again, you were saved by a trauma.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the Pittsburgh sun because to poke out from under the horizon, did you hear the door creak and the sound of his uneven gate coming up behind you. Without a word, he handed you your usual, a cup of vanilla chai tea. The both of you would meet up here on occasion, after a particularly tough shift, just to talk. It was a chilly morning, the tip of your nose rosy as another cold Pittsburgh fall and winter began to creep in. You caught chill as the wind whipped through the buildings beside you. As you shivered, Jack instinctively stepped towards you, letting his radiating body heat warm yours.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” you finally admitted. “The first time he hit me… he said he’d never do it again. I was stupid enough to believe him. But then his drinking got worse and, you get the rest of the story.” You motion to your face, the cold air stinging your eyes. He stared at you without a word, you could tell he was thinking. You saw the gears moving in his head. Jack Abbot, thinking? That was never good sign.

“You drive or take The T?” He asked, pushing off the railing.

“The T…?” You were confused as he started walking toward the door, motioning you to follow suit. “Grab your stuff, I’ll take you home.” “Jack, that’s kind of you, but if Charlie saw some strange man dropping me o-“

“I know,” Jack cut you off, “I’m taking you to my place.”

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writingsonsaturn · 26 days ago

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how bf!gaz would take care of you if you were anxious on vacation | mdni

cw: pure cottony sweet fluff, anxious!reader, depictions of panic/anxiety attack, gaz is sweet angel baby, 18+, not proofread

he’d brought you to a four star hotel in a city you’ve never been to—the sheets are crisp and cold and so is the water, you have fresh coffee and snacks at your disposal, a beautiful view below the balcony—you should be happy, grateful. and you were, jumping into his arms and squealing at the new comfortability when the two of you arrived in the afternoon…but now it’s 3am, your stomach is turning and your heart is pounding. you’re not much of a traveler, and with the room pitch black, you feel the walls closing in. you’re freezing but breaking into sweats at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of the past, present and future. you’re tense, and kyle can tell.

typically, you’d be on him, face burrowed into his neck, thigh wedged between his, ball of your foot against his shin. but tonight, you were far (less than two feet) away from him in fetal position. your shoulders stiff, constantly inhaling and sighing to regulate your breath.

you and kyle have only been together for a couple months. you’ve been open about being prone to anxiety attacks and the like, he’s just never experienced it first hand. you intended to keep it that way, fearful of what would happen if you slipped up.

he passed out as soon as you got back to the room, exhausted from your activities in the day and drinks in the evening. he didn’t bother getting ready for bed, leaving you awake long after his soft snores began. but his skin feels bare without you there, a soft frown etching its way between his brows. even in sleep, he knows something is wrong.

you cover your mouth as tears fall, trying with all your might to calm down. but you can’t and you’re scared. he can’t see you like this, it’s all too new. you’d been so perfect this whole time, you’d done your best to filter out the gunk, sift through the sand. surely, he’ll think you’re crazy, a lost cause. surely, he’ll touch you gingerly with fear. surely, he’ll judge you. surely-

“baby?” his groggy voice freezes you. you don’t dare to move, you’re a deer caught in headlights. a dog caught gnawing on something she shouldn’t. you don’t know if you should turn to him or pretend to sleep.

before you can decide, his hand is snaking over your waist, beckoning you to face him. you take your hand from your mouth with a whimper, “‘m sorry,” is all you can muster.

he knows you’re embarrassed, scared. but it’s okay. he’ll come to you.

“for what, honey? you’re okay. ’s jus’ me,” he soothes, voice still soft and full of sleep. he puts his lips to your shoulder in an attempt to satiate you.

your lips wobble, he’s being so gentle. you don’t understand how or why you’re lucky enough to be in this situation. it feels so raw. too much.

the floodgates open and your voice breaks, “you brought me all the way here. you’ve been so good to me, and i haven’t been scared or nothin’. and i’m so grateful. believe me, i am. so why do i feel like this? i don’- i can’t breathe, i feel so sick, i don’t get what’s wrong. i don’t know what i did. you don’t deserve this.”

tears are flowing now, and you’re letting out sobs you tried with all your might to dam up, body convulsing. kyle rubs his hand all over you, moving under your shirt for contact, nosing the nape of your neck to stable you. he won’t let it show, but he’s worried. he’s never seen you so sick. you put up a good front, but he sees the walls you build, how rigid they keep you. he’s been working hard to worm his way inside and knock them down with his bare hands.

“can you turn to me, sweet girl?”

you’re breath hitches, “i’m scared.”

“of what?”

“what if you don’t like me anymore?”

he lets out a laugh, mouth pressing against your skin to mute the sound. the vibrations tickle, and against your will you crack a downward—albeit embarrassed—smile.

“did i say something funny?” you turn to him, nervous.

“why would i not like you?” his lips quirk a smile, brown eyes are staring at your glossy face—left eye, right eye, lips, over and over.

oh. you don’t have an answer actually, which makes more tears fall. you cover your face. it all felt so stupid, so senseless.

he nuzzles the back of your hands, “c’mon, lemme see that face. talk t’me.”

you can’t help but obey, “i don’t know, ky. it’s so quiet and dark. this is all s-so new- and- and i don’t know what to do. i’m trying to be good- i was being good, and now it’s all gone and i- you can’t see me like this-.”

“shh, shh. breathe, baby,” he’s inhaling and exhaling slowly, nodding to get you to follow him.

you nod with him, in through your nose, out through your mouth, even holding your breath a bit in between.

he pecks each cheek, tongue darting out ever so slightly to clean your tears. you squirm, he chuckles.

“never asked you to be good. never asked you to be anything else but yourself, ‘kay?”

“but-.”

he interrupts you with a kiss that’s so deep, gentle, romantic. like he’s poured all his feelings for you into one lip-lock. he’s caging you in now, elbow resting by your neck, fingers pressed to your scalp. you close your eyes and breathe a real breath, nausea ebbing and heart slowing to a consistent beat.

“never asked you to be anything but mine, y’understand?”

“yes,” you sigh.

“good,” he peppers your face with kisses, “feel better?”

“a little.”

“what else can i do, baby? let me know.”

you hum, “massage, maybe?”

he nearly breaks right then and there. your eyebrows are turned up, eyes wide and pleading, bitten lip sticking out in a soft pout. jesus. how could anyone say no to that?

“anything for you.”

he turns you over on your tummy with a softness you’ve never felt from a man. your head sinks into the pillow, body already melting. he kisses down your spine, coming up to whisper nothings in your ear so sweet your throat is thick with spit and your teeth rot:

“so soft f’me,” / “keep breathing, honey,” / “prettiest thing i ever laid my eyes on,” / “y’must be so tired, poor baby,”

you’re mumbling thank you’s and sighing under his touch. his hands and knuckles untying the thick knots that formed in your shoulders.

“you don’t have to worry about being perfect around me, y’know? you already are. there’s nothin’ you gotta do except be here w’me.”

you stiffen at his words. there’s chills forming at the sound of his gravelly voice. you didn’t know your attempts at perfection were so obvious. he notices and presses into you harder, “i know, i know. you’re a little scared, huh? s’okay. i’m not changin’ my mind. you’re stuck here, with me.”

a tear of relief falls from your left eye into your right. you blink, holding back a sob.

“let it out, baby. i got you.”

you let yourself go, finally allowing kyle to see the you you’ve been hiding for the first time. you’ve been reduced to a puddle under him and he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his task of working through every lump under your skin.

he waits until your sobs have quieted to soft hiccups and sniffs, “how we feelin’ now?”

you can do nothing but nod, dancing on the line between sleep and consciousness.

he smiles, thick forearms tired and lids heavy. he huffs and lifts himself out of the bed, dragging his body to the kitchenette. you whine at the loss of contact.

“you need water.”

he returns almost as quickly as he leaves, lifting your head up so you can reach the straw that floats in the glass of ice water, cheeks squished and forcing a pout.

“drink, you’re dehydrated, baby.”

you sip, then you gulp, sitting up and grabbing the glass yourself. water dribbles down your chin, you’re almost pouring it all over yourself.

kyle tuts, “slow down, don’t want you to choke.”

“sorry,” you swallow, licking your lips.

“nuh uh. no sorries. you’re doin’ just fine,” he takes the now empty glass from your hand and puts it on the bedside table. his tired body plops on the bed beside you, hoisting you on top of him with ease. he wipes your wet face with his shirt, not caring to get snot and spit on the collar.

you’re immediately pawing at his chest and shoulders. with cold, damp lips, you leave lazy, open mouthed kisses on his neck. he lets out a noise, not exactly a moan, but some noise of pleasure.

“did so good for me, baby. don’t you ever hide from me like that again, ‘kay? my heart can’t take it,” he whispers.

he feels you nod against him, exhausted. and he’s proud. proud he was able to settle you down, proud you were able to unravel for him.

you lull each other to sleep with lethargic rubs and touches, finally able to rest fully.

———————————————————————————

a/n: i’m out of town rn and feeling very overwhelmed and anxious so i needed to lose myself in a gaz fantasy ;( i feel like under all that charm and charisma he’d be such a soft/sweet/understanding boyfriend…hope u like! sorry if this is too self indulgent

#gaz x reader #cod x reader #x reader #fic rec

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writingsonsaturn · 26 days ago

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Me checking on my followed tags seven times a day to consume as much Shawn Hatosy/Noah Wyle/The Pitt content as possible

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writingsonsaturn · 27 days ago

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Netflix & Chill

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

MDNI, warnings: smut, fingering, fluff

You’re sitting in Tim’s lap, comfortable as can be. He’s shirtless, wearing those sweatpants you bought him after proclaiming his old ones to be dismally ‘dinghy.’ You’re wearing a soft tank top and fluffy pink pajama pants. A match made in heaven. Your head is snugly lying in the crook of his shoulder, gently nestling against him. His lips keep darting over to kiss your temple every so often as his piercing blue eyes stay glued to the movie. The Fifth Element. A classic.

Tim is significantly larger than you, so your ankles are bent at his knees, helping to keep you atop him. His hands are lightly squeezing your hips, almost absentmindedly so.

While he is contentedly focusing on the movie, or at least appears to be doing so, regardless of having seen it ten times, you physically cannot. Why? Because his wandering, large hands keep traveling to the inside of your plush thighs, squeezing there momentarily before returning back to their posts at your hips. It is probably—no, definitely— naïve to assume he doesn’t know the effect he has on you, given how perceptive he is. Yet you sit, trying to keep yourself still as you tried your hardest to concentrate on the movie.

And again, his hands wander. His thumbs gently rubbing over the insides of the tops of your thighs, inches from where you are unquestionably wet. You squirm slightly, despite yourself. He notices.

“What’s the matter, sweets?” he teases, squeezing at your hips.

“Nothing,” you lie, willing yourself to stay still. He’s had a long day at work, and you also can’t give him the satisfaction of being able to rile you up with a few touches. Really, you only care about the second part. Your ego can’t handle him having an ego bigger than the one he already has.

Speaking of big… those hands squeeze your thighs again, as if to tell you that he knows. You stop breathing.

“You sure, sweetheart?” you can feel his smirk by the side of your neck.

“Mhm,” you hum, barely audible. But he notices, as always.

“Okay,” he agrees with a featherlight press of his lips to the sweet spot on your neck. You sigh, quietly, nestling into his touch. Tim Bradford is nothing if not a man of few words, rather one who enjoys quiet action.

Suddenly, he withholds his hands, reaching for his phone. A quiet breath of disappointment leaves you. He remains unbothered behind you, checking his email. “You sure nothing’s up?”

He can hide a lot of things, but he cannot hide the smugness in his voice. “I think you know there is, officer,” you tell him, a hint of sass in your voice. He stiffens at “officer.” It’s the best way you know to break his nonchalance. He sets down his phone on the cushion next to you, his hands returning to your hips.

“Care to tell me the issue, ma’am?” Ma’am is your equivalent to officer. You would try to close your legs for friction, but it would be impossible around his large legs. He has the upper hand and he knows it.

“No sir, there’s no issue,” you say meekly, squirming as his hands squeeze— hard— at your thighs.

“If that’s the case you surely wouldn’t mind me commencing a brief search, would you, ma’am?” he asks, his fingers already grazing the waistband of your pajamas. His light touch makes you shiver.

“Not at all,” you say a little dreamily, sighing as his hands dip beneath the waistband of both your pajama pants and your underwear.

“Attagirl,” his voice is low with lust. You love when he sounds like that, a little bit of a gravelly quality to his tone. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, his dominant right hand travels to your door, as his left rests on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles against it. His hand feels cool against your skin, and it’s a delicious contrast.

He feels you squirming slightly, your legs trying to close, so he widens the way he is sitting, subsequently widening your legs. “Tim…”

“You’re needy tonight, huh?” It’s not much of a question when you both already know the answer, but a soft moan leaves your lips nonetheless as his middle and ring fingers travel over your cunt. Back and forth, they play with your wetness, lubricating your expectant hole.

He’s pavloved you— before dating him you could get yourself off on your fingers, but now? Nothing can come remotely close to the pleasure that he always delivers to you. And the most infuriating part of it all— he knows it.

“Stop teasing, Tim,” you complained, your body leaning into his touch, your brain not sentient enough to let your ankles unclasp from his legs.

“Oh come on,” he taunts in your ear. “Where’s the fun in that?” His left hand travels up, cupping your covered breasts, as his lips tantalize you. Though his position is somewhat awkward, it does not stop him from pressing intentional kisses to your sweet spot.

“Ah- Tim,” a little moan escapes you from the multiple forms of stimulation, your fuzzy brain unable to compete process.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he grunts as his fingers finally dip into your heat. You gasp, your hips trying to buck down into his touch. It’s a perfect stretch, even more so when he curls them in a ‘come hither’ motion. You barely register his growing erection against the small of your back with how good he feels. Slowly he thrusts them in, curls them, and pulls all the way out before repeating the motion. It’s torturous.

“Faster, please,” you whimpered as he beginnings hitting deeper, hitting the spot he knows you love.

“Since you asked so nicely…” he begins picking up the pace, hitting the deep spot inside of you and never completely pulling back before pushing back in. Both of you are thankful that the waistband of your pj pants is so loose as he continues to bring you to the precipice of your release.

It feels so, so good. You tell him as much, in between the gasps and soft moans.

“Yeah, I know baby,” he says smugly. Your head begins to loll from the pleasure, so his left hand moves up from your breast to cup your neck. You love, love, love when he does that. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps his hand there as a reassuring presence, and good god does it turn you on all the more.

His fingers drag up to your clit, drawing small, purposeful circles against the swollen bud. You whine, leaning into his hand as he swiftly works you. It doesn’t take long before you’re soaking his fingers, crying out his name as he keeps you on a high. He continues to finger you and circle your clit until your legs are shaking, and only the does he reluctantly pull away. Your body is drooping against him, and you sigh contentedly, your eyes closing with a sweet, languid smile on your lips.

He turns you around to face him, your shaky legs straddling his lap, completely snapping you out of that sated state. You feel his rock hard erection against your core, turning you on again.

“You got one more in you, sweetheart?” he asks you, a very attractive smirk on his face.

“Only for you, Tim,” you smile happily, kissing him on the mouth.

Only for him indeed.

==================================

A/N: if you want more Tim, check out ‘This River is Wild,’ my ongoing multi-part slow burn! Hope you enjoyed this drabble :D also, if you have an idea for another short one off like this, send it my way, I’d love to give it a look!

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #the rookie #fic rec

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writingsonsaturn · 27 days ago

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but i stayed anyway

dr. robby x f!fiance!reader content: 18+ mdni, canon medical incidents (mci), shooting, mental health discussions, suicidal ideation words: 9.8k synopsis: takes place over the course of episodes 12-15. reader is a clinical psychologist who used to work in the hospital, but no longer does and is engaged to robby. robby calls reader to let her know about the shooting and asks that she not come... and guess what our reader does (: (as this is following alongside the events of episodes 12 through 15, please note that i borrowed some dialogue directly from the episodes.) a/n: hiiii besties!!! this fic is proof that democracy works 🤪 thank you for voting in my poll! the family trauma fic is soon to follow (hopefully). i listened to renegade by big red machine a lot while writing this, which to me may be the most robby coded song of all time. but yeah that's where the title comes from, if you were interested. thank you guys so much for all the love you've shown my writing the last month, i think it's time to get a masterlist up. love you, enjoy your weekend, and as always feel free to blow my inbox up.

It was almost 6PM when you were on your drive home from work that day. You thought about calling your fiancé, Michael, but figured he’d be off shift in an hour anyway. You were trying, and failing, not to be overbearing.

When he told you he intended to go to work today, you had feigned indifference, but he knew you and he heard the worry in your voice.

“Please don’t psychoanalyze me.” He said as he kissed you goodbye.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said, “You said you’re good to work today so you’re good to work today. Just, um, maybe we could check in around lunch—?”

“Stop.” He said, sighing, “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said quickly, anxious to get him out of the house so you could fret in peace, “I’ll see you later.”

Once he was gone, you got yourself ready for work and did your best not to think about it too much. Him working on the anniversary of Adamson’s death. You were, after all, a clinical psychologist and so it had been… difficult to turn off your clinical instincts when Robby had been suffering so obviously the last few years.

You had suggested a referral to many a colleague, which he politely refused each time. Insisting he was fine while day after day you watched him slip further and further into an abyss.

You had gone so far as to text Kiara, the hospital social worker, about your concerns a few months ago. Robby had been livid about that. Barely spoke to you for days after.

Your fingers itched to call her on your way into work, but you really didn’t want to start off the weekend fighting with Robby.

So you stayed away. You didn’t text or call to check in during the day. However, when Jake had texted you earlier today asking if you wanted to stop by the ER with him around lunch, you nearly gave in.

Sorry, kid, too wrapped up with work today. But make sure you give him a hug for me!

You locked your phone and put it down after that, but then a minute later couldn’t stop yourself from sending an extra text:

Also couldn’t hurt to ask him how he is.

After it was sent you rested your head on your arms and sighed.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Jake had texted you that he seemed busy, but overall fine. You knew though that Jake’s perception of fine did not match yours. Besides which, Robby would have put on a show for him, a happy face. He’d never let Jake see the crushing grief that was just behind his eyes, if only you knew where to find it. You didn’t hear anything else for the rest of the day.

So when there was still an hour of Robby’s shift left and a picture of the two of you lit up your screen to indicate an incoming call, your heart rate picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late tonight. I’m not sure how late yet.”

“Oh.” You waited for him to provide more information, but he didn’t. “Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “I don’t know. There’s an active shooter at Pitt Fest.”

“Oh, God—“ Your breath caught when you remembered your conversation with Jake earlier, “Jake’s there—“

“Yeah, do you think you could try getting in touch with him? I’ve tried calling, but it won’t go through.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“And if you don’t mind, maybe call Janey too?”

“Yes. Whatever you need.” He was quiet on the other line for a moment. You badly wanted to ask him if he was okay, but knew the answer and also knew it would only piss him off, so you waited in the silence.

“Please don’t come here,” He said finally, “I know you think you can help—“

“I can help,” You said quickly, “Kiara’s going to be slammed, I’ve worked in the hospital before, I can—“

“You don’t want to be here for this.” He said firmly. You heard someone call his name in the background, “I have to go. You’ll let me know if you hear from Jake?”

“Yeah, of course. I love—“ The line went dead before you could finish your sentence.

That was fine. Your brain was entering crisis mode anyway. You dialed Jake as you drove, about three times with no luck. Trying to keep your own anxiety in check, you called Janey and let her know what was going on and to call you or Robby if she heard from Jake.

Robby didn’t want you at the hospital, you knew that, but there was simply no way in hell you were just going to go home and twiddle your thumbs while you waited to hear from him or Jake. You were sure he knew that, too.

So, after thinking it over for a minute, you made a U turn and dialed Kiara.

As you were walking in to the ER, you ran into Jack Abbot and exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” He teased, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

“Oh, thank God you’re here too.”

“What are you doing here? You’re back at the hospital?”

“No, no, I just thought Kiara could use a hand tonight.”

He hummed, “Which roughly translates to you wanted to keep an eye on Robby.”

You feigned outrage, “Come on, Jack, I thought you’d be on my side about this.”

“I am on your side,” He laughed as you walked through the waiting room, “Why do you think I’m here?”

The two of you walked into Robby giving a pep talk to the ER staff. His face betrayed nothing when he saw the two of you, but just from looking at him it was immensely clear to you that the day had weighed on him. And now he still had miles to go.

“Brother, am I glad to see you.” He said to Abbot, pulling him into a hug.

“You,” He said, turning to you, “I specifically asked you not to come here.”

“Kiara asked me to come, and besides,” You lowered your voice, “You’re not the boss of me.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Have you heard from Jake?”

“No, I’m still trying. So is Janey.”

He nodded and then without preamble pulled you into his chest, “Thank you for coming.”

You exhaled in relief and tightened your arms around his waist, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” You murmured, “I have to go find Kiara.”

He nodded and stepped away from you, immediately shifting back into leader mode. While you slipped away, you stopped at Dana’s side, gaping at her black eye.

“Oh my God, what the fuck happened to you?” You asked, hands coming up to her face.

“Oh, please, don’t start. I don’t have time.” She pulled you into a tight hug, “Glad you’re here though, regardless of what sad boy over there says, we could use all the help we can get.”

You smirked, “Sad boy?”

She waved you off, “Gen Z lingo, ask one of the med students.”

“Hey,” You grabbed her arm as she started to run off, “You’ll come get me if he seems… sadder than usual?”

She smiled, “Yeah, you got it.”

And then she was off and you disappeared into the chaos to find Kiara.

***

You had lost count of how many times you’d called Jake. You had talked to several family members, mostly just to ask them to be patient and be sure to upload any information about their missing family members.

But you had also had to inform a woman that her husband was dead. You had done this before, the hard thing, giving someone the worst news of their lives. It was a difficult balance to be empathetic enough that you didn’t come off cold and distant, but not so empathetic that you let it destroy you.

You still hadn’t mastered it. And the fact that no one could get in touch with Jake only made it worse. As soon as you could, you excused yourself to call him again.

It rang and rang and rang and when you reached his voicemail, you hung up, hands shaking.

It felt like hours before your phone went off with a text from Dana.

Jake’s here. He’s ok. Come find me.

The relief hit you so hard you felt yourself tearing up. Taking deep breaths, you headed back into the ER, looking for Dana.

You hadn’t been back here since everything started and the sight of all the patients, the blood on the floor, nearly made you sick. You stood there, frozen in place, listening to the crying and medical jargon being shouted and wondered, not for the first time, how the fuck Robby did this all day long. You knew from experience it wasn’t normally like this, but after only a couple of hours in the ER, you had always been anxious to leave it. You never understood how anyone could do a full 12 hour shift here.

“Good, there you are.” Dana said, coming to your side, “Jake’s good, he was shot in the leg, but they’ve stopped the bleeding he’s stable.”

“Oh, thank God. Has anyone called Janey?”

Dana nodded, “She’s on her way here. But, Leah, Jake’s girlfriend,” Dana sighed and shook her head, “It’s not good. Robby’s working on her.”

You nodded, “Okay, well, that’s encouraging. Robby’s the best chance she has.”

Dana nodded, “Yeah, I’m more so worried that she was a lost cause when she got in here and Robby’s been working on her for… Well, longer than he should be in a mass casualty. Anyone else and he would’ve called it minutes ago.”

You saw where she was going with this. Leah was dead. But Robby would kill himself to bring Leah back, to not have to tell Jake he couldn’t save her. And all of this was happening on the day Adamson had died.

“Also,” Dana added, “I don’t know the details, but him and Langdon had a falling out today. He sent the kid home.”

You frowned, “What d’you mean, Langdon’s right there?” You pointed behind her to Langdon who was working on a patient.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.” She sighed, “Okay, well, don’t tell Robby you saw him. He’s gonna lose his shit when he sees him.”

You sighed and brought your hands together, “Okay. I’m going to go talk to Jake and then I’m gonna see what I can do about… Leah.”

“Thank you,” Dana said, “You’re an angel.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s a long shot he’ll listen to me.”

“Have a little faith, yeah?” And then Dana disappeared.

Closing your eyes, you breathed slowly a few times, psyching yourself up to go find Jake, and then you forced yourself to move.

You found Jake alone, on a gurney in the hallway, phone in hand and tears still wet on his cheeks.

“Oh, Jake, baby,” He looked up at the sound of your voice and his arms opened to you immediately. You wrapped him up, holding him as tightly as you could.

“Leah was shot,” He cried.

“I know, I know, I heard.”

“Robby’s with her, do you know how she is?”

You shook your head, “I just got in here, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Could you stay with me? Just until my mom gets here?”

Oh, your heart was shattering in your chest with every second that passed. You closed your eyes for a second, “I have to go handle something, but I promise I will be right back, okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah, okay. And you’ll see about Leah?”

“Yeah, of course.” You squeezed his hand and kissed the top of his head and then you were moving again.

The level of carnage was absolutely stunning and in your head you had to keep repeating to yourself over and over Find Robby. Find Robby. Find Robby. In order to keep your head on straight.

And then you saw him, in front of the hub, perched on top of the gurney like a man tied to the pyre at the center of town. You wondered idly how long he had been performing compressions. Nurses surrounding the gurney, carrying out orders as he spewed them out. All of them had the same look on their face, like they were placating a child who could not quite seem to grasp that their dog had died.

“Fuck.” You muttered.

“Good, you’re here. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” Abbot appeared behind you.

“I don’t know that he will,” You swallowed, “He’s been pushing me away for weeks.” The intensity of the situation they were in, of seeing Jake, and now his girlfriend, dead beneath Robby’s hands brought tears to your eyes.

“You have to try.” Abbot said quietly, and then he buried himself back into the fray.

You blinked the tears away rapidly and then tentatively stepped towards the gurney. You looked down at Leah’s body, all the tubes coming out of her, the gaping wound in her chest, “Robby.” You said softly and looked up.

His eyes flicked to yours quickly, then back to Leah, “It’s Jake’s girlfriend.”

“I know.” He continued compressions and gave more orders out to the nurses that you didn’t quite understand, “How long has she been down?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I thought—I thought we had a pulse for a second.”

You nodded, “But her heart stopped a long time ago, didn’t it?”

His eyes flicked up to yours again and you saw the layers of pain there that had been ripped up, likely all day long. All culminating in this girl, this one girl he couldn’t save. That he would have never been able to save, even on a good day. And despite all the people he had already helped save today and the dozens he would save after, he would never let go of Leah.

He looked back down at Leah, “It’s Jake’s… She’s Jake’s…”

“I know, baby,” You said softly, “Have you tried everything?”

“We gave her so much blood… We transfused some of her own blood… But the bullet it… It tore through her heart…”

“That sounds like you did everything you could,” You said gently, and you felt your own tears aching at the back of your throat, “It sounds like you gave Leah the best chance you possibly could have. If this didn’t work then nothing would have.” He’s still doing compressions, grimacing as he does, “Why don’t we check her pulse one more time, okay?”

He looks up at you again, your eyes pleading for him to climb off the gurney, his eyes pleading with you not to make him give up on Leah. You lift a hand up to him, a silent offering: You don’t have to do it alone.

He looked back down at Leah for another moment and you saw him fighting with himself. And then he reached for you. His gloved, blood soaked hand wrapped around yours tightly and the weight on your chest lessened marginally.

“Sophie, could you take over compressions for a moment? Dana, do you have the doppler?”

“Yeah.”

“Has it been tested?”

“No.”

Robby let go of your hand and took the doppler from Dana, quickly checking it on his own wrist. “Ok, it’s working.” He said when the sound of his own pulse echoed. “Hold compressions.”

You held your breath when he held the doppler to Leah’s neck. The silence was deafening and you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. But you kept watching Robby, never looking away from him.

“Ok.” He said finally, and you heard the tears in his throat, “That’s it, we’re done.”

He put the doppler away and wrote the time of death on her wrist chart and pulled the blanket up and over her head. You reached out for his hand again, fully expecting him to push you away, but he took it, holding it like a lifeline.

“I can tell Jake.” You said softly.

“No,” He said, shaking his head, “It’s okay, I’ll do it.”

“Robby—“

He squeezed your hand once before dropping it, turning his attention elsewhere, “You should wash your hands.”

You looked down at your hands, and sure enough, they were covered in Leah’s blood from where Robby had held them.

“Thank you,” Dana said, coming up behind you, “I wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop.”

You inhale shakily, “Don’t thank me yet. He still has to tell Jake.”

You excuse yourself before she can reply, heading straight for the bathroom. The crying starts before you’ve even fully closed the door, and then when you see the bloody footprints and the blood in the sink, you only cry harder.

You thought about Jake, about how he had told you about Leah just a couple weeks ago. The two of you giggling while he showed you pictures of her, told you about the music she loved and the TV she watched. Now you're washing her blood down the sink.

You watch the pink water and suds flow from your hands down the drain and wait for your breathing to level.

After drying off your hands, you sniffle, and then steeling yourself you walk back into the ER— And straight into Kiara.

“Hey, I was looking for you. We got a couple more positive IDs in the morgue and the families are here.” She looks at you more closely, noting your red eyes and wet cheeks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… Jake’s girlfriend just died, so.” You cleared your throat, “But I’m good, I’m ready.”

She gave you a knowing look, “You’re sure?”

You shrugged and looked around, “You can’t fully process an event like this until it’s over. The only way out is through and all that. So I’m good.”

Jake was waiting for you, you remembered, but you couldn’t face him right now. Couldn’t lie to him when you had watched Robby pull that blanket up over Leah’s head.

“Alright.” Kiara said, and the two of you began walking back to the cafeteria.

***

After helping Kiara with two family notifications, you excused yourself back to the ER, wanting to check on Robby and Jake.

Walking back into the chaos was just as upsetting the second time. You clenched your fists as you walked through, looking for Robby or Dana or Abbot. The first person your eyes found was Abbot, monitoring a patient and talking a resident through a procedure.

“Hey,” You said, walking up to him, “Have you seen Robby?”

He looked up from his patient and looked around, “Hey Dana?” He shouted, “You seen Robby?”

“No,” She called back, “I was just about to ask you the same.”

“Shit,” You murmured and started walking again.

“Y/N?” Dana called.

“Yeah, I’m on it.” You called as you passed her.

You opened every room, asked every doctor and nurse you passed, but no one had seen him.

Finally, you overheard someone mention that they were using the Peds room as a makeshift morgue and it clicked.

Robby didn’t talk to you much about the pandemic or about Adamson afterwards, but when he had been in it. When he came home on this day four years ago, he had been so distraught, so desperate, he had tried at first to talk about it. And you remembered how he explained to you that they put Adamson in Peds for lack of space. It had really stuck with him, for some reason, that Adamson had died in Peds.

If now the morgue was in Peds. And Leah was in the morgue. And Robby was the one who took her there. Well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why no one could find Robby.

You walked quickly, occasionally stopping to ask for directions or to see if anyone had seen Robby. Langdon was the most helpful, saying he saw Robby go in the morgue with Jake and then Jake came out, but not Robby.

“Hey, what’s going on with the two of you today?” You asked.

“Me and Robby?” He looked around as if to see if anyone else was listening, “Why, what have you heard? Did he say something to you?”

You raised your eyebrows, “No, but Dana said he sent you home hours ago.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “It was a misunderstanding.”

You nod and then shrug, “Okay.”

“Are you analyzing me or something?”

You give a short laugh and then start backing away from him, “Are you paying me? I don’t analyze for free, Frank. I’m very expensive.”

You were hoping to get more from Langdon on what was going on. It was becoming more and more apparent that a lot of shit had happened today during Robby’s shift even before the shooting.

But, you didn’t have time for that, you supposed. You’d have to go in blind, trust your instincts, hope to God you don’t say the wrong thing to push him away.

And when you walk into Peds, you realize just how in over your head you are.

Robby’s on the ground, Star of David necklace clutched in his hand, eyes closed tight as he shakily murmured to himself in Hebrew.

You had never seen him pray before. He had struggled with his faith after the passing of his grandmother and ever since working in the ER. As long as you’d known him, his relationship with God had been tenuous or nonexistent.

So if he was praying right now, well, that scared the shit out of you.

You lowered yourself to the ground in front of him, not touching him or saying anything, just wanting him to know you were there.

After a few moments of you sitting in front of him, his breathing just starting to level and the tears slowing, you tried to find the right thing to say. Nothing you said, you knew, would fully be able to help him process whatever this was. Whatever had happened in here with him and Jake. That was for another time.

It went against everything you were taught as a clinician to push Robby back into the work when that was the reason he was on this floor, wrecked beyond recognition. But people were dying out there. And more would die if you couldn’t manage to pull him out of the riptide.

“I heard one of your interns just did a REBOA without supervision.” His eyes darted to yours at that, “I don’t know what that means, but everyone seems pretty pissed about it.”

“What is this?” He asked, voice gravelly.

“What?”

“You’re not going to ask if I’m okay or ask me how it makes me feel that Leah’s dead and Jake blames me?”

Ah. Well, that certainly explained the situation they were in. The straw that broke the camel’s back was Jake. The closest thing he had to a son, rejecting him in his lowest moment and reaffirming every untrue belief he held about himself.

You shook your head, “I think it’s pretty clear you’re not fucking okay. None of us are okay right now.” You glanced over your shoulder through the glass door, “I could give you the heartfelt pep talk if you want, about how I know you’re the best doctor in this whole damn hospital and how I know if you couldn’t save Leah no one could and how I know Jake loves you even if he’s angry and hurting. But I don’t think you’re in the space to receive that right now.”

His breathing was shaky and he fiddled with his necklace, not looking at you anymore. You weren’t sure if you were blowing it or not, but this was the best you could do right now without falling apart yourself.

“What I think you need to hear right now is that people are still dying out there. People who are loved, who have families, just like Leah did. And they need you.”

He shook his head, sobbing, “I can’t.”

Your eyes watered and you swiped a tear from your cheek hurriedly, frustrated at yourself for crying, “I know that’s how it feels. But I also know you’ll never forgive yourself if you leave your department out there to fend for themselves all night while you sit in here.” You sniffed, “And I’m really gonna need you to forgive yourself for this someday, Michael.”

At that, he did look up at you. The unspoken words in what you were saying. You loved this man with every beat of your heart. But you weren’t sure how much longer it could go on like this. You, desperately trying to throw him a life vest and him actively swimming further away from you.

He needed to want to get better and you weren’t sure how to make him want it, to see that this was unsustainable and destroying him. And he was pulling you down with him.

Eyes glittering with tears, you rose to your feet and reached a hand out to him for the second time that day.

He looked back down at the floor for a moment and your heart sank, but then you felt the brush of his fingers on your palm. You swallowed down a sob that threatened to choke you and gripped his hand, helping him off the floor.

Once he was at his full height, you brought your hands to either side of his face and gently pulled him to you, pressing kisses to his cheeks and forehead before resting your head to his.

His breathing wavered only slightly as he rested his own hands at the base of your neck.

“Okay?” You asked tentatively after you’d both been standing there like that for a few moments.

He swallowed and nodded, “Yeah.”

As you stepped away from him, your hand trailed down his arm until you were just holding his hand. You squeezed once and he squeezed back. You dropped his hand as you turned for the door and you felt his hand at the small of your back as the two of you left Peds.

Things seemed to be beginning to slow down now. You watched from a distance as Robby breezed by you, pulled off his bloody robe and encouraged his residents. As if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been destroyed just moments ago. It was astounding to you, the way he could so quickly shift gears.

But then, as he was putting on a new robe, Gloria appeared. You stepped closer to the hub and watched the exchange anxiously. You almost turned and walked away as things seemed to be going okay, but then the conversation shifted to discussions of unscreened blood donors and a shooter with a hit list and then Robby exploded.

“Jesus Gloria!”

You were shoulder to shoulder with Abbot when he lost it and your breath caught, “Your turn.” You murmured to Jack and backed yourself into a chair next to Dana at the hub.

“Hey, get some air, brother.” Abbot said as soon as Robby was close enough, “Go check on triage.”

When he disappeared out the ambulance bay doors, you rested your head in your hands.

“Should we be worried about him?” Abbot asked as he walked around the hub.

“Yes,” You said, “Everyone should be very, very worried about him.”

“Awesome,” Jack sighed and went back to see more patients.

You kept an eye on the ambulance bay, tears still constantly threatened to spill over. You wanted to go home, but not if Robby didn’t come with you.

“It’s slowing down, right?” You asked Dana, eyes shining as she turned to you.

She gave you a sad smile and squeezed your shoulder, “Yeah, kid. It’ll be over soon.”

***

You had sat with Jake after that until Janey came. You had squished yourself into his non-injured side and rested your head on top of his.

“You know Robby would’ve traded his life for Leah’s in a second if he could have. He would’ve done anything to not see you hurt like this.” You said gently.

Jake had sat there quietly so you had decided not to push. The two of you sat in silence for a while.

You watched Robby whenever he passed by and almost without fail, his eyes fell to Jake whenever he passed. You had heard there was a measles case in the ER. Not contagious, but it was something Robby had said to you months ago he feared the most. That this anti vaccination trend was going to boil over and sooner or later, diseases like the measles that had largely been eradicated, would return. You couldn’t believe this was happening today of all days.

When Janey got to Jake, you reluctantly left him.

“Oh, please, don’t leave on my account,” Janey said smiling, “I really appreciate you staying with him.”

“Please, it’s my pleasure,” You squeezed Jake’s hand again before climbing off his gurney, “But I really have to go find Robby and see if I can drag him home. He might collapse soon if he doesn’t get out of here.” You turned back to Jake, “You’ll text me if you need anything, right? I mean anything.”

He shrugged, “Sure, whatever.”

You knew he was acting this way probably because he saw you as an extension of Robby. And it sucked. You loved Jake. Had loved him for years now, since he was just a little kid. It would pass, you told yourself. It had to.

“Janey,” You pulled her off a little away from Jake, “This is not unsolicited advice, just an offer from a friend: I would be happy to refer him to a colleague if at any point you think he needs to talk to someone.”

Janey gave you a watery smile, “Thank you.”

“You have my number?” She nods, “Okay. Well, please, if either of you need anything, Robby and I are just a call away.”

Janey nodded, “And also not unsolicited advice, just the observation of a friend, but I’m worried about Robby. You’ll make sure he’s alright, right?”

You looked down at your hands, at the ring on your finger, then looked back up at Janey, “Right now I can’t see past the next hour or so, but I am trying my damnedest to keep him above water.”

Janey nodded and squeezed your hand before you headed back towards the hub. As you were heading there, though, you thought you heard Robby’s voice yelling coming from the elevators.

You locked eyes with Dana, and frowning, slowly turned towards the direction of the yelling. You walked down a hallway to find Robby in a heated discussion with Dr. Shen, but when his eyes landed on you he disengaged.

“While I am glad that you are… functioning again,” You said quietly, “If you keep screaming at people, I’m gonna need to forcibly bring you home.”

He had a hand on your shoulder as he steered you through the ER, “You should go home,” He said, “Nothing else for you to do here, Kiara doesn’t need you anymore, I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“No,” You said immediately, “No, I’m sorry, I’m not leaving here without you. If you want me to leave, you’ll have to come with me.”

He sighed, “I wish you wouldn’t make this so difficult.”

You bit your lip to stop it from wobbling, “And I wish you’d stop pushing me away.”

He stares at you for a few moments, opening his mouth as if to argue when there’s a commotion at the hub that has you both turning.

“Is that… Is McKay…?” You start, but Robby’s already walking. You follow, but keep your distance, listening as he puts the cops in their place.

The pride flared in your chest, as it always does. This is the man you fell in love with, the one who stood up for what he believed in, for his students and staff, regardless of the cost.

When it’s done and they let McKay go, Gloria is back. You watch with some tension as Robby reports the status of all the mass casualty patients. But there’s no further incident and Robby walks past you on his way to another patient, “Go home.” He whispers as he walks by.

You tried not to let it hurt, how he seemed to be desperate for you to go away. But after the way the last few hours had unfolded, it was getting difficult. You parked yourself at the hub, trying to contain your sniffling as you again looked at the ring on your finger.

He was having an astronomically hard day, you knew. But had the two of you not made a great team? Weren’t you the only one who could get through to him when everything around him seemed to be crumbling?

“Hey, kid,” Dana said softly and pushed a cup of coffee your way, “You doing okay?”

You tried to smile, but nearly broke, “Fine, I’ll be fine. And you?”

She gave a short laugh, “I’ve seen better days.”

You sipped the coffee Dana had given you, “I hear that.”

***

You tried not to seem too eager the next time you saw Robby at the hub. He tells Dana that he’s stepping outside with a sandwich and a juice box, and then you feel his shadow above you, and look up, “Dana says you look like you’re experiencing an existential crisis.”

You nod, “Probably a normal reaction to what we’ve all experienced here tonight. Unlike some people in this place I don’t see experiencing the normal range of human emotions as a character flaw.”

He nodded slowly, “Is there anything I can say to get you out of here?”

You almost laughed, “Can I ask you a question? Is the insistence on getting me out of here out of concern for my emotional well being or is it just because you know I’m the only person here who can truly help you and you don’t think you deserve help?”

“And if it’s both?” He locked his red rimmed eyes with yours and gave you a sad smile.

A rare bit of honesty and it floored you. You reached for his hand, “Robby—“

“I need some air and to eat,” He said backing away, “We’ll leave soon, I promise.”

You watched him disappear into the ambulance bay, having to physically restrain yourself from following. But then, you watched Langdon follow after him.

“Oh, no.” You sighed. You debated with yourself for about thirty seconds whether or not to follow, “Fuck it.” You muttered to yourself and then followed them outside.

“—I was never high, I was just treating my own withdrawal symptoms—“

“Which you should’ve done under the care and supervision of a physician.”

Oh, fuck. You stopped walking just past the ambulance bay doors, unsure if maybe you should go back inside.

“You could’ve come to me, but instead now you could face felony charges for stealing controlled substances from a hospital.”

Holy shit. You had thought the whole thing with Langdon earlier today must’ve been related to patient care or maybe the new residents or med students. But this was much, much more than a disagreement about care or teaching methods.

“You need help.”

“What about you, man? I’m not the only one fucked up here! Look in the mirror!”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Perhaps you should go back inside. This was only going to get worse.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You heard the edge in Robby’s voice. The frustration, the exhaustion, the disappointment. He was practically begging Frank to say the quiet part out loud so he’d have an excuse to explode.

“I never had a complete meltdown.”

“No, you just cause them in other people.”

This was past the point of being a productive conversation, but you knew if you intervened you’d probably just make it worse.

“You’re blaming me for what happened to you?”

“What happened to me? What happened to me?! Oh, you are so full of shit. You let me down! You let everybody down! Especially yourself.”

Robby turned to walk back inside and you started to as well, but then Frank spoke again.

“Somebody saw you in Peds.”

Robby stopped cold. You couldn’t watch this anymore. You moved to go grab Robby, wanting to drag him inside, but he was already walking back to Frank, “Who? Y/N?”

You looked down at your shoes and tried not to feel betrayal. That he thought you would tell anyone about how you had found him, in his most vulnerable state.

“No, a night shift nurse saw you on the floor. Said it looked like—“

“Looked like what? LOOKED LIKE WHAT?!” You flinched and blew out a slow breath between your lips. “This job will fuck you up if you let it. You let it.”

Robby started walking again, still not having seen you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t the one talking to cartoon animals in Peds.”

“FUCK. YOU.” Robby shouted as he kept walking back towards the ER.

When he laid eyes on you, he almost stopped in his tracks. He shook his head and sighed, walking past you, “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be here.�� He said as you followed him inside, “You shouldn't have heard that.”

“He is desperate,” You said quickly, a long shot attempt at damage control, “And experiencing withdrawal, I know you know what that does to people. He didn’t mean any of that.”

“You doing okay, man?” Abbot asked as the two of you approached the hub.

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you did take the parent of a patient into our makeshift morgue, never mind that it’s technically a fucking crime scene. That’s just not cool, man.”

Robby didn’t deny this, and you slowly turned to him, horror clear on your face, “Okay, you are done with patients today. Do you hear me?” He wouldn’t look at you, pretending to be very focused the chart in front of him, “Robby.” You said sharply.

Finally he looked up at you. “I know,” He said softly, “You’re right. I’m done.”

Just then Gloria came down, talking about getting Robby and Abbot in front of a press conference. It was absolutely inconceivable to you that after what had happened here today Gloria had the fucking audacity to ask for more from her doctors, but Robby must’ve sensed you were about to tell her as much because he gently put an arm in front of you and pushed you behind him.

“Trust me, Gloria, you don’t want me speaking to the press right now.”

“Or ever.” Abbot added.

After Gloria’s little speech about ER cowboy nonsense, Ellis shouted some sort of medical jargon about a patient that had both Robby and Abbot’s head shooting up.

“What the fuck?” Abbot murmured, exasperated.

To your dismay, Robby began following him, “Robby!” You called after him, “No more patients!”

“Yeah,” He called back, “I’ll just be a second.” And he disappeared behind the trauma room door.

“Unbelievable.” You sighed and watched Robby anxiously from the hub, biting at your cuticles anxiously.

A few minutes later, he came back out and started talking to Dana as he stood next to you. As he did so, he pulled your hand from your mouth to stop you from biting, holding your hand within both of his.

“Could you please find the remaining day shift so I can do a quick debrief and we can all go home?”

Dana nodded and was off and then Robby sighed heavily. Feeling brave now that he had grabbed your hand on his own, you stood in front of him.

“Hey,” You said softly, “Come here.”

To your surprise, he allowed your touch, in fact, he buried his face in your shoulder of his own volition. You lightly scratched the back of his head and turned your head inward just slightly so you could press kisses to his skin, “Everything’s going to be okay.” You said softly.

He nodded into your shoulder before gently pulling away from you and rubbing a hand over his face.

The day shift had gathered and he released your hand to walk around the front and give the debrief.

The speech was hard to listen to, the emotion in Robby’s voice unmistakable.

“None of us are gonna forget today.” He voice faltered and he rubbed at the tears in his eyes, “even if we really really want to. So, go home. Let yourselves cry. You’ll feel better. It’s just… Grief… Leaving the body.”

You swiped at your own tears as Robby finished and headed off. You immediately walked after him, following him to the memorial wall where Adamson’s portrait was.

You slowed your walk as you approached him, “He would’ve been so proud of everything you did here today.” You said softly.

Robby sniffed and nodded, “I wish he had been here.”

You nodded, “He would’ve made the same decision you did, you know? To take him off the ECMO.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, maybe.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, “If it had been you, instead… And it was one of your students who extubated. Would you have wanted them to blame themselves like this?”

He sighed heavily, screwing his eyes shut tight.

“If it had been Heather, or Samira, …or Frank? What would you tell them?” He didn’t answer the question, which was fine. It was rhetorical, you both knew what he would say. It would sound a lot like what he had just told them all after this shift from hell. You nudged your shoulder with his, “It’s time you start showing yourself that same grace, hm?” You said gently.

He nodded and then turned to look at you. The grief had settled into his face. He had had these sad, weary eyes the entire night. “Thank you for coming today.” He said, “I know I don’t say it enough, that I push you away when I need you most—“

“It’s okay,” You said softly, “We don’t have to do this now. Not until you’ve slept and eaten. Okay?”

He nodded, blinking away the tears. He looked back towards central, “I just want to check in on Jake and then we can go.”

“Okay,” You intertwined your fingers with his, “I’ll come with you.”

The two of you walk back in to central and head towards North Three, where Jake is with Janey. As you get closer, you let go of his hand, standing just behind him as he looked at Janey and Jake, “How are we doing?”

“We’re doing okay,” Janey said and turned to Jake, “Right?”

Jake didn’t say anything and so Robby went on, “I know that this is difficult. This is gonna hurt for a long time and it’s okay if you wanna blame me. Just, please don’t blame yourself. We’ve been friends for a long time, I would hate it—“

“No we’re not friends,” Jake spat, “And you’re not my father so fuck off.”

Robby stood there frozen. You couldn’t see his face, but you could only imagine the devastation he felt even if he wasn’t showing it on his face. Your hands itched to reach for his so you clasped them in front of you instead.

“Jake.” Janey admonished, but Robby was already walking away.

“Robby,” It was Donnie now stopped him as he was walking away, “Parents of Jake’s girlfriend, Leah, are here. I put them in the viewing room.”

Robby nodded and affectionately patted Donnie on the shoulder.

“Wait, Robby,” You walked quickly to catch up to him, “I’m going with you.”

“No,” He said quickly.

“I wasn’t asking.”

He stopped and turned back to you, “You don’t work here anymore, the fact that you even helped Kiara today I know I’m gonna get shit about from Gloria—“

“Screw Gloria!” You hissed, “I mean, since when do you give a fuck what she thinks anyway? I can help.”

He sighed, “Don’t fight me on this.” He said finally, “You won’t win.”

And then he turned on his heel and left. Christ, he was so fucking frustrating today.

“Um, Dr. Y/L/N?”

You turned at the unfamiliar voice who was addressing you with such formality. She was a tiny brunette, her hair tied back in a short ponytail, and ice blue eyes.

“Y/F/N is fine.” You said, perplexed that someone you didn’t know was addressing you as Doctor. You hadn’t worked at the hospital in so long, most of the people here now simply knew you as Robby’s fiancée and either forgot or didn’t know about your PhD.

“Sorry to bother you, I’m Dr. Trinity Santos. I’m one of Dr. Robby’s new residents. I heard you used to work here? Do psych consults in the ED?”

You nodded, “Yeah, not just here, every floor. But because of the nature of the ER I was here pretty frequently. What can I do for you, Dr. Santos?”

“I have an overdose who came in from Pitt Fest and I’ve confirmed it was a suicide attempt… It’ll likely be days before he gets up to psych. I was just wondering if maybe you could have a conversation with him? Maybe point him in the direction of resources outside of the hospital?”

“Um,” You looked towards the door Robby had just left through, then back to Trinity, “Yeah. Of course. Lead the way.”

***

You sighed as you walked out of the patient’s room with Dr. Santos, “That was a really good catch on your part,” You said to her, “He seemed like a really tough egg to crack, but you got through to him. Really excellent work for an intern, Dr. Santos. Keep it up.”

She beamed at you, “Thank you. And thank you for talking to him, I really think it’ll make a difference.”

“Anytime,” You said and then turned to head back towards the viewing room.

Seeing that patient with Dr. Santos reminded you of what you missed about working at the hospital. You loved collaborating with other clinicians and physicians on a case, the team work and multiple perspectives it brought. Now, you mostly worked on your own for any given case, unless you really needed advice. But the work was more solitary now, which could be quite isolating.

As awful as tonight had been, you realized you really missed being apart of a team.

“Hey, Abbot,” You called to Jack as you got to the hub, “Have you seen Robby? He was notifying Leah’s parents, but then someone grabbed me for a consult and now I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Consult?” He tugged on the stethoscope around his neck, “I thought you don’t work here anymore?”

You tilted your head a bit, “What’re you gonna do, tell Gloria on me?” He gave a short laugh, “Seriously though, Robby?”

He sighed, “I haven’t seen him since the debrief.”

“Okay,” You tried not to panic, but you knew he must be in bad shape. But he wouldn’t go home without you, “Is there a place he goes when he’s upset? Do you think he’s just getting some air out in the ambulance bay or—“

“The roof.” Abbot said.

“Excuse me?”

Abbot scratched the back of his head, “The roof, we go to the roof sometimes to… contemplate.”

You stared at him for a moment and then scoffed, “You ER physicians and your suicidal ideation,” You pushed off the hub and started backing away, “I have half a mind to get you all admitted to psych on 72 hour holds.”

Jack laughed, “Yeah, good luck finding the beds.”

You took a brisk pace heading up to the roof and by the time you got there, you were out of breath. Stepping out into the Pittsburgh night air, you took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay. The sun would rise again tomorrow. The world would keep spinning. Life would go on.

Your eyes fell to Robby, standing over the railing and far too close to the edge of the building.

And you would get Robby off this roof, safely.

You approached the railing slowly and quietly, but he heard you, his head turned slowly in your direction before he turned back to the skyline, “You shouldn’t be up here.”

“Neither should you,” You leaned on the railing, “Abbot implied you come up here a lot, though.”

He shrugged, “Maybe I just like the view.” He said, but he sniffled.

You hummed, “It is quite lovely up here.”

You swung your leg over the railing and Robby swore as he grabbed you, making sure to stabilize you before your feet got their bearings. When it seemed like you weren’t going to go flying over the edge, he released you.

“It’s you and Jake.” He murmured after the two of you had stood silently for a few moments.

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Every time I come up here,” He rubbed at his eyes, “I think about it. Just taking that extra step over the ledge. But I never do, because I think about leaving you and Jake and I can’t do that. But now, Jake...” He shook his head and scratched the back of his head.

“Jake loves you,” You said, “He just needs time. And you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

He shook his head, “And how long until I fuck that up for good, too?”

You inhale deeply, “You know, self fulfilling prophecies are a real thing. So if you convince yourself that you’re going to lose me, chances are you’ll continue to behave in ways that’ll make you lose me.”

He turned to look at you, “I really don’t like when you use your clinical brain to describe our relationship.”

“Sorry. It’s a defense mechanism. Knowing what’s happening and why makes me feel like I can fix it.” You sighed, “You know you can’t keep going like this, right?”

He nodded, tears tracing paths down his cheeks, “I shut down. The moment everybody needed me the most I couldn’t do it. I choked.”

You frowned, “That’s not how I remember it.”

“You know damn well I broke.”

“You didn’t break. You fell apart for a couple minutes, so fucking what? Any other feeling person in your position would have done the same. It’s a strength, not a weakness.” He was shaking his head, “106 people get to go home because of your leadership. I think that more than outweighs the two minutes you took to cry.”

You climbed over the railing and held out a hand to him, “Now I’d like to go home, if you have no further objections.”

You watched his shoulders heave shakily for a few moments before he finally turned and grabbed your hand.

***

Walking through the threshold of the home you shared with Robby nearly made you fall to your knees after the last several hours in the hospital. It was messy, neither of you had had a chance to clean in a while. Unopened mail piled on the console table. Books strewn haphazardly around the living room. A half done crocheting project you had started a week ago was abandoned on the couch. Robby’s toolbox sat, opened by the door to the guest room that he had attempted to replace the doorknob on, but never finished. The dishwasher was full and clean, needing to be emptied and reloaded with the dirty dishes that sat in the sink.

Regardless of the mess, you felt the tension start to ebb out of your body as the warm lights lit up a path to the living room. Unceremoniously, you threw some books and a stray remote out of the way before turning to Robby and forcing him to sit on the couch,

“I’m going to run you a bath,” You said, “Think about what you want to order for takeout?”

“I’m not hungry.” He said, and then reached for you, pulling you straight on top of him.

You chuckled, “Let me go run the bath for you, please?”

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, securing you to his chest, and he kissed your hair, “Just stay with me for a few minutes?”

The smell of him and the feel of his arms around you were more than a bit enticing, unfortunately. You sank into him, pressing your nose into his neck, “Fine. But only a few minutes.”

The rhythm of his breathing, of his heart beat against your skin, lulled you into that place just between waking and dreaming. You hummed, “If I don’t get up now, I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“Would that be so bad?” His voice was thick with exhaustion.

You yawned, “Yes, actually. Your back will be absolutely fucked tomorrow if you fall asleep on this couch.”

You pushed yourself off him and he rubbed his hands over his face. After starting the bath, you went to the fridge and pulled out a container of left over pasta. Grabbing a fork, you took the cold pasta back to the couch and took a bite. You speared a few more noodles and put it in front of Robby’s mouth.

He looked up at you with annoyance, “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“Just a couple bites, please.”

He sighed heavily, but opened his mouth and watched as you grinned with satisfaction as you fed him the cold pasta.

A few minutes later you put the pasta away and checked on the bath, which was now full. Turning off the water, you headed back to the living room. Robby was still lying on the couch, eyes red rimmed as he stared at the ceiling.

“Come on, baby,” You said softly, holding out your hand, “Bath’s ready.”

He wordlessly took your hand, allowed you to lead him into the bathroom. He watched you carefully as you helped him take off his clothes. “Are you okay?” He asked, softly enough that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said quickly, but he stilled you by gently grabbing your wrists.

“Look at me,” Your eyes flicked up to his, “Are you okay?” He asked again.

You blinked rapidly to dispel the burning that was quickly accumulating at the back of your eyes, “I’ll be fine.” You said slowly and nodded your head towards the bath, “Get in, please, before it gets cold.”

He let your non answer pass for the moment, but you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. As much as your persistence on his own well being irritated him, he could be the same way when you were clearly unwell and not being honest about it.

“Get in with me.” He said, already tugging at your clothes.

You sighed, “This is for you, I’m trying to take care of you.”

“Yes,” He smiled tightly, unbuttoning your pants and gently tugging down, “And I want you in the bath with me. Okay?”

You could feel your eyes beginning to water, which is exactly what you didn’t want. You wanted, needed, desperately to focus on the act of taking care of Michael so that you wouldn’t fall apart. And now he was shifting the focus.

He lowered himself in first and then held out a hand for you, helping as you lowered yourself in between his legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pulled until your back was flush to his chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed the side of your neck, “Thank you,” He murmured against your skin, “For not giving up on me today even though I was a bit of a jerk to you.”

“I know you don’t mean it,” You said, “Most of the time when you push me away it’s because you think you don’t deserve the help, not because you don’t want it.”

You both listened to the drip of the faucet for a few moments in silence before he spoke, “I think I’d like to start seeing a therapist.” He said slowly, “If you know a guy.”

The corners of your lips inched up just slightly, “I’ve had a whole roster ready for you for about two years now, take your pick. I’ll print out a list tomorrow.”

He hummed, “I don’t want to lose you,” He said slowly, “And I know if you were anyone else, you likely would’ve been out that door years ago. So, I’m…” He takes a deep, shuddering breath and you place a hand on his thigh beneath the water, squeezing encouragingly, “I’m going to get better. I’m going to be the man you deserve.”

You were encouraged by him finally admitting that something was wrong. He had never done that before. He had never asked you for a referral. But you knew it was still a long road. Things would continue to be very difficult going forward. But if he was willing to try and fight for you, for himself, that was enough for right now.

“I love you,” You said softly, “And I’m going to hold you to this, just so you know.”

“I know,” He pressed his mouth to your shoulder, his beard scratching at your skin, “I love you too.”

“I want to come back to the hospital,” You said after the two of you had been sitting in silence for a few minutes.

You felt him inhale heavily behind you, “I don’t need a babysitter—“

“Not because of you,” You said quickly, “Though I won’t act like it wouldn’t ease my own anxiety being nearby while we’re working. But I… miss being on a care team, the collaboration. I realized today how isolating it is working at a clinic.”

“Well,” He sighed, “I miss working with you, too, actually. The other psychologists don’t laugh at my jokes.”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, “Hate to tell you, Robinavitch, but most of the time I was laughing at your jokes it was because I had a massive crush on you, not because I found them funny.”

You felt his chest rumble with laughter behind you and your heart swelled with the sound.

Later, when the two of you finally climbed into bed, he pulled you to him, your foreheads bent together. Your hand rested gently on his cheek.

You both sat in the dark like that for a while, silently mulling over the events of the day. You couldn’t get the feeling of Leah’s blood on your hands out of your head. The look on Robby’s face when he had finally called time of death. The families you had had to tell that their child, sibling, spouse was dead.

You don’t know which of you started crying first, just that once it started, one of you clawed for the other, pulling each other as close as your bodies would allow. Without any words exchanged between you, you both just held onto each other as wave after wave of grief rolled through. Until eventually, the tears dried and sleep came for them, still wrapped up in one another’s arms.

The moon and the stars faded and the sun rose again.

#the pitt fic #dr robby #michael robinavitch fic #fic rec

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writingsonsaturn · 27 days ago

Text

hehehehe

IN THE CAR.

summary: after a year of unresolved tension during their shifts at the PTMC’s ER, a young resident and Dr. Robinavitch finally gives in to their desires. A night at the bar, drinking some beers turns heated and they end up hooking-up in the backseat of a car. But it turns out to be way more intimate than they thought.

pairing: michael robinavitch x younger!afab!resident.

cw: +18. mdni. praise. fingering. protected piv. mutual pining. semi-public sex. dubcon (tipsy people). power imbalance (mild). multiple orgasms. emotional sex. use of the word “kid” to describe reader (non-sexual).

taglist: @blastzachilles @lvve-talks @jordiemeow @strfallz @222col @soulxinxthexsky @diyasgarden @jinxedbambi @lexiiscorect @religionlost @bluestrd @jclolz22 @destinedtobegigi @fwaist @imperishablereverie @lovefaist @shahabaqsa0310 @prismozo @jesuistrestriste @grimsonandclover @nozhdyved

It starts the same way it always does—with a glance across Trauma 2 that lasts too long.

Robby's hands are still gloved, speckled with drying blood as he tosses the surgical shears into the bin with a sharp clatter. He’s focused, grim-faced, sleeves rolled to the elbow, straight hair going crazy on his head. You shouldn’t be watching him, not when your own hands are wrist-deep in charting and your resident badge is still clipped too tight to your scrub pocket. But you do. Everyone does, when Robby’s in the room.

You’ve been working with him for a year. A whole year of tense shifts, slow nods of approval, the brush of his hand at your back when you edge past him in trauma bays, the infuriating way he never says anything more than strictly necessary—unless it’s at 7pm, after back-to-back code blues, when his voice goes quiet and kind.

“You did good today,” he’ll murmur then, just for you.

That’s when it burns.

Tonight, he doesn’t say anything at all until the end of shift, when the patient finally stabilizes and the buzz of adrenaline dulls to the usual fluorescent-tinted hum of the PTMC ER. You’re both still moving, wiping down carts, scribbling notes, both pretending not to watch the other.

“You heading home?” His voice cuts through the silence like a scalpel—low, casual, dangerous.

You glance up, and there’s that look again. That look. Like you’re already under him, flushed and ruined. Like he can imagine how you tease. “I was gonna grab a beer,” you say, too casual, too practiced. “You?”

He wipes a hand over his face, scratching his short beard, pausing just long enough. “Yeah. Yeah, I could use one.”

The bar is a dive, five blocks from the hospital, dimly lit with sticky tables and a jukebox that only plays tragically earnest ‘90s rock. You end up at a booth in the back, the kind with torn leather and a tabletop you keep accidentally brushing your knees under.

You’re not even halfway through your first pint before it starts.

The staring.

The laughing too hard at his dry, grumbly sarcasm. The way he pushes your beer toward you with his knuckles and murmurs, “Drink, kid,” like you’re already his.

“Why do you call me that?” you ask, fingers curled around the cold glass. “You know I’m not that much younger.”

Robby chuckles, and it’s not fair—his laugh is too soft, too rare, and it turns your stomach in the good, awful way. “You’re young. You still get excited about things like charting.”

You nudge his knee beneath the table. “You still get excited about good central lines.”

“Touché.”

He’s already unzipping his sweatshirt, the white shirt shirt his scrub is low enough to see a good portion of his throat, and you’re tipsy enough to be watching his Adam’s apple move when he swallows.

You should stop drinking. But you don’t.

Somewhere between the second and third round, things tip.

He’s leaning in closer than he should. His hand brushes yours when he goes to pick up his glass, and this time—this time—he doesn’t pull away. He watches you, eyes narrowed, lip twitching like he’s fighting something. You don’t dare say anything. You don’t dare breathe too loud.

But the silence gets thicker. He’s looking at your mouth now.

“I should…” you start, heart racing, “get going.”

He nods slowly, blinking hard like he’s waking up from something. “Yeah. Let me walk you to your car.”

The parking lot’s empty, dark, the street lamp flickering. The night is humid, windless. You pause by your car door, and he’s still beside you, too close again. You also can smell him. “Thanks for the drinks,” you say, trying to be polite, steady, professional. You even smile. It trembles.

Robby doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks down at you, expression unreadable, jaw tight. You can feel your pulse behind your ears, a low drumbeat of is this it, is this the moment, are you finally going to—

“You drive okay?” he asks, finally, voice rough. “You didn’t drink too much?”

You shrug. “Three beers. I’m good. Buzzed, maybe. But I’ll be alright.”

He nods. Then—quiet, soft, gravel-low: “You sure?” It’s not about driving. You know it. He knows it. The air between you practically warps with the weight of it. He shifts on his feet and so do you. Closer.

“Are you?” you ask, not moving anymore. Not unlocking the door. Not looking away.

Something cracks behind his eyes. He exhales, shaky. “Fuck. I’ve been trying so hard not to—”

You don’t let him finish. Your hand’s already fisting the front of his sweatshirt, dragging him in. The kiss is messy, half teeth, way too desperate. His hands cup your face, then your jaw, and then they’re gripping your hips so tight you gasp into his mouth. He groans, low and ragged, when you press your thigh between his.

“You have no idea,” he mutters, half against your lips, “how long I’ve wanted—”

“Then get in the car,” you whisper, drunk on adrenaline and beer and him. “Please.”

The inside of your car still smells like hand sanitizer and cheap coffee, but you don’t care.

Robby’s hand is in your hair before the door’s even shut. The moment the lock clicks, he’s pulling you toward him again, kissing you like he’s been starving for months. Like something broke open the moment you said please, and now there’s no stuffing it back inside.

His mouth is warm and commanding, tasting of beer and frustration and heat. Your hands slide under his scrubs and white shirt, fingertips brushing the soft hair on his chest, and he hisses between his teeth at the contact.

“Jesus, love…” His voice is frayed, guttural. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“You don’t want to?” Robby pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. His expression is dark, intense — eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, his breath hot against your cheek.

“I want this so bad it’s fucking me up.” You swallow hard, your whole body buzzing. “Then do it. I’ve wanted you for so long.” He exhales sharply, like that knocked the wind out of him.

“You’re tipsy,” he says, but he’s already running his hands down your sides, already letting his forehead rest against yours. His voice is lower now, rougher. “I should stop. I should let you go home. We should both pretend we’re better than this.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that,” you whisper, fingers moving to undo the strings of his scrub pants. “Neither do I.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, shutting his eyes. “Okay. Okay, come here—”

Then it’s urgent again.

You clamber into his lap awkwardly, straddling him in the front seat–not even caring if someone passes by and sees you — knees pressing into the leather as he yanks your scrub top over your head, tank top following. His hands are trembling, but his mouth never stops. He kisses your throat, your collarbone, then lower, teeth grazing over your bra as you grind down onto the hard length of him through both your clothes.

He groans, openly now, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “You’ve been driving me insane for a year. Every damn day — those eyes, the way you walk past me like you don’t know what you do.”

“I don’t,” you whisper, breathless, head falling back as he licks a slow, wet stripe up your neck. “I didn’t know if you even noticed me like that.”

He actually growls. “I noticed everything.”

You can feel his cock pressing up through his pants, straining against the fabric of the scrubs. Your hips rock down instinctively, grinding into it, and Robby’s head thuds against the seat’s headrest with a long, shuddering moan.

“I used to jerk off in the shower after shift,” he admits, voice cracked and low. “Thinking about you. After rounds. After codes. Anytime you touched me accidentally.”

You whimper, dizzy from his words, from the weight of him beneath you.

“Say it again,” you breathe, tone almost begging.

“I touched myself thinking about you.” His hands slip beneath your waistband, fingers brushing the damp cotton of your underwear. “Is it alright like this?”

You nod frantically, your whole body arching into his hand.

He kisses you again — slower now, like he’s savoring it. The air inside the car grows humid, fogged up with your breath and his heat. When he finally pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers slip through your slick folds with a quiet, obscene sound.

“Christ,” he breathes, staring down between your bodies. “You’re soaked.”

“You did that,” you murmur, voice trembling as he starts to circle your clit with maddening slowness. “You’ve been doing that for months.” His eyes lift to meet yours — wide, dark, almost reverent.

“Let me take care of you,” he says hoarsely. “Just this once. Let me make you feel good.”

Your heart stutters.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Please.”

Robby kisses you like he’s trying to say thank you without words. Then he dips his fingers lower and pushes one inside you, slow and deliberate. You gasp at the stretch, your hips bucking forward instinctively, and he groans under you like it’s him getting fucked.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “God, you’re so tight. So warm around me.”

He adds a second finger and starts thrusting them, gently curling inside you, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit with practiced, devastating precision. You whimper, trying to ride the rhythm, but it’s too much — too intense, too intimate. The air between you is wet heat and shaking breath, and Robby’s eyes never leave your face.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “That’s it. Doing so good.” He praises you while his fingers gently do you, pushing against your walls in all the right places. Like he knows your body alright, like it’s a treasure he’s discovering.

You fall apart faster than you expect, way too soon for your own taste. Your orgasm crashes through you with a sob, your whole body trembling as you clutch at his shirt and cry out into his shoulder. Robby holds you the whole way through it, murmuring nonsense and praise into your hair when you clench on his fingers.

“There you go. That’s my girl. Been thinking about this for so long. You feel so fucking good.”

You collapse against him, panting, dazed. Your thigh brushes the hard length of him again, and you feel him twitch. “You’re still hard,” you murmur, eyes fluttering open. He chuckles, but there’s strain under it. “Yeah. You didn’t exactly help.”

“Do you have…?” You trail off, cocking an eyebrow. Robby nods, fishing in his wallet. “Yeah. Always.”

He pauses, the condom packet in his hand. “You sure?”

You answer by pushing his scrubs pants down his hips and pulling him out.

He hisses, throwing his head back as you stroke him — long, slow pulls of your hand along the heavy length of him, hand brushing on the hair of his pubic area. He’s hot and leaking pre-cum, flushed dark and twitching under your fingers.

“Please,” you whisper. “I want you inside me.”

Robby moves like a man possessed.

He tears the condom open with shaking hands, rolls it on quickly, and you lift your hips, guiding him to your entrance. The head of his cock presses against you — so big it almost hurts — and then he’s sliding in, inch by agonizing inch.

“Oh my God,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders.

His hands grip your waist like a lifeline. “Shh, I got you. I got you, baby.”

It takes a minute to adjust; he’s thick, and the angle in the car is awkward, your knees are pushed inside the leather of your car seat and it almost burns already — but the heat and stretch of him inside you is perfect. When you finally start to move, rolling your hips in slow, desperate circles, Robby lets out a sound so guttural it doesn’t sound human.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he pants. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“Faster,” you whisper, “Please, I need—”

He thrusts up into you hard, and the moan that rips out of you echoes off the fogged windows. The rhythm builds; slow at first, deliberate, his cock dragging along every nerve inside you. Then harder. Deeper. His hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your back, like he can’t believe you’re real.

“You feel so good,” he mutters, half delirious. “Been thinking about this for months. Fucking you. Making you mine.”

“You have me,” you whimper, bracing yourself on his chest as you ride him harder. “You’ve always had me.” Your hands move to wrap around his nape, eyes lowering between your bodies to look at his cock disappearing inside you.

Something snaps in him at that.

He grabs your ass, fucking up into you with punishing thrusts, cock hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over until you’re seeing stars. You’re close again — dangerously close — and he knows it. His thumb finds your clit again, pressing tight little circles as he murmurs filth and praise in your ear and that makes you dizzy.

“That’s it, baby. Come on. Come for me again. Let me feel you.” Robby praises and praises again, until he feels you clenching around his cock.

Your orgasm hits so hard it folds you in half.

You cry out, legs shaking, body spasming around him as pleasure wracks through you. Mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, unable to speak for a second. He groans, thrusting up once, twice more, then comes with a growl of your name — hips jerking, cock pulsing deep inside the condom.

For a long moment, the only sound is your combined gasping. Sweat, breath, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You can feel your heart inside your pussy.

You collapse forward into his chest. He wraps his arms around you like it’s instinct. Like that’s where you actually belong. Neither of you says anything right away. When you finally lift your head, his hair is sweat-damp against his temple. His cheeks are flushed. He looks dazed. Human. Beautiful.

“You okay?” you whisper.

He smiles, slow and lopsided. “That was…”

“Yeah,” you say, snorting softly. “That was.”

You shift, wincing a little as he slips out of you. Robby helps you clean up — fumbling for napkins in your glovebox, still breathless, a hand still on your hips to make sure you won’t disappear. You won’t. You both start laughing halfway through before you move onto the driver seat to give both of you some space.

Then silence settles again. The kind of silence that feels like more than just post-orgasm calm.

You glance over. Robby’s watching you with that same unreadable intensity from earlier — like he’s not sure if he fucked everything up or fixed something that was broken.

“I’m not gonna regret this,” you say quietly. “Not even a little.”

He exhales, almost in relief. “Me neither.”

You pull your scrub top back on, shifting in the now-cooled air. He zips up, pulls his pants up and leans back in the seat, arm draped behind your headrest. For the first time all night, he looks relaxed. Sated.

“You want to do this again sometime?” he asks, tone casual but eyes serious. Behind his eyes is something deeper. More than just sex, and you understand that.

You grin, cheeks flushed, forehead sweaty.

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

#the pitt #the pitt x reader #michael robby robinavitch #fic rec

496 notes · View notes

writingsonsaturn · 27 days ago

Text

home.

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Female!Reader/Slight Original Character (No names or y/n but nickname is angel) Summary: 3 years after the events of Pitt Fest and sedated. a particularly stressful shift has you desperately missing home. Warnings: Angst, mentions of birth, mentions of breastfeeding, brief mention of patient/child death.

“M-Michael?” Tears threatened to spill- you swallowed as his sleepy voice broke through the phone.

“What’s wrong angel?” That tone- the tone in your voice told him something was wrong and he was immediately awake. You were still at work, working on a single patient for the last hour or two and- there was no use. He was only 3.

“I- I know the girls are asleep but- could you just check on them? For me?” Realistically you know they’re never safer than they are now, asleep in their beds with Robby down the hall. But- you needed confirmation. You needed him to tell you they’re fine because you’re thinking of your patient and-

“Of course angel- give me a second okay?” He’s out of bed, putting a shirt on and padding quietly down the hall to your oldest’s room and pushing open the door- quietly, to not wake her. The soft pink glow of her night light dimly lit her room, the sound of the fan, barely above a few decibels but it filled the space with white noise for her. She was safe, warm in her toddler bed with all her stuffed animals at her feet to keep her company while the designated sleeping buddy was in her arms- tonight, like every night, it was the spotted bunny you affectionately named Abbot the rabbit for her uncle and the one who got most of the toys that littered her room, much to Jack’s dismay. Dark waves fanned out over her pillow, unruly like her fathers hair and her other pillow was gently situated at her back, something she’s liked recently as a comfort and it makes Robby smile because you do the same thing oddly enough, if he’s not pressed up against your back then you have a pillow against you to help you sleep. “She’s asleep- Abbot is being strangled in her arms as we speak.” You hear the amusement in his voice- it makes you smile a bit through the tears.

“Yeah?” You picture her- sleeping without a care in the world, no horrors to creep into her life. “A-and the baby?” Robby had shut the door- already walking next door to the nursery where your youngest was. Of course she wasn’t asleep. She was a night owl like you, babbling to herself and gumming at her hand but oh- she smiles and giggles when she sees her dad. Happily flapping her arms for Robby to pick her up and you can hear her- melting your heart a bit and you struggle for a breath because this is the only sound that you want to hear from her. Happiness and love and the way Robby coos at her and he’s picked her up and-

“Our little nocturnal one is awake,” he places the phone back on his ear, whispering still so your oldest doesn’t think there’s a party going on without her. But- the baby will sleep in Robby’s arms now, spoiled with how he refuses to put her down sometimes and almost immediately her eyes get droopy in her dad’s strong arms. “What’s wrong my love?” He asks, sitting in the nursing chair cornered away in her room. This isn’t the first time you’ve called and asked about the girls- after your oldest was born and you had gone back to work, you’d call almost every night for an update on her when you had a moment between patients. But this was different. Your voice was different- Robby knew you had a lot on your mind and sometimes even after all these years it still takes a bit of coaxing to get the words out from you.

“I can’t- I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you couldn’t. You need to hang onto this moment, where you know your babies are safe and nothing has happened to them and nothing will ever happen. Robby understands- he’s had days where he just needs the comfort, can’t find the words yet but your arms were a solace until he could speak about it. He knows the horrors of the world. Knows that life was cruel and now with you and your daughters, he struggles to cope with the idea that some day they’ll be hurt too. “Just- can you do me one more favor Michael?” You whisper, trying to not cry anymore and-

“Anything.” He doesn’t hesitate- Robby would lay down his life for you if you asked. The baby is asleep now, drifted off and making that little sucking motion with her mouth like she does when she doesn’t have her pacifier. Robby gently traces his finger over her face, baby soft skin and wisps of dark curls finally starting to appear on her bald head- thank god. You had joked, slightly worried, that she would be bald her entire life.

“I’ll be home soon- wait up for me? Please?” Of course he will. One of his favorite moments is when you come home and smile at him as soon as you step through the door. “Thank you, I love you.” You tell him, hearing his reply of him loving you more and smiling through the few tears that have fallen. The city was loud, always fucking loud especially in the middle of the night as you walked out the hospital and into the crisp air to get back home to your family. You couldn’t think about work anymore- you had to leave the hospital at the hospital, because if you brought the stress home with you then the girls will pick up on the stress and- they need to know happiness only. They need to only know a world where you and Robby love them and their uncle loves them and they have a hospital full of family back in Pittsburgh that love them and- the world is good to them right now. Where little girls haven't gotten hurt yet. The chill sets in by the time you reach the house, unlocking the door and shivering but sighing into the warmth once you’ve passed the threshold. Robby was waiting- standing in the kitchen with your youngest in his arms, warm tea ready for you to sip on and heat your body. You could kiss him- you did obviously because Robby just does things because he knows you need them, it makes you feel like you don’t deserve him- like you still didn’t deserve him. You almost moan when you take a sip, sighing into the warmth- not just of the tea and your home but the way Robby shows his love for you, how you still feel warm and soft inside when he does things for you just because.

“Let me take a shower, then we can go to bed?” Your body was exhausted- mind still reeling from the shift you had- and you needed to shower before you touch Robby or the baby, but you still placed a kiss to her mostly bald head and one gently on his lips. Stripping yourself of your scrubs on the way to your bathroom, bundling up your clothes to throw into the hamper so you can turn on the shower and- he started a bath for you. It was there, tub filled with steaming water and bubbles and your favorite candle lit in the corner. Dammit you loved that man. He comes to stand in the door- baby starting to stir in his arms because she’s hungry and your chest is sore but you’re so tired and-

“Relax love- I’m already heating her up some milk, but if you want to pump or nurse?” The heat from the bath will soothe the ache in your chest, maybe you’ll pump after but for now you just want to melt into the water and let the day drain from your body. You shake your head- asking him to feed her while you bathe and he nods, another soft kiss but this time on your cheek. You’re not even sure how long you spent in the water but it’s starting to get cold and you maybe dozed off a few times from the sheer warmth and relaxation you felt. Groaning, you lift yourself up from the tub and drain the water and- he left clothes for you. That ratty Saint’s shirt from his residency days and his sweats. He knows you so well. Robby knows you better than yourself because when you’re having these thoughts and moments- nothing but him can bring you comfort. Like wearing his clothes to feel completely enveloped in him- to be able to smell him on you when you close your eyes and feel safe. Even if he’s in bed with you- there are moments you just want to crawl into his skin and nestle your way deep in his heart where you know you’d be safest. But for now this will suffice.

“Better?” He asks, sitting on the couch with the baby wrapped up in her blanket and angrily sucking on her pacifier because she got a bottle and not you- she still ate though. Was full and sated and her chubby hand was clutching Robby’s shirt until she saw you- practically pushing Robby away in an attempt to be in your arms like she’s not at the mercy of whoever is carrying her.

“Much- thank you.” You kiss him again, leaning over to grab the baby from him before she starts to cry and Robby pouts just a bit because she chose you. Your toddler is more the daddy’s girl, the baby probably just loves that the portable milk machine gives her kisses. But you love your girls- you see Robby in them. You see Robby’s frustration on the baby’s face when she gets a bottle instead of you or when Robby attempts to get her to crawl to him instead of just picking her up. You see Robby’s crooked smile in your oldest when she sees her uncle Jack and she throws herself at him or when Robby gives her a bite of ice cream that you definitely did not agree to. Robby’s soft waves of dark hair sprouting from their heads. ‘God I hope they don’t get my nose’ Robby would joke but- you love it, you hope they look exactly like him when they’re older. But Robby hopes they look like you. Like all the wonderful things you see in the girls from Robby- Robby sees your traits as well. The way your nose scrunches up when you’re mad, exactly the same on your oldest when you told her no to the ice cream and exactly the same on the baby when the pureed mush you give her isn’t to her liking. The way your eyes light up when you’re excited, exactly the way your oldest’s eyes light up when she sees her favorite uncle and exactly the same way the baby’s eyes light up when you and Robby come into the nursery to wake her up in the morning. They do have your eyes, color and shape and long thick lashes and Robby knows he won’t be able to tell them no- like he finds it impossible to tell you no.

Robby opened his arm up for you to lay in, you and the baby cuddling up into his side because you both fit perfectly into his arms. Well- almost perfectly.

“We’re missing one.” You mumble, stroking your finger along the baby’s cheek and-

“She’s asleep-” he knows what you want. Can’t ever say no to you. But it’s barely midnight and you want both your babies with you- just a small pout of your lips and Robby sighs while getting up like he wasn’t already thinking about doing it. “I’ll be right back.” He smiles still, walking over to your oldest’s room and kneeling down to rub her back so she doesn’t get scared when he picks her up. ‘Hi dada’ she mumbles sleepily and wraps her arms as best as she can around his shoulders- but not before ‘Abbot’ as she points back to the stuffed animal. Yes, how could Robby forget the damned thing she loves almost more than him. Instantly she’s asleep again- dozing back off in Robby’s arms by the time he makes it back to the couch with you and the baby. He settles back into the corner of your sectional, gently moving your toddler to his right side so you can cuddle back into his left but when she adjusts her position to be more comfortable, your toddler wakes for another moment and smiles at you with Robby’s crooked smile and ‘hi mama’ before settling into Robby’s lap- resting herself on him while you attempt to brush her hair from her face. This was right. This was where you wanted to be every single day.

‘Sleepovers’ you would call them. When you and Robby would bring the girl into bed with you late at night because you missed them and would just watch them sleep between you both. Or you’d settle into the couch with them, like you are now, to watch a movie because you don’t know how long you’ll have these kinds of moments with them. ‘What do you wanna watch?’ Robby whispers to your toddler who’s toying with the ears of her bunny. Same thing she always wants to watch, Winnie the Pooh- which Robby understands in her toddler speak and replies ‘of course you do, how foolish of me to ask’ putting her movie on which has her engaged now. Shifting again in Robby’s lap so she can watch- pointing happily when ‘Abbot’ comes on and holds her stuffed animal up for emphasis. You’ll have to go back to Pittsburgh soon for a visit, Jack has been asking and you’re overdue for a trip anyway. Maybe you can work up the courage to see Frank, if he’d let you.

It hurt. You haven’t spoken to him in at least three years. He hasn’t met your girls. His boys didn’t know your kids. You had spent years with Langdon, asking if you both had kids- would they be friends? Would they love each other as much as you loved Frank? You spent nights crying over it sometimes. You and Robby had moved to New York by the time he came back from rehab, you didn’t visit him during. But- he knew you and Robby got married. He knew you had your girls because you called Abby on Tanner’s birthday this year and- Frank knew. Maybe it hurt him that Robby fully took his place now or that you planned parts of your life without him in it. But it hurt that after 12 years, your best friend and effective soulmate didn’t care for you anymore. It was your fault really- he reached out to you, many times. But- the words he said and the way he spoke them, they weren’t things you could look away from so easily. They hurt you. And Frank promised he’d never hurt you- he swore he’d never break your heart. He was the longest relationship you ever had with someone- and he hurt you. It wasn’t like you breaking up with Robby- no you had got over those, not easily but you did. But Frank? Just the one time was enough to shatter your soul and break your heart. You laid on the bathroom floor for days after, crying and trying to call him. Eventually he blocked you. You deserved it. You didn’t waste this many tears on Robby. Even if you loved him more than life itself- he wasn’t Frank. He needed space. After 12 years- you guess Langdon finally needed space from you.

You still call his mom, just to say ‘hi’ because she wanted updates about the girls and she loved you like her own daughter- she’d mention how Frank was doing. You texted Abby, asking about the boys and she’d ask about the girls- she’d mention that he missed you. You’d call Dana at least once a month- she’d tell you he’s doing good. You’d text Heather, swapping baby pictures- she’d tell you he’s not the same without you. You’d text Samira and hound her about wedding details- she’d tell you that Frank is doing okay but distracted. You FaceTimed Jack last week when your toddler was missing her uncle which you were missing him too- and he told you how Frank asked about you the other day. And Robby got a text today, a lone text from a name and number he hasn’t seen in a few years.

[Langdon]: How is she?

Robby knew who he was asking about. He knew that you both came first in each other's lives for so long that you couldn’t comprehend making room for someone else- once upon a time ago at least. And Robby was angry for you. Robby spent a week laying on the fucking bathroom floor with you, holding you and trying to get you to at least lay in bed with him but you’d scream every time he’d attempt to pick you up. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore- it broke his heart to see you like this. He picked you up, kicking and screaming and fighting him and you were so mentally exhausted that you sank into the bed, crying over another man while Robby held you and kissed your tears away. But this wasn’t his fight. He couldn’t be mad at Frank for the way he coped with his own struggles, he was disappointed but Frank got himself help and- it was in the past now. He’d let you take the lead, Robby would defer to you as to how he can proceed with Langdon. Because all he replied was-

[Robby]: She misses you.

[Robby]: Call her.

Frank sat on the roof, staring at his phone- at your contact and willing himself to call you. He watched the sun start to set like you both did together years ago- laughing about the day while sharing the only water you’ve had all shift or just resting your heads on each other, leaning on each other like you have done for years. He cried. He missed you. He missed you so fucking much and feels like a part of himself has been missing for three years because not even seeing you everyday used to be like torture. A year ago, one night after Abby had fallen asleep he went through her phone, just to see if you’ve sent her anything recent about your daughter and- there was a selfie, you were pregnant again and your oldest was not even a year old but she looked so much like you- he cried. Curled up in bed and cried because his best friend moved on from him. You got married and had kids and- Frank should’ve fucking been right there next to you, like you were for him. He should’ve held your hand when you were scared to give birth the first time- because you did cry, you cried through the pain to Robby that you wanted Frank there. He should’ve held your hand and been there to pass you off when you got married to Robby- because that morning you sat and stared at yourself in the mirror because you ruined your makeup crying and wondered if it was too late to call Frank to be there with you.

After a few hours- you were tired, drained but now in a good way because you had laid on the couch with your girls and Robby finally had to tell you that you needed rest but not before you put your babies to sleep together. Following him into the nursery first, your youngest passed out and her chubby cheeks were smushed from how she slumped herself in your arms. Carefully- after Robby kissed her forehead, you placed her in her crib, brushing a finger down her nose- definitely her dad’s- and turned down the light. One down, one to go. Your toddler was still partially awake, gripping her bunny by the ear when Robby knelt down to put her back to bed and kissed her cheek before you did the same- brushing her wild hair from her face and reminding yourself to maybe start braiding it back before bed. But her eyes got droopy when you pushed her hair back, the same way Robby’s get when you play with his hair. You could relax now- you could breathe knowing that your children were safe and loved and warm in their beds- that if they needed you, you’d be in their rooms immediately. You crawled into bed, Robby doing the same on his side and you gravitated towards each other- your cheek to his chest and his chin resting right on your head, like so many times before and this was where you were both meant to be. Robby doesn’t want to break your peace, he doesn’t want to open an old wound but he wanted you mentally prepared in case-

“Frank texted me today,” He whispered into the darkness, tightening his arms around you when he felt the shift in your body. Oh. Well- you hoped he was doing okay and- “he asked how you were.” That’s all he asked. That’s all he said. He was missing you. He wanted his foot in the door in case you were ready to receive him but you never locked the door. You never shut it on him. It was wide open but you couldn’t step through first- no Frank needed to be the one to reach out. Maybe that was selfish of you but after 3 years you’ve forced yourself in pushing down those feelings of anger, that pain and grief and pushed that energy in raising your girls and being Robby’s wife. But- those things came easy to you. You had to fight every day to not call Langdon- because you didn’t want to know if you were still blocked. And you hadn’t allowed yourself to cry over him in so long, you were busy with your fellowship, with the girls- but you still thought about him. You still felt the absence in your heart left by Frank. You still felt the ache in your chest and the bit of your soul that was gone. Robby knew what was coming. He braced himself for the way your body shook- tiny gasps leaving your chest because the tears finally started to flow. Fuck. Fuck. You buried your face in Robby’s neck. You thought of Langdon and your patient and-

“I’m sorry-” whimpering into his skin, clinging onto him because he was always solid under you- always a rock that kept you up when you needed him. You didn’t have to ask- Robby knew. Robby was able to help you keep above the water, help you stop drowning with whispers of love and understanding a tight hold around you. “Don’t- I’m here. Okay my love? I’m here.” He didn’t want you to apologize. He didn’t want you to feel like it was wrong to need him. So many years you forced yourself to not want Robby- to either shove your feelings down or to go to Frank when Robby was shoving his own emotions down as well. But- Robby was here now. Robby is the love of your life. Robby loved you and would spend however long you needed with him so you could learn to breathe again on your own. He’s making up for all the mistakes he’s made with you. The times he couldn’t be there and for the tears- the hurt he put you through. Robby will gladly, with a fucking smile even- let you cry for Frank again, because you’re his wife now. You’re his wife and the only thing he’s truly let himself be free around and- you deserve relief. You deserve happiness and he swore- took a fucking vow, that he’d do anything to make you happy for the rest of his damned life. He’ll hold you tight in his arms, let you cry, wipe your tears, kiss your worries away. And when you’re done crying- he still won’t let go, he’ll whisper his love for you and ask if you want to go back home for a bit. Because your home right now may be in New York where you live, may be at Bellevue where you work, may be Robby where you love. But it used to be Frank, where you learned and grew.

#the pitt #dr robby x reader #fic rec

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writingsonsaturn · 28 days ago

Text

“you could stab him in the chest and Robby would slide himself deeper into the knife just so he could be closer to you”

IM CLAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD

sedated.

Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Female!Reader/Slight Original Female Character(no names used but they call her Angel as nickname) Summary: Being the cause of Langdon’s demise. As guilt eats away at you- you turn to the only person who understands your pain in this moment. Robby. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, slight passive suicidal thoughts, mild dubious consent, age gap relationship(older man/younger woman), drug mentions. Crossposted to AO3

“To uphold your dignity”

Lies. I did not listen, I judged him. I was judged. I was not empathetic nor kind to him. I silenced his pained voice and spat on the choice he made. I could not cure him, I was not capable, I could not comfort him as he had done for me many times over.

“To offer my best self”

I am not worthy of this profession. I mishandled the privilege I had to care for him. I did not embrace my imperfections, I hid them deep in my soul because they were failures that shame me. I was not vulnerable with him, I did not give him a safe space to heal; I slammed the door in his face and threw the key. I was not courageous, I did not want to risk failing. I admitted my errors and asked for forgiveness- and I do not condemn him for denying me.

“To foster collaboration and mutuality”

I left my team hanging, they could not care for him because of me. I laughed at the experiences he lived, I did not care for his decisions nor tried to maintain a partnership. I did not ask for help because I did not think there were boundaries on my abilities and I did not offer help when he had reached his limitations. I cultivated a culture of resilience against understanding and only worked to support my own professional gain, no regard for others or him.

“To practice the highest quality of care”

I stopped trying to learn; medicine was a tool, I have lost the love for the art and science. I advanced knowledge for my own benefit, I was not honest nor cared enough to change. I only celebrated myself, those who came before me no longer mattered for my success.

“To care for all”

I did not embrace my citizenship to humanity, I shirked any obligations to act in the benefit of all human beings, especially his. I did not challenge my biases, I shamed him, told him he did not deserve the care that was inclusive to all aspects of identity. I did not combat structural oppression, I promoted my own justice and my own ethical action, not those of society or wellness. I leveraged my position and privilege for myself, did not care about the system that failed him, because I was the system that failed him.

“Today”

I did not stand with my peers in solidarity, I was not united, I was self serving, unkind, someone I did not recognize. I shunned where we came from, there is no future for us anymore. I have no gratitude for those who supported me, for they were wrong. I sullied this oath, defiled my honor and his. I am not a doctor who heals; I am wicked and damned. I am to be held accountable.

I prescribed Langdon the pills first.

He never said no. Langdon would come at every beck and call to him from someone he loved, someone who needed him. Even after he moved out of your shared apartment and into his space with Abby, he would still answer your calls at 3 in the morning on the first ring because “what if you needed him?” No questions asked, whenever, whatever is how his soul would operate with yours. Which is also how he got roped into his parents aid this weekend. Helping them move out of his childhood home by toiling over the boxes that were stacked near as tall as he was. Each box housed every award, trophy, and ribbon that he ever accumulated, every drawing he scribbled and every memory of a happy childhood that his parents could cherish.

Now he wasn’t exactly an old man, barely inching his way into his 30’s, but Langdon killed his body with every 60 hour plus work week, combined with being a father to both a 3 year old and a 16 month old, he was exhausted and sore constantly. This particular week while shuffling around the routine group of elderly nursing home patients in the morning, he didn’t lift with his legs like he should’ve. Ibuprofen, his usual aid of choice, hadn’t done the trick that day or the past few weeks, even begging you to massage his back for a second in the Pitt break room with the perfect ER Ken doll pout. But the whole weekend moving boxes to and from his old home and parents' new apartment, a sharp spasm had erupted from the heel of his right foot and trailed up to his lower back- pulling tight at the muscles that were still sore, making the box slip from his arms and land with a crash. The gasp that left him had even surprised his mother, who attempted to get him to sit down, but there were only a few more boxes left and he wanted to go home to sleep it off until work the next morning. So he powered through. And did not get to go to sleep as soon as he got home, no Tanner wanted to play, wanted to be thrown up in the air and caught and run around in the backyard, who was Langdon to deny his son the pleasure of bonding with his father?

The box he dropped held his NYU Biology bachelor’s degree, cracking the frame and the glass spidering along the edge- an omen he paid no mind to at the time.

“You’ve been hobbling around like an old man all fucking morning, sit down Frankie.” Langdon, for all his glory as an ER doctor, was a giant man child. Stereotypical man-flu haver. Or when you would say you’re not feeling good, an hour later neither is he even though you have period cramps. But those damn electrifying blue eyes of his have anyone struck, babying him like he wants even though the drama queen in him is saying “no- no I’m fine please.” Even now, he’s swatting your hand away as you grab his bicep to make him sit down for a second.

“I’m fine, just tweaked my back this weekend.”

“If you’re gonna brag about sex I’m not giving you sympathy.” You say with a roll of your eyes and start to walk away while he follows you, still sitting in the rolling chair but using his long legs to catch up to you and grabbing you by the edges of “your” hoodie. It wasn’t yours, two sizes too big, years of wear and tear from near daily use, a hint of musky cologne that never seemed to fade no matter how much you washed it.

“Don’t tell me you and him are on the rocks again.” Groaning and pulling you to sit in the empty chair next to his, only to take the can of Red Bull from your hand to steal a sip.

“Okay, I no longer have sympathy for you. I hope you hurt more and stub your toe on the gurney.” Standing, grabbing the Red Bull back from his hand and chugging the rest of its contents. Langdon lived to tease you, and the fact that you slept with your attending the day before your internship at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital had him relentless.

“No, no. Wait. Ok, sorry, sorry. I forgot- touchy subject” Groaning again but this time from pain, Langdon stood to catch up to you, shuffling a bit as to not exert too much energy. “I was helping my parents move this weekend and I lifted wrong, back was acting up from when I had to wrestle Ms. Hall into bed Thursday. And I was already still hurting from when Tanner and I were on the trampoline.”

“Yeah she does have the energy of a spry 70 year old instead of 90. And that was also your fault for attempting to backflip. Have you been taking anything?” You inquire, stopping to lean against the computer as he caught up to you.

“No,” shaking his head frustrated, “I feel like I pop ibuprofen like candy, it’s done nothing.”

“Fine, here, to stop your whining and since you have been in pain for a good while already-“ you turn to face the computer, typing a bit while he leaned over you to rest his dimpled chin on your shoulder. “I’ll send a script for 5 mg of Oxy to the pharmacy, don’t get addicted” you laughed with him then, but it had been a prophecy, not a joke.

You gave your best friend the map for his destruction and you both laughed at the time. You assisted him in his suffering, and aided him in his own ruination. How could you not blame yourself? How could you not cry and toil for all eternity over the guilt? How do you go on with the knowledge that you sabotaged his entire life and career when all he did was trust and love you when no one else could? You can never look him in the eyes again. You can never call yourself the godmother to his children again, because you were also made to protect them and you were abetting in damning their future in tandem with their father’s. You can never smile with his wife again because now all she sees in you is the pain and suffering you caused her husband, her children, herself, bound blood still fresh on your hands.

The day was long, it was tiring, it was brutal. You leaned against the hospital, taking a moment to breathe the crisp night air- feel the slight breeze on your skin after being stuck in the stuffy ER from the massive trauma. You could be proud of yourself- could pat yourself on the back because you did more than what you could today. Running back and forth between patients, literally shoving your hand in a man’s chest to stop the bleeding- which had you in the OR for a few hours, watching the fruit of your labor take place. After scrubbing out you felt good- felt like you could work another few hours. But you wanted to catch up to Robby, see how he was holding up from the day's events. You can see him and Abbott walking towards the benches where some members of the “Pitt Crew” told you to join them for a drink- a well deserved one no doubt but your phone was vibrating.

“Hey- where’d you go? Was gonna to see if you wanted to get a dri-“

“Did you tell him?” Cutting you off- speech struggling and slurred. Confusing pulled at your face, brows furrowed because he didn’t sound okay. Langdon sounded very drunk and very angry. He never got angry really- at least not at you.

“Tell who what? Frank where are you?” He had disappeared and reappeared amid the chaos of the Pitt, only to disappear again.

“Don’t fucking lie to me- we promised we’d never lie right?” He slurred again- quickly you try to find his location on your phone, only to realize he had blocked you from seeing him.

“You sabotaged me-“ he sobbed, “you fucking had to take me out. I was in pain- I needed them, you knew that!” What was he doing? You want to call Abby, but you’re afraid if you got him off the phone you’d lose him and something worse would happen.

“Frankie- what are you talking about? Are you ok? Just tell me where you are an-“ you’re trying to understand his slurred words, he’s mumbling and yelling bitterly- blaming you for his own actions and you’re trying to follow.

“The Oxy angel! You gave me the fucking Oxy- remember?” His anger bubbled up, “you knew I was in pain and you watched me pop the pills you gave me. I got fired. Happy now? Couldn’t be me so you had to take me down with you.” You couldn’t say anything else- he had already hung up. Your hand was shaking- trying to call him back but your efforts were in vain as it kept going to voicemail. Each call was denied. You couldn’t breathe- your chest tightened, neck felt like someone was squeezing you. No. No- he couldn’t. Langdon wasn’t- was he? The air was gone from your lungs, spinning, you couldn’t stop the spinning and noise in your head. Was this your fault? Did you subconsciously try to do this to your best friend? You needed air even though you were already outside- you needed to get away, run from your thoughts but you couldn’t go home, no- because home was once Langdon’s and whispered his name everywhere you stepped.

With slow, shaky steps you make your way to the roof, throwing the door open and dropping your bag, not caring where it landed really. You cling to the railing, tears hot and angry- when did you start crying? You needed more air, needed to feel like you were flying because gravity was so heavy right now, crushing you and pulling you down like you were being dragged to hell for your sins already. Unsure and wobbly, you throw a leg over the rail, straddling for a second because the wind is picking up but- maybe it felt good to fall from grace? Finally fall from the title of ‘angel’ that you were bestowed upon so many years ago by Langdon. Throwing your other leg around, you’re walking closer to the edge, looking down at the hospital and- it would feel nice for a moment right? The free fall? The wind rushing in your face and through your hair? Was Langdon right? Did you do this on purpose? When did you begin to feel jealous- if you ever did? Slowly you step back and start to pace- thinking about every single moment of the last year. How much did you even give him? When? Not remembering was the worst part because you didn’t care to take notice of your best friend spiraling. Your thoughts were so loud and the wind was roaring in your ears you didn’t hear the door open again or Robby initially calling out to you.

“Angel,” Robby paused, watching you walk back and forth along the edge of the roof, wringing your hands and muttering to yourself, “hey- angel what’s wrong?” His voice was soft, gently probing so he doesn’t startle you- but you paid him no mind. After his drink with a few of the ED members, he inquired if you had gone home already- hoping to catch up to you and see how you handled the day, but someone mentioned seeing you head to the roof and Robby’s gut told him to check on you. You were pacing along the edge, pulling at your fingers and wringing your hands together because you can’t remember how much you prescribed Langdon. You can’t remember when you even offered and now you have this tightness in your chest. You’re trying to recount the last few weeks- how was he acting? How was his disposition? In all the years you’ve known Frank he was acting the same but, no- no there had to be something, a sign or some indication that he wasn’t okay.

“Fuck!” you yell, stopping in your stride and shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes because you can’t- fucking- remember. Trailing your hands up- sliding your fingers in your hair you pulled just a bit, trying to jog your memory back to any moment when you asked yourself if Langdon was okay.

“Angel- angel stop,” Robby swings himself over the railing- cradling your face to force you to look at him. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He’s asking questions you don’t even have the answers to, you don’t know what happened- where Frank is, if he’s ok. God were you this stupid? Every month there is some type of “substance abuse signs” email that Gloria sends out- doctors are the worst dealers and yet the most common addicts.

“I don’t- I don’t know I-“ you’re shaking your head- either to let Robby know you’re unsure or to shake the relentless thoughts from your mind, “Michael I- it’s my fault, it’s- it’s my fault I- Langdon- it was me-I did it-“ you’re babbling- hyperventilating and unable to catch a break and Robby is confused. What did you do? He’s trying to recall his early arguments with Langdon when you shove out of his grasp to continue pacing. ‘Did angel tell you?’ In the moment, Robby had no idea what you had to do with the situation. But he’s putting pieces together because with your muttered words he hears ‘I gave it to him. I prescribed it- it was only 5 mg- I didn’t think he would-‘ and it dawned on him.

“Hey- hey stop,” Robby grabs you again by your bicep now, forcing you still and to look at him, “tell me what’s happened.” Your lips quiver, tears stained your face and you don’t even know where to start. Relaying every detail- only pausing to catch your breath or cry and you’re ending it with accepting the guilt.

“I did it. I did it. It was me Robby- it was me!” You ended your recollection of events, you gave your best friend Oxy. You handed him the keys to his demise. God you were that fucking stupid. “He came to me for help and I-“

“No- no angel that wasn’t you. Stop,” he’s trying to shake you a bit, getting you to understand and hear him but you’re shoving away at him. Pushing your hands into his solid chest that you used to sleep on- where you would lay awake with him at 2 am and giggle about the day, how a patient got a fish hook stuck in his ass or how Whitaker ate shit sliding in a kid's vomit. Where you would fall asleep to his heartbeat, stroking at the light dusting of chest hair, rolling your eyes at his snoring because ‘I don’t snore angel, I have never snored.’ Where you feel safe- loved- protected from the horrors of the shifts that haunt you.

“No! No- no Robby I did this-“ smacking at his chest you try to shove him away and loosen from his grip but he’s stronger. He’s always been stronger- has to be for you in this moment because you’re breaking. He’s not used to you breaking. You’re not insensitive- no you feel so deeply that you hurt for days after you lose a patient. You won’t cry in the room, won’t cry at the funerals you’ve asked to attend, won’t let a tear slip at the end of the day when Robby asks how you’re doing. No those are reserved for silently curling up in the shower, where the sound of the water drown out your sob, the water mixing with your salty tears.

“Stop it!” He shakes you again, “Langdon made his own choices- you didn’t shove the pills down his throat-“ you slap him- hard. The sharp sound bounces off the roof and echoes out into the darkness. You might as well have- you handed it to him. You basically spoon fed them to him. Robby didn’t know what he was talking about- you should’ve been careful, you should have been looking out for Langdon- you should have anticipated and known every single consequence possible. He would mention his pain and you said nothing when you’d see him take a pill or two during his shift- hell you were no stranger to it yourself. But you’re wracking your brain trying to think of all the times you had seen it.

“Get off me-“ you fight- attempting to wrestle yourself free from Robby, slapping his chest, sobbing and want to kick but god- he’s as relentless and stubborn as you were. “No- no-“ you’re crying, telling him no because you don’t deserve compassion, you don’t deserve relief from the guilt. Langdon did. You deserve to be damned and thrown from this roof for your hand in the matter. Robby pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and finally- you break. A strangled, wrecked sob releases from the depths of your soul. Collapsing into Robby you crack- your slaps at his chest become weaker, eventually you fist his scrub top and cling to him. One hand soothes you, stroking your head but the other remains tight around your body- keeping you firm against him so you don’t try to escape. Slowly he sinks to the floor, letting you cry into his chest and use him as an anchor so you don’t drift away from him in your ocean of grief. He doesn’t move really- only to kiss your temple or rub your back, doesn’t adjust himself in any way while you sob into him, doesn’t know how much time has really passed but he’s content to sit and stroke your hair and shush your tears.

“I should go,” you finally say, no silence to break as there’s still the sound of the city, sirens, shouts, music- making it feel alive, “it’s late- you’re tired.” It’s an excuse, you’ve been pathetic in front of Robby for long enough, you don’t want him to think of this moment when he thinks of you- at your worst. But even at your supposed worst, Robby thinks the world of you. Intelligent, witty, sarcastic, funny, gorgeous with bright eyes that melt his heart when you look up at him. He holds you in the highest regard, he regrets every heart break he’s ever made you endure.

“Let me take you home,” he offers, standing and cupping your cheek so you can look at him and know he means what he says, “or stay the night with me. I don’t want you alone angel.”

“No,” you shake your head, forcing yourself to deny him because you deserve to be alone- to sit and wallow in the darkness of your empty apartment and have a shot or two. People died today, people lost their lives, their families, friend- and you’re monopolizing him for nothing at all other than your guilt “No I’m ok Michael I promise-“

“Please, just- I’ll stay in your couch, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Even when he’s not yours, he cares. When you can’t call him yours, he will always be yours. His thumb brushes your cheek- wiping away the tears he can reach, eyes soft and almost begging you to let him take care of you. So you nod, he’s helping you back over the rail and you take his hand in yours and grab your bags before walking down the stairs and back into the comfort of the dark. It’s a silent walk, Robby doesn’t pull his hand away from yours nor do you pull away from his. He’s a lifeline at this point- walking through the park to your apartment and if you close your eyes you can imagine it’s a Sunday afternoon again, and you both are coming back from breakfast hand in hand- enjoying the breeze and you’re about to meet Jake at the basketball court. But it’s not months ago, it’s not a beautiful Sunday, it’s dark. And Robby isn’t yours anymore.

You’re still in a bit of a fog- head pounding from your tears and Robby lets go of your hand briefly to unlock your door. Oh, he still had his key. He takes your bag from your shoulder, hanging it in the entry way with his and slowly, he’s ushering your through the small hall and into your bedroom- sitting you at the edge of your bed. Kneeling before you, he kisses your forehead and begins untying your shoes- minding the blood that was drying- you’d have to throw them in the wash tomorrow. Tapping your arms, Robby lifts the hem of your scrub top, lifting it gently to avoid pulling your hair once it was over your arms. He lightly snapped the strap of your sports bra with a small smile- a silent indication that it was the next article to go. “Up” he nodded, making you stand so he could slide off your pants and underwear- your hand on his broad shoulders to steady yourself as he carefully held your ankles one at a time to free them from the pooled fabric. You’ve obviously been naked in front of him before, many times over. But this was distinctly more intimate than when you’d sleep together. You felt even more naked than before, Robby was looking up at you- raw and tormented- soul on display for him to pick apart and yet he never does. He doesn’t judge you at this moment because he has been there many times- when Adamson passed you had been there, helping Robby shower and eat for days after the fact.

“I’m gonna start the shower ok?” With a kiss to your temple he’s up and in your bathroom, turning the water to the temperature he knows you prefer. ‘Satan’s lair hot’ he would call it when he’d join you for a quick shower- feeling stripped and raw but you relished in the way it soothed your muscles after a long day. Robby returns and takes your hand, guiding you into your bathroom and helping you in the shower. He watches you stand there- letting the water cascade down your face and body, not moving. Sighing, he starts to strip so he can join you.

“Lean your head back baby,” he coaxes you, turning you so the water glides down your back and he can lather your shampoo into your hair. The scent brings him back- wafting around and choking him, remembering how he would wake up with your hair in his face and how he’d be slightly annoyed at the time, but he would kill to have one more chance to be inconvenienced by it again. He’s at your side, massaging your scalp and keeping you upright while coddling you more than you think he should. Robby is gentle- has always been gentle with you unless you ask him not to. Slowly rubbing the rag along your shoulders, across your skin and dipping down to kneel in front of you to get the blood that had soaked into your shoes and dried uncomfortably between your toes. He moves to turn the water off but you grab his arm, ceasing him momentarily because you just- just need a moment to feel like it’s all ok. Understanding, he pulls you into his chest- turning so the spray of the water is mostly on him and just lets himself hold you. He can pretend it’s months ago and you’re sneaking to join him in the shower to before work- hungrily kissing him, pulling him back into your embrace each time he begrudgingly tries to leave, and you both just sit under the stream for a bit in silence before the stress of the hospital starts.

“You need sleep angel- come on” with a kiss to your temple he shuts the water off and wraps you in a towel before he does the same, sitting you on the edge of the tub to dry your hair with the specific towel your bought- the one you’d jokingly get after him about and made sure he didn’t use for his hands. Robby dresses himself quickly, digging through your drawers and finding clothes he hadn’t even realized were missing- a t-shirt from his med school that you would wear to bed only- because it still smelled like him and a pair of boxers that he let you borrow to sleep in the first few weeks of your relationship.

“Which do you want?” He asked, holding out one of your nightdresses and a t-shirt he found. It was Langdon’s, the sole shirt that he had with letters of his frat- before he got kicked out of course. God why did it hurt to see it? You nodded to the dress, grabbing it from Robby’s hands while he dug around for a pair of underwear for you.

“I’m gonna set myself up on the couch ok?” He didn’t ask to sleep in bed with you- stupidly he thought maybe that was pushing his luck because all he wanted was to hold you in his arms to sleep like before. And you didn’t ask him to- you’ve been pathetic enough today around him. Selfish even. Robby lost patients today, it was the anniversary of Adamson’s death and he was here- taking care of you. But if you asked him- this is where he wanted to be. Needed to be. A distraction from his own personal bullshit, because for all the ache, he’s been neglecting his feelings. And focusing on you gives him a purpose to neglect instead of being emotionally constipated like you had told him he was months ago. Adamson is still gone, Leah is still gone. He can’t change that. But you’re here and your problems won’t go away soon- he can be here for you now. “If you need me, wake me up ok?”

“Okay, thank you-“ meekly you say, crawling up your bed and into the sheets to try and forget about your miserable excuse for being hurt. You attempt a fitful sleep, tossing and turning- unable to breathe without the pain in your chest or to stop thinking for a moment- what signs did you miss? Langdon had always been hyper, always been on the go and ready for the next trauma. Cherry picking for a trauma yes, but- so did you. It wouldn’t stop- your mind didn’t stop. Robby was the only one who could quiet your mind- he could give you temporary relief to the world, clearing the fog around your brain. But- you didn’t need relief, no- you needed a distraction. You needed to not think about the pain for only a second- just a moment of distraction because it will always be constant. You won’t have Langdon at work anymore. You won’t be able to play rock paper scissors when you hear of an incoming trauma anymore. You won’t get to shotgun Red Bulls in the parking lot at 5 am with him anymore. You won’t get to share the lunch Abby packed for him- definitely way too much for just him because she knows you don’t cook. Will you even be able to call him your best friend anymore? Will you go to his house on the weekends to play with the kids anymore? Will Abby call you for dinner on Sundays anymore? Fuck- fuck you fucked up. You fucked up. You’re hyperventilating again- tossing the blankets from your body because you feel hot. Maybe the feeling of the hell you belong in has already begun its process- reminding you that you are to blame, that you should be punished for the role you played.

You’re out of bed- pacing along your bedroom floor trying to calm your breathing, trying to stop crying because Robby will hear you. The screech of the flatline is in your ears- rattling your nerves, feeling your heart stopping but simultaneously about to beat right into your stomach and out your ass. You feel the bubbling sensation of nausea creep up. Hands shaking and you just need a fucking distraction from it all. You need Robby in the moment more than you need air to breathe. More than you need the blood in your veins because he’s gladly give himself over to you for a bit of respite.

Robby is no stranger to the feeling of guilt- and he’s had his share of selfish tendencies. Months after Adamson died, Robby would have you in his bed- burying himself deep into your tight core because he needed to feel something more than the failure of his own humanity. You tried to talk- tried to get Robby to open up but the only way he attempted to cope was through physical contact. He closed himself off mentally- shutting the doors to prevent more fucked up feelings from creeping into his mind late at night but you let him use you, you laid back and let Robby cry it your chest with each thrust- kissing his tears away and holding him to your chest when he was sated. He’s awake, lying on your couch that’s slightly too small for him to be comfortable- staring up at the ceiling fan slowly make its rounds. He hears you shuffle from your bedroom- silently padding along the wooden floor, cursing when a creak gives you away. You know he’s awake- he’s not snoring.

“What’s wrong angel?” he’s immediately sitting up but before he can stand you’re throwing yourself on the floor in front of him, sobbing something awful because it’s too much again.

“I can’t- I need-“ you try to speak- try to calm yourself to get the right words out but what do you say? That you’re so consumed with your own guilt that you need a distraction- and that distraction can only come from him burying himself so deep inside you that you’re more him than you? He knows. Robby knows what you’re going to ask because he knows you better than himself sometimes. He was in the same spot as you years ago- knelt in front of you, kissing up your legs with tears in his eyes, begging you to take his mind off the world for a second. You had been a savior to him then- an angel who stripped herself of her wings to join him on this damned floating rock and be used in the most sinful way. But- was it sinful if he felt like you were heaven sent? The answer to a prayer he didn’t know he made? The light at the end of a fucking tunnel to guide him to your arms again?

“Please Michael,” you begged in the dark, kneeled on the carpet in front of him as if he were the patron saint of guilt and desperation, forehead pressed into his thigh while you whimpered and let hot tears drip. You lifted your head from its position, staring up at Robby with a face that was stained wet from tears of grief, eyes petitioning him to have mercy on your aching heart. To take your mind away from its mortal coil, to heal your inner despair with his touch on your body so that you can escape reality for a moment. Straightening yourself and trying to catch your breath, you adjusted to kneel between his open legs, arms wrapping around his torso- shoving your face into his chest and again- begging for distraction, “please, I need you. I can’t do this anymore.”

Robby’s heart was torn, stripped raw from the stress of the day already- but now hearing the suffering from your voice, a feeling that rose deep from your soul. No your heart wasn’t broken, that was a laughable analogy for the pain and guilt you felt, because your soul was shattered. For all intents and purposes, Langdon was your soulmate since you were 18. You love Robby. And you would never admit to anyone, not even yourself, that Robby is the love of your life and the worst thing you could have ever let go of, which you will regret for years to come. But Langdon was the other half of you, your soulmate that was bound and tied to your heart for this lifetime and the ones that were to follow. Your atoms were intertwined together, every fiber of your being was tethered with his. The guilt you felt for hurting him, ruining his life, it destroyed you as well. Now, you didn’t want to live without Robby- but you would and could, you have many times over already. But if you were to attempt to live without Frank Langdon in your life for a mere moment? You would likely cease to exist, forget to breathe, beg for death because after your passing, his soul would find yours again for the next reincarnation of your beings together.

Internally, he couldn’t allow himself to let you use him as a distraction. Not because he was noble or because he thought he deserved better- no, because he had been dreaming to hold you again. Robby laid awake most nights, yearning for your body to be slotted around his, to feel your skin against his and be able to kiss you awake before the sun rose, like he had done so many times before, just so he could make love to you in the quietness of the night- where the sun and moon met like your bodies were, whispering their love in passing while you both did as well. Here you were, knelt between his thighs, begging for him to let you use him as a distraction and he hated every ounce of his being because he would gladly let you use him. He would take a scalpel to his chest and cut out his own heart with a smile if you asked, looking up at him with those eyes that he never quite learned how to say no to. Letting you use him, well he would feel like he was using you. Using your pain and agony tonight as a way to sate himself, weaning himself off his own addiction by a low dose of your body rutting against his.

Robby didn’t say no, he couldn’t tell you no as you unwrapped yourself from his waist and rose up on your knees to rest your head on his shoulder, fisting his shirt in your shaky hand. He was incapable of telling you no as you kissed his neck, softly with trembling lips, god it felt so fucking good to be touched by you like this again. He had chastised himself for looking at you lustfully while he ran the rag across your skin in the shower. He went to bed half hard- cursing himself because you were crying in his arms and a part of his brain was thinking about tasting your skin again- sinking deep into you, wrapping your thighs around his waist and calling it home again.

“Michael,” you whined, “baby, please. Distract me.” Your lips trailed along his neck, the hand that wasn’t balling his shirt along his chest was resting on his thigh to keep you upright, nails digging in ever so slightly. He was a weak, pathetic man. The thin strap of your nightdress had slipped down off your shoulder, the top swell of your breast threatening him, beseeching him to taste. He kept his hands at his side, not daring to let a finger trail across your skin because he wouldn’t be able to stop just there. Rising up again, one knee bracing on the couch to aid you in your assault on his resolve. This time your target was his jaw, lightly nipping at the edge, knowing how his body sings already, your lips and teeth the director.

“I need you,” a kiss on his cheek.

“Please,” a kiss on his forehead.

“I can’t anymore,” a kiss on the side of his nose.

“Michael,” a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Each kiss chiseled away at him, each kiss had Robby teetering on the edge of letting go. What a simple, foolish man he was for a woman who whispered his name so sweetly, that he could never hear it the same again from anyone else. You would peck at his lips, letting him taste the tears that you had shed but he couldn’t kiss you back. He couldn’t forget himself, that you were suffering, yes, but he was not. He was in his right mind- he was levelheaded, right? No- he was not. Robby was suffering as well because the woman he loved was on her knees begging to be put out of her misery- to be fucked and touched- and he was denying her, how fucking selfish he was. He could allow himself one kiss, he could allow himself to aid in your atonement by letting you find comfort in his arms and body. Once more, you begged against his lips.

“Please baby,” forehead against his, breathing the air he released to get just a taste of him with your hands dragging their way up his body to cradle his face in your palms. You loved Robby. You loved and ached for him daily. But this cycle of despair pained you, cycle of giving your entire being to him but he would only knock out a brick or two of the wall around him for you. You knew he could take whatever guilt and ache you had in this moment, dull it, make you forget that you were the root of all evil in Langdon’s new reality.

“Please my love,” you didn’t need your stethoscope to hear the strings of Robby’s heart and tenacity snap. “Help me,” you plead against his lips.

“Okay,” Robby nodded, whispering back into your lips so that maybe your soul could hear that aid was coming, that he was here to fix you, be used by you like you had done for him years ago.

“Okay baby,” he relented, permitting himself to kiss the tears away from your tired eyes, “I have you.” He unshackled his arms from the mental restraints he had, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you up and into him while the other grabbed your thigh to have you straddling him now, body flush against his. Robby could hear you gasp in relief, hiccuping slightly through the tears and nodding because your savior had arrived. Just like he always had. Throwing your arms around his shoulders you kissed him with fervor- slotting your lips together like many times before. They were no strangers, they have met frequently in the last few years and knew the terrain well together. Your fingers wound themselves through the hair that settled along the nape of his neck, always so soft and the one thing that you knew he couldn’t resist.

For all the love you had for each other, this was a different type of love making. This was desperate, sad, needy, hurried- so that you couldn’t think or have time to think about your better judgment. Robby had pulled the other strap of your nightdress down to reveal your breasts to him while he kissed along your jaw, beard scratching perfectly against your skin that you sighed, finally finding respite in a feeling that wasn’t your own sorrow. Down your neck, Robby licked and sucked, lavishing your skin with a groan added, deep and guttural in your ear that you drew out from canting your hips over his. He missed how your skin tasted, how you sounded when he would circle his tongue around your nipple or use his beard to scratch along your chest.

“Fuck-“ you sighed, pushing your chest into his face, silently asking him to torture you with his mouth more so you can finally stop thinking, “thank you baby,” Robby was your true love, your savior, taking your pain in his hands and holding it high above your head so you can forget for just a moment. “Thank you.” You repeated, grabbing the hair at the back of his head and forcing him to look up at you with those sad eyes, deep brown, looking at you like if you asked, he’d walk through hell and back to kiss you one last time before leaving you to the eternal ruin you would face there. The arm around your waist pulled you down, trapping your hips and forcing you to grind into him slowly, but hard and rough so you can feel the outline of him through his boxers and your underwear. Groaning, Robby kissed his way back to your lips, licking into your mouth when a moan escaped, while his other hand palmed at your chest, heavy hands and calloused fingers pinching and scratching lightly at your breast and nipples to hear you whine.

“I’m here,” sighing, letting you cling to him while your body trembled in his arms, “use me.” It was a privilege for him, because in his mind, you allowed Robby to be used- a distraction from the pain that another man caused. He wasn’t ignorant, Robby knew he would always come second to Langdon. Years ago it pained him, to lose the woman he loved to another man- almost angered him because how could Frank even understand how truly blessed he was to be loved by you? Langdon never even had the privilege of tasting you- of dipping his tongue into the sweet salvation that was between your legs, truly an act of compassion for Robby on your part to bless him with such an honor.

“I can’t- fuck, please Michael-” you’re whimpering in his mouth now- desperately grinding into him for some relief- some friction to help you think of something else- anything else because the memories are flooding back and- ‘This is your fucking fault and you know it! Stupid selfish bitch- you sabotaged me for the ED Fellowship didn’t you? What you can’t stand not being Robby’s center of attention- are you jealous he gave me a recommendation?’

Robby felt you bury your face into his neck, crying gently again and whimpering his name- not from pleasure, no- you were clawing at him for solace, biting his neck and pulling at his hair. He couldn’t try to keep it together- you were his debilitating weakness, you could stab him in the chest and Robby would slide himself deeper into the knife just so he could be closer to you. He was losing his control- this was supposed to be about you. Robby’s hand slid its way down your back, dipping into your underwear and after grabbing a handful of your ass, he twisted his hand to ball up the fabric around his wrist once, twice, a final third time when he knew it was taut- and yanked back violently. You heard the tearing of what was your underwear, felt the scratch and pull against your hip but now there’s only Robby’s boxers holding your back from the soothing balm of pleasure.

Desperately you palm at him, feeling the familiarity of his hard length under your hands and you don’t waste a second pulling him free from his boxers and lining yourself up, the tip notched at your entrance- Robby’s pressing his forehead against yours and is nodding, silently begging you to put him out of this misery as well.

“Fuck,” you gasp, sinking down onto him so slow, so gentle in contrast to the anguished need of only moments ago. “fuck, I love you Michael.” Robby desired to hear those words again- prayed that he would hear you tell him in earnest that you loved him and that you wanted to try again with him. But for now he can dream. For now he can imagine it’s months ago and you’re in his arms again, reminding him that you love him- and he’ll distract himself with a kiss from your perfect lips that cry for another man.

You’re crying into the kiss- mumbling that you love him while rising up on your knees to feel him slide thickly between your walls, filling you perfectly with a well acquainted feeling. Repeatedly saying ‘I love you’, grabbing his hand at your hip that’s steadying you to intertwine your fingers with his. The act has Robby gutted, thinking back to how you would do the exact same months and years ago when he’d have you in his bed, finding his hand in the darkness while you sigh and moan his name. But this time, it was for grounding- something to hold onto, the memory of feeling safe in Robby’s arms, loved and cared for.

Robby starts to feel anger bubbling up inside while you squeeze his hand. Robby’s ire wasn’t directed at you, no- never at you. Langdon had let him down, let the entire team down- but more specifically he let you down and blamed you for his failure and shortcomings. He blamed you for his lack of self control, which was ironic considering that while Robby had lost all sense of self control around you- it was on him alone. Langdon took no responsibility in his actions and his ego was his own ruin. Robby could feel the way your heart was destroyed, guilt eating away at you from Langdon’s words. You didn’t know, you didn’t purposefully hurt your best friend. But how could he make you see that? How could Robby pull you back from the edge of the roof and tell you to blame the one constant person in your life who was always there. Frank was there before Robby, he was there all the times Robby wasn’t- every break up and fight, he was there. He couldn’t expect you to abandon a piece of your soul so easily.

“I love you, so much angel-“ Robby sighs into your mouth, his own tears starting to fall as the dust of the stress and mental strain of the day begin to settle, “I’m yours, I’m here baby.” He knew your guilt in this moment, he couldn’t save Adamson, he let his mentor down. He couldn’t save Leah. He let Jake down. In all his glory and years of a healer he felt he had nothing to show for it because when it mattered- he faltered. He heard the incessant beep of the flatline in his ears, felt his heart racing against his chest as you hopelessly move in his lap with a relieved sigh as he exchanged his reassurance with you- that he loved you more than you understand.

Reluctantly he let go of your hand and flattened his arm on your back, tightening the grip his other hand had on your thigh, Robby turns to gently lay you flat on the couch. The hand on your thigh slides up to your knee, wrapping your leg around his waist so he can drive himself deeper inside your tight solace. The angle has you gasping, running your hand up under his shirt so you can drag your nails down his back. His necklace was dangling in your face, the shine from the metal really the only thing you can see in the darkness. Who was really using who at this point was unknown, you and Robby cried together, hearts bloodied and open for each other to mend. His hand came back to find yours, lifting to rest above your head while locking your fingers together. His pace didn’t falter, it was slow and deliberate- feeling each needy, desperate thrust of his hips into your own so that maybe you both could lay aside your combined grief and heal together, if only for tonight. You feel a familiar crescendo in the pit of your gut, a pull that only Robby was able to elicit from you- as if he studied your own body in those dreaded years of med school just in preparation for this moment.

“Close,” you whimpered, grabbing at the hair at the back of his neck and pulling him closer- foreheads together in combined effort and concentration. “S-so close baby.” You didn’t have to warn him, Robby knew, being so in tune with your body already- the signs were obvious to him. The way the pitch of your voice lifted slightly, how your breathing stuttered, the grip on his hair tightening, your thighs squeezing around his waist, the tightness of your walls around him- Robby knew each and every tell of your impending orgasm. He wasn’t far off- forcing himself to slow down so you can forget everything for more than a moment. But that was a slight lie- Robby forced himself to slow his devastating pace so he can stay inside your heat, if only for mere seconds longer because he never knows when the last time will actually be the last time. He makes this mistake routinely- breaking your heart and letting you run from his emotional crudity. His greatest regret is cheating you into coming back to him over and over again , being so fucking selfish that he can never truly let you go. So he will force himself to slow down in this moment- pretending you’re his again.

Your orgasm felt like drowning in Robby- the sound of your heartbeats combined in your head, the smell of his cologne hazing around in your mind, the feel of his fingers digging into your thigh, chill of his necklace on your chest, the squeeze of his hand in yours, the thick fullness of him inside you, his tears falling softly on your cheeks, the sounds of his hips roughly slapping against you, the sweat beading on his forehead that was pressed against your own- his voice wafting around in your chest to suffocate your heart with ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m yours’. You were silent as you came, tears streaming down the side of your face- feeling Robby’s pace stutter for a few more thrusts then groaning, deep and guttural as he followed your peak together. Mixed breathing and small gasps, catching your breath together with one final kiss before he reluctantly attempts to pull out of you.

“No,” you tense your thighs around him faintly, “don’t- not yet. Please.” You still had to feel something- still needed a reason to not spiral in the depths of your own guilt, a reason to stay grounded to now instead of circling the drain with what was left of your sanity. He didn’t think you were able to tug at his heart even more, but looking down at you, bathed in moonlight with tears glistening and begging him to not leave you in any form- what was left of him died and was reborn into something akin to devotion, ready to give up what was left of him to spend eternity worshiping at your feet. So he nodded, kissing the tears away from your cheeks- not realizing they were mixed with his. Slowly you ran your fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly- remembering how much he loved the feeling and would melt into your body. Turning you both gently, Robby laid on his side and immediately you draped yourself over him as much as possible, never fully leaving the comfort of your warmth. Fingers lightly skimming over your skin, no rhythm to follow, just caressing you gently like he would many times over.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, “thank you Michael.” Different than how you said it earlier, you were thanking him for loving you. Thanking him for having mercy on your damned broken soul. Thanking him for coming to your rescue all over and being your home when Langdon could not be.

“Always.” Robby kissed your temple, feeling you settle against him finally, sagging into his body and letting out a shaky sigh. You didn’t know what you would have to face tomorrow, you didn’t want to think about Langdon or Abby or the kids, right now your just wanted to sleep here in Robby’s arms like you have done so many times before. Robby was your safe haven, an asylum that shielded your vulnerable heart as you slept. You knew your thoughts would be quiet with him, his presence alone was the guardian of your wretched mind- a protector that asked for nothing in return, besides your love, which was so easy to give to him- you have many times before, though you’re really not sure you stopped. No- each time you claimed to stop loving him, you only came back so much more stronger with so much more love to proffer. He didn’t take, no- Robby stored the love you gave him, hoarding it deep inside his body to strengthen himself up to knock down the wall he spent years building brick by lonely brick. Each time a little more of himself was available to you- each time the love and devotion was more ardent than the last. Maybe this time it’s secured- this time it’s going to last.

You were his angel, his peace and bliss- light at the end of the fucking tunnel and all that bullshit he spent years looking for and reading about but didn’t quite believe until he met you. He believed it. But- were you truly the angel they said you were? Robby and Langdon? For even the devil was once God’s most precious angel. The fall was so far up from the pedestal they put you on, and at this moment all you felt was the wind rushing against your body. You guess you’ll have to brace yourself for the impact of reality sooner or later.

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby x reader #fic rec

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