i have not changed my url since i started posting stories 😱 but i had this name saved because cur spoke to me from the title alone. soooo this is the new me in this era 🥺 i love it. hope you do too
summary: as a fourth year resident in the Obstetrics department at PTMC, and the wife of jack abbot, calls down to the ER almost always brighten your day. certified wife guy jack abbot loves to see his girl in action.
content warnings: MDNI! graphic descriptions of medical procedures, medical inaccuracies, a lil angst, husband jack abbot banter and fluff with his favorite person, you ;)
word count: 3.3k
authors note: just a little something that popped into my mind rewatching that season 2 case. pretty medical heavy but drop a comment if you enjoyed :)
“Hey, Dr. Abbot,” Medic Nguyen says, pulling out the heavily pregnant woman on the gurney from the back of the rig, “this is Judith Lastrade, 36 weeks pregnant with two days of headache, now a 10 out of 10 with blurred vision. BP 174/120, heart rate 92. No relief with fentanyl.”
“Judith, I'm Dr. Abbot,” Jack says calmly, “any weakness in your arms or legs?”
“No, no. Is this a stroke?” She says, resting her hand on her stomach.
“We need to check for everything,” Jack says, pushing her gurney into the ER with Robby and the medics.
“Where are you doing your prenatal care?” Robby asks.
“Nowhere.” Judith says, firm and defensive. “It's a wild pregnancy. I want a free birth.”
“Uh, ok,” Jack says, exchanging a charged glance with Robby as they push her into trauma two. “Mateo, Nazely, Henderson, with me. Lena, call up to OB, ask for-”
“I know who to ask for,” Lena says, smiling, phone already to her ear.
“CTG is on,” Mateo says, adjusting the strap on Judith's belly.
“CTG?” Judith says, looking up at him.
“Cardiotocography. Measures the baby's heart rate and checks for contractions.” Jack says, crouching forward, reading the stats on the machine, “fetal heart rate 128. Normal range, Nazely?”
“110 to 160,” Nazley says.
“So the baby's OK?” Judith says.
“Right now, yes.” Henderson says, “128 is reassuring,”
“Your next move, Crus?” Jack asks.
“20 of labetalol, IV push over two minutes,” Crus says, pulling the meds from the nearby drawer.
“Uh, what's happening?” Judith asks, the monitors beeping rhythmically in the background.
“You have a condition called preeclampsia,” Nazley offers gently.
“And how did it happen?” Judith says, voice laced with worry.
“Uh, nobody really knows, actually,” Jack says, looking out the glass doors towards the hub, wondering where you are, “it affects about 10% of the pregnancies. High blood pressure, headaches, protein in the urine, and swollen ankles.”
“Ok, well, it's a wild pregnancy, so that means no medical care,” Judith says,
“Then why are you here?” Robby says, no concern in his voice.
“I just need to get rid of this headache,” she says, tears starting to well in her eyes,
“Well, if we don't lower your blood pressure and treat with magnesium, there can be problems.” Abbot says gentler, trying to correct Robby’s harsh tone.
“Like what?” Judith sniffs.
“Seizures, bleeding, even death, for you and the baby,” Crus says.
“Oh, my God,” Judith cries.
“Robby,” Dana says, poking her head in the room, “need you in trauma one,”
“OK,” Robby says, following Dana out of the room, “you good?”
“Yeah, I'm good. I got it. With my eyes closed. But I won't. Maybe one eye.” Jack clicks his tongue as he winks at Judith.
“Jesus, Jack, she’s already pregnant,” you say, a cheeky smile on your face as you push through the back door of the trauma room. His whole face lights up as you walk into the room, your jade green scrubs hugging your hips just the way he likes. He shoves his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to you and squeezing your waist.
“She’s the other Dr. Abbot?” Nazley says under her breath to Crus, “she’s so much younger than him,”
“Yeah,” Crus murmurs back but you and Jack don’t hear them, the two of you in your own world for a moment, “they kinda don’t give a fuck,”
“Hey,” Jack says, his voice dropping to something much softer. He’s in awe of how beautiful you look under the harsh fluorescences of the ER.
“Hi, Dr. Abbot,” you smile, shaking your head, rubbing in the purell on your hands. The little group of nurses and doctors gather around you. You nod hello to Crus and Mateo, pausing on Nazely, “I don’t think we’ve gotten to work together yet,” you hold out your hand to her introducing yourself.
“Nazley Toomarian, intern,” she says, “I- I just started tonight,”
“Jesus and they put you on the night shift?” You turn to Jack, “free her.”
“I didn’t assign her to the night shift,” Jack holds his hands up in self defense.
“Well, it’s really nice to meet you Dr. Toomarian,” you say, “you’ve got a good teacher here,” you wink at Jack.
“You’re not biased or anything,” Jack smiles.
“Not at all,” you roll your eyes playfully, “whaddya got for me?”
“This is Judith. G1, P0 with no prenatal care. Preeclampsia with severe hypertension,” Nazley says, standing up a little straighter as she speaks to you, before turning back to Judith, “How's the headache?”
“Still a 10,” Judith moans.
“More fentanyl?” Crus asks.
“Yep,” Abbot says, trying to suppress the smile that wants to form on his face now that you’re in the room. He leans into you and murmurs under his breath, “missed you,”
“Jack, you saw me two hours ago,” you smile, "remember? We carpooled from our house?”
“BP's good,” Crus says, eyes on the monitor, “another fifty,”
Your eyes linger on Jack as he beams at you while you walk over to the patient's bedside.
“Hi Judith,” you say softly, “I’m Dr. Abbot from OB,”
“I thought he was Dr. Abbot,” Judith looks towards Jack.
“He is. I- uh- am too,” you smile at her, “we’re married,”
“Oh,” Judith sighs, “that’s nice. That you get to work together I mean. Do you have kids?”
“No,” you say, and you don’t have to turn your head to see that Jack has walked up next to you, to feel the tension radiating off Jack at her question. Thankfully Crus intervenes before Jack boils over.
“Some jelly on the belly. Gonna take a quick look with ultrasound.” Crus says, handing you the wand and gel.
“No, no, no.” Judith wraps her arms around her stomach, “ultrasound can harm the baby.”
“Not true.” Jack says curtly.
“I understand that you feel scared but not doing the ultrasound can end up harming you and the baby,” you say gently, “I want to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Ok,” Judith huffs, dropping her arm, “just do it as fast as you can,”
“Why no prenatal care, Judith?” You say, no judgment in your voice, squirting the gel on her stomach.
“I wanted a free birth,” she says defensively, “no doctors, no hospital, no medicine.”
“Mm,” Jack says from beside you, “you have a midwife? A birth doula?”
“No, I don't need one,” Judith says, as you drag the wand over her belly, “women have been having children on their own for thousands of years.”
“Yeah,” Jack says, clearly getting irritated, “with an infant mortality rate of 30% for most of those thousands of years,”
“You know Judith,” you say, cutting off your husband, speaking softly while keeping your eyes on the screen, “for a lot of those years birthing was a community event. Women relied on midwives and the other women in their lives to help them during childbirth.”
“What is this good cop bad cop?” Judith moans.
“I know this isn’t how you envisioned it,” you say, turning to her, “but there are a lot of people here who are more than happy to help you, if you’d let us.”
“Dr. Abbot is the best doctor in this hospital,” Jack says, feeling his heart swell at the patience and care you’re offering such a difficult patient, “I’d listen to her if I were you,”
“Femur length seven centimeters,” you say to Jack, “37 weeks. I’d induce.”
“What?” Judith says, panicked, “no, no, no. Absolutely not.”
“At 37 weeks, the cure for preeclampsia is to deliver the baby,” Jack says firmly, but with a little less bite, “we need to get you upstairs so Dr. Abbot can induce labor to save you and your baby.”
“No.” Judith sits up, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”
You stand, exchanging a knowing look with Jack before walking over to the phone and calling up to the OB department for a room.
“Labs are coming back.” Nazley says, pulling the labs up on the computer, “Hemoglobin 7.5, platelets 40. LFTs are sky high.”
“HELLP syndrome,” Jack shakes his head, looking at the results.
“Hemolytic anemia, elevated liver enzymes, and low platelets,” Crus explains to Nazley.
“They're cleaning a room,” you say, hanging up the phone, “I can bring her up in ten minutes.”
“How you doing, Judith?” Jack says, walking back to her bedside.
“I- I-” Judith’s eyes roll back, her body starts to spasm.
“Oh, she's seizing,” Nazely says.
“Oh, shit,” you say, moving next to Jack, “10 of IV diazepam. Have another 10 ready,”
“With all the movement, we can't get a fetal heartbeat,” Mateo says, checking the CTG.
“Putting on 15 liters by mask. Should we intubate?” Crus asks.
“Hold intubation. Let's try to break this. We don't want to mask seizures with paralysis unless we have to,” you say to Nazley, explaining your rationale.
“Nazely, what's the diagnosis?” Jack asks.
“Um, with the seizure, now it's eclampsia,” Nazely says.
“Fetal heart rate is about 90,” you shake your head, “way too low,”
“Mom's sats are going down,” Mateo says, his eyes on the monitor.
“Time to tube her?” Crus asks, looking between you and Jack. The two of you stare at each other, seeming to telepathically communicate.
“Set up for it, but wait,” you speak for the pair of you, “another 10 of diazepam. Push 4 grams of Keppra.”
“Pulse ox is 88,” Mateo says, shaking his head.
“Dr. Abbot?” Crus says, looking at Jack, “Intubate?”
But Jack looks at you.
“Let’s do it,” you say.
“Nazely, what do you suggest for rapid sequence induction?” Jack says.
“Etomidate and roc,” Nazely offers her best guess.
“Mm, not quite, Dr. Toomarian,” you say, snapping on a pair of gloves, “120 of propofol, 60 of succinylcholine.”
“Why is that, Crus?” Jack says, pulling on his own pair of gloves.
“Propofol for the anti-seizure effect, sux to avoid prolonged paralysis so we can check her neuro exam.” Crus says.
“Exactly,” Jack nods.
“Pushing the propofol,” Mateo injects the medication into Judith’s IV.
“Once she's flat for intubation we need to displace the uterus to the left,” you say across the table to Jack.
“Nazely, that's you. Big hug, both arms. Get the baby off the vena cava.” Jack mimes the movement, guiding her.
“What's she had so far?” Shen says, walking in the room.
“30 of diazepam, a full load of mag, Keppra, and propofol,” Jack says, eyes on the monitor.
“Damn.” Ellis’ eyes follow Jack's, “What's your next step?”
“Any ideas?” Jack asks the room, “Nazely?”
“Dilantin? Valproate?” Nazely offers.
“Infusion is too long. Push 100 of ketamine. That's had results with refractory status,” you say, nodding at Nazely. She injects the ketamine into the IV and immediately the heart rate picks up, but not as much as you’d like, “little better.”
“Yeah. She should be upstairs with the rest of OB,” Shen shakes his head.
“Best of OB is down here with us,” Jack says, looking at you with adoration. You smile and shake your head at his compliment. The phone in the room rings and Ellis moves to pick it up.
“Ok, got it.” she says, “OB says send her and Dr. Abbot up. They have an OR ready.”
“This one looks like it took a turn for the worse,” Robby says walking into the room, and as if he spoke it into existence, Judith’s heart starts to fail, “fuck. V-fib”!
“Chest compressions, Dr. Toomarian, Charge to 200,” you say, commanding the room, “Prep the belly. Get a baby warmer. Call the NICU. Start a timer.”
“Charged. Clear.” Mateo says. Everyone raises their hands off Judith and steps back. A shock jolts her body but her heart doesn’t pick up again on its own, “continue compressions!”
“Gown up, baby, it's you and me.” Abbot looks across the table at you and you give your head a little shake at the pet name in this dire circumstance.
“Dr. Toomarian, do you know the four-minute rule?” You ask as Mateo helps you slip on a gown.
“Uh, not sure.” Nazely says, tying Jack’s gown for him.
“Pregnant patient with a viable fetus, you have four minutes after cardiac arrest to save the baby.” You say, sliding your goggles up your nose.
“And the mom,” Jack adds, “we don't call it a postmortem C-section anymore. It's a resuscitative hysterotomy to try to save them both.”
“But she doesn't want any medical intervention.” Nazley says tepidly.
“Doesn't matter. Mom and baby are both dead if we do nothing.” You say. “OK, charge to 200. One more rhythm check and then Jack and I are gonna cut. Ellis, you and Crus on Mom resuscitation. Shen, you and Nazely take the baby. OK, hold compressions.”
Everyone steps back, raising their hands off Judith’s limp body.
“Still V-fib.” Crus shakes his head.
“We need to get this baby out right now,” Jack says to you, and you nod, “let’s have eyes on Dr. Abbot, this is a priceless demonstration we’re about to get,”
“Ok, ten blade,” you say, holding out your hand, grateful you’re masked up so the trauma room can’t see you blush. Mateo places the scalpel in your hand.
“First incision is from the xiphoid to the pubic symphysis through the skin to the linea alba.” You say, dragging the blade down her belly.
“Second incision goes through the peritoneum, exposing the uterus,” you’re laser focused, making an identical incision on the deeper layer of skin.
“Ellis, gentle traction,” Jack says, pulling back his retractor and she mirrors his movements.
“Ok, making a small vertical incision through the lower uterus so as not to cut the baby,” you say, taking the scissors from Mateo, “using scissors to extend superiorly.”
“Ellis, hand retract the uterus with me.” Jack says, knowing what you need before you have to ask.
“Amniotic fluid looks good,” you say, as it spills out, “give me some fundal pressure.”
“Breech position,” Jack says, as you reach into her uterus.
“Baby's out. It's a girl!” You say, and Jack can hear the smile in your voice. He knows that this is your favorite part, usually much more joyful and with the mother conscious.
“Ok, blue and flaccid. We got mommy, you take baby,” You say to Shen. Everyone works in frantic precision. You pull out the placenta in a smooth motion, getting it all out in one go.
“Hold compressions.” Jack says.
“I got a weak carotid.” Mateo says, and you breathe out in relief.
“No seizure activity on the EEG.” Crus says, eyes on the monitor.
“Ah!” Shen calls from across the room, “Baby girl just scored the winning point! APGAR of 8 is pretty normal.”
“Holy shit,” Dr. Pettyfer, your OB colleague pushes in the room, “what did I miss?
“Eclampsia with status, HELLP syndrome, cardiac arrest, resuscitative hysterotomy.” Jack says, resting his hands on his hips.
“I was in the OR with a septic twin C-section,” Pettyfer says, looking between you and Jack, “got your text 12 minutes ago.”
“Shit happens fast down here,” Jack shrugs.
“Dr. Abbot did a resuscitative hysterotomy in 36 seconds.” Crus says, awe in his voice.
“Impressive,” Pettyfer crosses his arm, looking down at Judith.
“You’re not gonna ask which one?” Jack says, crossing his arms.
“I don’t have to,” Pettyfer smirks.
“NICU's sending a team down,” Mateo says, hanging up the phone.
“Alright well I can take mom along with my star resident,” Pettyfer nods at you before turning to the ER crew, “you guys are rock stars,”
“We like to be referred to as crawlers of the night,” Jack says, a playful lilt in his voice.
“My god,” you roll your eyes at him, before turning back to Pettyfer, “can I meet you up there in five? I wanna wait for NICU to come get the baby,”
“Yeah, no problem,” Pettyfer says as Crus and Ellis help him roll Judith out of the room, the rest of the ER staff clearing out leaving you and Jack alone. You lock eyes and let out a long, deep breath.
“You were amazing,” Jack says, walking towards you, the tip of his boot bumping against your sneaker.
“I fucking hate anti-vaxx, make america healthy again bullshit people,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jack teases as he moves his arms around your body, holding you against him. You pinch his side and he yells out a little yelp.
“She was scared,” you say, breathing in his smell, “idiots can be scared too, Jack,”
“So true, baby,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “you were good with her,”
“I was,” you sigh.
“I didn’t like it when she asked if we had kids,” Jack says into your hair.
“She was just scared, looking for a little connection,” you say, pulling back so you can look your husband in the eye, “it’s ok that we’re doing things our own way. We’re allowed to not want kids.”
“I love you so much,” he says, squeezing your hip.
“I love you so much,” you echo.
“Fuck kids,” Jack says.
“Fuck kids,” you say so enthusiastically Jack can’t help but laugh, “...for us though. For other people it’s super important to my livelihood.”
“Right,” Jack nods in mock seriousness. You smile at him, running your hands up his arms, locking your fingers behind his neck.
“I want you all to myself,” you whisper, leaning up, quickly biting his ear lobe. Jack grips down on your waist and lets out a small, soft groan.
“You got me,” he rasps.
“I know,” you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I gotta get back upstairs my love,”
“Ok,” he says, trying not to be so disappointed, especially after getting to spend a little extra time with you.
Jack shoves his hands in his pockets as the pair of you walk towards the elevators, knowing he’d be too tempted to take your hand if he didn’t.
“If I give you constructive feedback will you still love me?” You say, as the pair of you move slowly through the pitt.
“I’ll love you no matter what,” Jack hums.
“You should try to call Nazley Dr. Toomarian,” you say, clasping your hands behind your back, “she just became a doctor. And I know you have your whole fun-attending-night-crawlers thing but… she worked hard to get here and I think it could mean a lot. Especially because the night shift down here is kind of a boys club,”
“We have Ellis!” Jack says.
“Jack…” you stop in front of the elevator giving him a somewhat incredulous look,“Ellis is the head of boys club,”
“Point taken,” he laughs, pausing, letting his eyes run over your face. “Ok. I’ll work on that. Can I give you some constructive feedback?” He pushes the elevator button for you.
“Of course,” you smile. Jack leans towards you, letting his finger brush against the back of your palm, against your wedding band.
“Your ass… looks amazing in those scrubs,” he whispers.
“Jack!” You laugh, as the elevator dings open, starting to walk through the doors.
“Hey,” Jack says in almost a whine, grasping your hand in his.
“What?” You smile.
“No kiss?” He says, his eyes wide and puppy-like.
“We are at work,” you smile, squeezing his hand and he gives you this look like he knows you want to kiss him just as badly. You sigh, “fine. A little one,”
“Just a little one,” Jack says, crinkling his nose, leaning towards you, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You giggle against his mouth, turning your head away.
“That’s all you get,” you smile, pulling away, backing into the elevator.
“I’ll see you later,” Jack says, the tips of his ears red, burying his hands in his pockets.
“Bye, Dr. Abbot,” you say, drawing out his name with a flirty twang.
“Bye Dr. Abbot,” he nods at you with that smoldering look you love so much. You blow him a little kiss before the elevator doors slide shut. He catches it and presses it against his heart. It’s gonna be a long shift.
organising the bachelorette ✓ calming the bride ✓ not fucking the best man ✓
wc: 6.7k
tags: texting, gentleman jack abbot, maid of honour!reader, slowish burn, eventual smut, dating, unprotected p in v, fingering, blowjobs, no age gap mentioned
The wedding had come around far quicker than you expected.
Your best friend had been dreaming about this day since she was fifteen, long before there’d ever been a ring on her finger. She’d planned the dress, decided on the venue and even had opinions on the hors d’oeuvres that would be passed around on silver platters during the reception. By the time her fiancé proposed, she already had a guest list tucked away somewhere and at least three pinterest boards dedicated to centrepieces alone.
So, really, you shouldn’t have been surprised when she ran the wedding like a military operation.
As her maid of honour, you’d been promoted to second-in-command. There were group chats for every task, weekly coffee dates spent debating whether the invitations should be cream or ecru, despite the fact they looked exactly the same, and enough colour-coded spreadsheets to make a project manager weep with pride. She may as well have handed you a headset and started calling you Monica Gellar.
Not that you minded.
You happily accompanied her to cake tastings and offered diplomatic advice when seating plans threatened to reignite decade-old family feuds. Being maid of honour wasn’t just a title to you. It was a responsibility, and you intended to do it properly.
Still, even you had to admit she’d gone a little overboard when your phone buzzed with a notification announcing you’d been added to your seventh WhatsApp group.
bridesmaids x groomsmen 🤍
Apparently this one existed solely to pair everyone up before the wedding.
You frowned at the screen.
It wasn’t exactly as though you needed weeks of preparation to walk down an aisle beside someone. Surely introducing yourselves five minutes before the ceremony would suffice. Clearly not.
Five minutes later a lengthy message from Katy appeared...
hey all! we're only a week away from the big day, so you know what that means… time for matchmakers! 💍
i've dropped a list below of all you lovely bridesmaids and your corresponding groomsmen. i'm pretty sure most of you know each other already, but if not, pleeease make sure you have a chat before next weekend. i don’t want any awkwardness down the aisle!!!
love you all! xoxo katy 💋
A laugh escaped you. Trust Katy to treat introductions like another item on the wedding itinerary.
You didn't have to look far for your name, sat in bold at the very top with MOH next to it. Cute.
Your gaze drifted across the page to the name beside yours.
jack - BM
You frowned again. Katy had said everyone already knew each other.
You didn’t know a Jack.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you tapped on the name to open his contact.
Nothing. No profile picture. No status. Just a phone number and one solitary word.
Jack.
Helpful. You tilted your head at the screen.
“Who… are you?” you murmured to yourself.
For someone important enough to be the best man, he was remarkably mysterious.
You tried to think back to any mention of a Jack. High school? University? Work? Somewhere in passing over the years? But Katy and Matt collected friends wherever they went, the sort of couple who could strike up a conversation in a queue and leave with an invitation to dinner. Jack could’ve been anyone.
Eventually, you decided it wasn’t really your problem.
You’d introduce yourself before the ceremony, exchange the obligatory pleasantries, walk down the aisle together and that would be that.
Your phone buzzed before you’d even set it back down.
An unsaved number. Curiosity won.
Hi. Katy’s orders. Apparently we’re supposed to become friends before next Saturday?
I’m Jack
A smile tugged at your lips.
wow… you’re real
The reply came almost instantly.
Jack:
Last time I checked
Although Katy’s got enough spreadsheets to convince me we’re all just NPCs in this wedding
A laugh escaped you.
So, he was funny.
You saved his contact, half expecting a profile picture to magically appear. But nothing. No photo. No status. Just Jack.
The mystery lived on.
honestly, maid of honour duties are keeping me up at night
Jack:
Can’t say Matt’s got me working quite as hard. Guess I lucked out?
if u fancy swapping the suit for a bridesmaid’s dress, i'm sure we could come to some sort of arrangement...
Jack:
I’m in.
You smiled to yourself.
As first conversations went, this one was surprisingly easy. There was none of the awkward small talk Katy had clearly been trying to avoid. Instead, every message seemed to slot another tiny piece into the image you’d started building in your head.
Funny. Quick-witted. Entirely faceless.
so… how do you know matt anyway?
bit surprised i've never heard of you before today, considering you’re the best man
A typing bubble appeared and disappeared.
Then came his reply.
Jack:
Ouch. That stings a little
You grinned.
Jack:
Kidding. Honestly, I was surprised too. Thought his brother would’ve got the gig
Another pause.
Jack:
I’ve only known him a couple of years. Helped him out after he had that accident a while back
You frowned at the screen.
That accident.
That was one way of putting it.
It's been a horrific three-car pile up. Matt had been trapped behind the steering wheel while emergency services fought to free him. He’d spent weeks in hospital recovering, and afterwards Katy never stopped talking about the guy who’d pulled him from the wreckage, kept him alive until the ambulance arrived and refused to leave his side.
She’d called him a miracle more than once.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.
wait
you're that guy
There was a brief pause before his reply arrived.
Jack:
That guy?
the guy who literally stopped matt from dying
Jack:
Guilty as charged
You stared at the screen for a moment.
Well that certainly explained the best man title.
From everything Katy had told you, Matt had made a point of staying in touch after he recovered. What had started as gratitude had slowly turned into an unlikely friendship, one that had clearly become important enough for Jack to be standing beside him on his wedding day.
jesus didn't realise i was texting a real-life hero
His reply appeared almost immediately.
Jack:
Not a hero. Just a doctor :)
It should’ve sounded unbearably cheesy but instead, it was somehow the most impressive thing you’d heard all week.
Another piece of the Jack-shaped puzzle quietly clicked into place.
You woke early the next morning, rolling over to savour the last few peaceful minutes before your alarm dragged you into the day.
More out of habit than expectation, you reached for your phone.
No new messages.
You weren’t sure why that disappointed you.
Last night’s conversation with Jack had been… nice. Surprisingly easy. The kind of conversation that left you smiling at your screen without really noticing.
You slipped your phone back onto the bedside table and got on with your morning, went to work and about your business.
By 10:30, you’d almost forgotten about it.
Then your phone buzzed.
Jack:
Morning
A second message followed almost immediately.
Jack:
Just remembered we’re supposed to spend an entire day together on Saturday
A smile found its way onto your face before you’d even started typing.
bit late to back out now…
His reply came within seconds.
Jack:
Shame. I was hoping you’d be unbearable so I’d have an excuse
You huffed a laugh.
give me time x
The tiny blue haha reaction popped up above your message.
Well. At least he appreciated your sense of humour.
Jack:
I was going to say… we’re spending a whole day together and I don’t actually know much about you
You have my story
hardly!
Jack:
Well the important bits
You rolled your eyes.
what, that you’re a doctor who saves lives? very impressive but limited I'm afraid
i'm going to need more than that
Jack:
Alright then. What do you want to know?
You didn’t even have to think about it.
first celebrity crush. fave drink. best holiday you’ve ever been on. go
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Jack:
Sounds less like getting to know each other and more like you’re preparing for one hell of a date...
Heat crept into your cheeks despite yourself.
answer the questions!!!
Jack:
Sarah Connor
Saw Terminator at the cinema when I was about ten and thought she was the coolest person on Earth
You blinked. That wasn’t the answer you’d expected.
Jack:
Bourbon. I know, I’m painfully predictable
And Italy
Most beautiful place I’ve ever been
You smiled as you read each message, the puzzle coming together piece by piece.
Jack:
Your turn.
afraid i have a meeting now
you'll have to wait 🤗
Jack:
You're a cruel woman
By the time your meeting finally wrapped up, you’d forgotten all about your unfinished interrogation.
It wasn’t until you collapsed onto your sofa that evening, kicking your shoes off with a sigh, that your phone lit up once again.
Jack:
Right
I’ve waited long enough
Pay up
You frowned at the screen for a second before remembering.
Oh. The little Q&A you had going on before you had to slip off to work.
A grin spread across your face as you unlocked your phone.
demanding, aren’t we?
Jack:
I’ve been told patience is a virtue
Unfortunately I work in an emergency department, so mine’s been worn dangerously thin
You laughed.
fine 😤
celeb crush… orlando bloom but specifically POTC orlando bloom
His reply arrived before you could even start thinking about the next answer.
Jack:
The fuck is POTC? Did he have an illness?
You snorted.
pirates of the caribbean you idiot
😭😭😭
Jack:
Jesus I'm old
Anyway, next
...... wow
fave drink spicy marg, a classic?
then best vacation probably greece
went to a tiny island, all white buildings and clear ocean it was unbelievable
A minute passed before another message appeared.
Jack:
You strike me as someone who plans a vacation down to the minute....
You frowned.
excuse me?
Jack:
Colour coded itineries, packing half your closet, arriving to the airport four hours before your flight?
You stared at your phone in mild offence.
who have you been talking to?
Jack:
No one...
Lucky guess?
You were almost annoyed he had you figured out already.
three hours early
and the itinerary is only to get the most out of the vacation
everyone is grateful for it ok
A blue haha appeared over the middle text.
Jack:
Knew it
alright then, mr knows absolutely everything
tell me something about yourself i couldn’t POSSIBLY guess
The typing bubble must have stopped and appeared ten times before finally-
Jack:
I’ve never seen Titanic
Woah too far. Is this a red flag?
get out
Jack:
Never seen Star Wars either
i don't care about that one but titanic ???
where have you been
your name is literally jack did people not taunt you in the 90s
Jack:
They did and that's exactly why I haven't seen it
Fuck that movie, I've heard there was more than enough room on that door
The conversation drifted on from there. You told each other all the important stuff: Jack's first concert was Pearl Jam, the story where you totalled your first car at seventeen, how Jack is a military man but has a deadly hatred of fish.
You'd laughed hard at that. He got you back when you confessed once peed your pants at a Dairy Queen over the age of twenty. He asked for more details and you obviously declined.
Before long, another hour has passed. It felt strange, the idea that you were getting on so well with this man after a mere two days of texting.
You’d never met him.
You still had no idea what colour his eyes were, whether he was tall or short, whether he gestured when he talked or smiled with dimples or laugh lines.
And yet, somehow, the faceless contact labelled Jack was becoming the person you found yourself looking for whenever your phone buzzed.
T-minus four days until the wedding of the century.
When you’d first started texting Jack, it had been because Katy insisted the bridal party got acquainted before Saturday but now, neither of you had mentioned the wedding once.
Your phone buzzed just after seven.
Jack:
Morning
Hope your coffee’s better than mine...
A photo followed. The paper cup balanced on the nurses’ station looked as miserable as the coffee inside it probably tasted.
You laughed to yourself before replying with a picture of your own mug. Unlike his, yours was pink with little blue flowers painted around the rim.
Jack:
Much better
Jealous already
You didn’t know it, but Jack found himself smiling at his phone before he’d even looked at the mug. Instead, his eyes had landed on your hand wrapped around it, the neat manicure and silver rings on your fingers, the tiny glimpse into the life of someone he’d somehow become accustomed to talking to.
Wednesday slipped by in the same easy rhythm the last couple of days had settled into.
You learnt that Jack worked nights, meaning his first message usually arrived just as he was finishing his shift. Every morning you’d remind him that drinking coffee immediately before bed was a terrible idea.
Every morning he’d ignore you.
When you sent him a photo of the sandwich you’d picked up from the deli opposite your office, he told you it was his favourite lunch spot whenever he found himself nearby.
Later that evening, he sent a picture of his dinner.
The logo in the corner of the takeaway bag made you laugh.
no way. that's my favourite thai place!
Jack:
Good taste
i'd say the same to you
It was strange how often your lives seemed to overlap. Favourite cafés and the same takeaways. The same terrible habit of skipping lunch when work got busy.
None of it was particularly significant on its own, but each little coincidence felt like another thread quietly weaving the two of you together.
By the time evening rolled around and Jack was on shift, his messages became less frequent.
You understood that and yet you caught yourself glancing at your phone more often than you cared to admit, almost expecting it to light up.
By Thursday morning, reaching for your phone before you’d even opened the curtains had become second nature.
Usually, Jack beat you to it.
Today, he didn’t.
You decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity.
had the most boring evening last night because SOMEONE decided not to text me
You hit send before you could overthink it. Thirty minutes passed before your phone buzzed.
He was probably drifting in and out of sleep after another night shift.
Jack:
I can only apologise
Think half of Pittsburgh decided to walk into the ED last night
Your smile softened. It was easy to forget sometimes.
Over the past few days, Jack had become the man who complained about hospital coffee, debated which movies were actually classics and spammed your messages with a whole lot of Hahas.
Then he’d casually remind you that his day (or night) job involved keeping people alive.
It was… admittedly rather attractive.
suppose i'll forgive you
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
Think it means I owe you a drink?
You grinned.
at the free bar on saturday?
don't spend all your doctor money on me sir
Jack:
I wasn’t actually thinking about the wedding...
Your thumb hovered over the screen as you read the message again.
And then one more arrived.
That’s assuming you don’t hate me in person
If you don’t… I’d quite like to take you out properly
You stared at the words for a moment longer than you’d care to admit.
A week ago, Jack had been nothing more than a name in a WhatsApp group and now, somehow, the thought of meeting him had you smiling at your phone like an idiot.
Then you realised you hadn't replied.
The truth was, you didn’t know how.
One minute you were debating favourite vacations and celebrity crushes, the next Jack was talking about taking you on a date. It wasn’t exactly the direction you’d expected the conversation to take with a man you’d only known for four days and only through a phone screen.
Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard. You typed then deleted it. Tried again and deleted that too.
Eventually, you settled on the approach that seemed to define the two of you best.
Light-hearted sarcasm.
bold of you to assume I’m even going to like you in person?
Jack:
I’m choosing to ignore that
A smile tugged at your lips.
you should x
Jack:
Good
Because I’d already started thinking about where I’d take you
You let out a quiet breath, suddenly very aware of the warmth spreading across your cheeks.
Before you could dwell on it too much, you steered the conversation back onto safer ground.
you're terrible at this flirting thing you know
Jack:
Who said I was flirting?
oh pleeeease
Jack:
Fine
Maybe a little
You spoke again that evening.
Jack was already back at work when another photo dropped into the chat. This one from the ambulance bay.
Darkness had settled over the hospital, the glow from the automatic doors spilling across the wet tarmac outside. He wasn’t in the picture, not really, but when you looked closer you caught the faintest reflection in the glass.
Just enough to make out the outline of his figure standing with one hand in his pocket.
A flash of metal hung around his neck, catching the fluorescent light. His stethoscope, you assumed.
looks exciting!
Jack:
Don’t jinx me
sorry
hope your evening is full of stubbed toes and minor headaches
A blue Haha reaction appeared before his reply.
Jack:
That’s oddly specific
i'm just trying to manifest an easy shift for you
Jack:
Much appreciated
The conversation drifted on long after that, jumping from one meaningless topic to the next any time he managed to sneak a break with his phone.
The last thing you sent him that night was a rambling commentary on the sitcom he’d admitted to watching whenever his head was too fried after work to concentrate on anything else.
You’d finally given it a go and apparently it did the trick.
Between the salon appointment, packing an overnight bag for the wedding hotel and making sure everything at work had been handed over before the weekend, there was plenty to do.
For the first time all week, you let yourself sleep in.
It was nearly nine thirty when you finally reached for your phone to see two unread voice notes from Jack. Both sent at 7:16 a.m.
A smile found you before you’d even pressed play.
Voice message (0:12)
“Just driving home from the hospital. Figured this was easier than texting…”
“You can thank me later for recommending that sleep-inducing TV show.”
You could hear the quiet hum of the engine beneath his voice, punctuated every now and then by the steady click of his turn signal.
For a moment, it felt strangely intimate. Like you were sitting in the passenger seat beside him.
The second voice note was even shorter.
Voice message (0:15)
“One more thing…”
There was a pause, as though he’d almost forgotten.
“Hope you’re wearing comfortable shoes tomorrow.”
You heard him laugh quietly to himself.
“Matt sent me the wedding playlist. I'm definitely stealing you for a dance.”
You replayed that one. Then, before you could stop yourself… you played it four more times.
You texted him back to tell him your heels were six inches high, but you’d endure the pain for him.
There was no reply.
Jack was almost certainly asleep by then, finally home after another night shift, so you slipped your phone into your bag and got on with your day.
There was plenty to keep you occupied.
You packed your overnight bag, headed to the salon for your hair appointment and fielded what felt like a hundred phone calls from Katy, each one another last minute check to make sure everything was exactly as she’d imagined.
Not that there was even much left to organise.
By that evening, you’d checked into the hotel where the bridal party would be staying. Tonight was reserved for celebratory drinks; tomorrow morning would begin before sunrise with hair, makeup and enough champagne to calm eight nervous women before the biggest day of Katy’s life.
Jack, meanwhile, slept through most of the afternoon and thankfully had the night off.
The last thing you wanted was for the best man to arrive straight from the ED looking as though he’d survived the apocalypse.
Matt had organised beers with the groomsmen instead, the plan being for them all to arrive fresh or fresh enough on Saturday morning.
Tomorrow.
The thought made your stomach flutter and now because of the wedding. Tomorrow, you’d finally see him. The anticipation was equal parts exciting and terrifying.
Your phone lit up later that evening.
Jack:
Think I’ve had enough sleep to last me a lifetime today
Consider my wedding prep complete
From your hotel room, you snapped a quick picture of your fresh manicure wrapped around the handle of your overnight bag.
mine too!
A moment later a little pink heart appeared on the picture and you paused. He’d never reacted to one of your pictures before.
Jack:
Is it crazy to say I’m really excited to see you tomorrow?
Your heart gave an inconvenient little flip even though you wanted to play this cool.
i have that effect on people
A few seconds passed before you sent another message.
but seriously… i'm excited to see you too
i's say we’ve followed katy's orders pretty well. hopefully we know each other well enough to survive walking down the aisle together
Somewhere along the way, you’d both forgotten this conversation had started because someone else told you to.
An hour later, you found yourself surrounded by six bridesmaids and one very emotional bride.
The hotel bar buzzed with conversation as spicy margs appeared one after another, glasses clinking together in toast after toast.
To Katy. To Matt. To the years that led them here.
Stories were shared, embarrassing memories dragged back into the light and every so often Katy dabbed at the corners of her eyes before insisting she absolutely wasn’t crying.
You were having a wonderful time.
Even so… your phone remained face up beside your glass.
Every time it lit up with Jack, you found yourself smiling before you’d even read the message.
You spent the evening updating each other from opposite sides of the wedding.
He complained about the groomsmen and you sent him photographs of increasingly chaotic bridesmaids.
He rated the beers. You rated the cocktails.
By the time midnight rolled around, you’d both had enough drinks that the conversation lost some of its usual sarcasm.
A new message appeared.
Jack:
There’s something I should probably tell you before tomorrow
Your smile faded.
Jack:
It’s always the awkward part of meeting someone new… but I’d rather you heard it from me than saw it
A knot tightened in your stomach. Your mind immediately leapt to every worst-case scenario imaginable. Secret girlfriend. Children. Something that would make the last week feel very different.
You swallowed.
okay…?
The typing bubble lingered for a long time.
Jack:
You know I was in the military. Two tours overseas
Well… I was medically discharged after I lost my leg
It’s amputated below the knee
I get around fine, but I limp if I’ve been on my feet too long
I just didn’t want tomorrow to be the first time you noticed
You stared at the screen. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, your eyes stung. Not because it changed anything but because it didn’t.
You wished, more than anything, that he wasn’t several miles away.
jack :(
if you think that’s going to make me like you any less, you’ve got another thing coming
thank you for telling me. i can’t imagine that’s an easy conversation to have with someone you’ve only just met
if anything… i think you’re even braver than i already thought ❤️
His reply came almost instantly.
Jack:
First of all…
We’re not strangers anymore
You smiled.
Jack:
Secondly…
If I’d known losing a leg was worth a red heart, I’d have mentioned it on Monday
The laugh escaped before you could stop it and a few heads turned around the table.
“Sorry,” you grinned, quickly setting your phone face down. "Carry on.”
Champagne flutes filled, music drifted through the bridal suite and someone was already laughing before hair and makeup had even begun. Katy was first in the chair, as she’d insisted, while you floated between topping up glasses and making sure everyone had actually eaten something.
When she finally stepped into her dress, the room fell quiet.
You’d seen it at every fitting, pinned and clipped and half-finished, but nothing compared to seeing it now.
Pearls scattered delicately across her collarbones, the corseted bodice cinching perfectly at her waist before falling into a lace train that seemed to glide across the floor behind her.
For a moment, all you could do was look at your best friend.
“You are absolutely not crying before I walk down that aisle,” Katy warned, catching your expression in the mirror.
You laughed, blinking quickly.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m… emotional.”
She rolled her eyes affectionately.
“You’re going to ruin your makeup before I ruin mine.”
The bridesmaids slipped into sage green dresses that morning, soft satin catching the light as everyone fussed over zips, earrings and bouquets. Yours skimmed perfectly over your figure, the colour making your eyes appear brighter than usual.
The morning passed in a whirlwind and you barely looked at your phone. There simply wasn’t time.
Somewhere amongst the chaos, Jack arrived with the other groomsmen an hour before the ceremony, but the two of you remained on opposite sides of the hotel.
The calm disappeared as bouquets were handed out and the mother of the bride burst into tears.
As maid of honour, you became the unofficial shepherd, ushering everyone towards the courtyard before anyone had the chance to wander off.
Only when everyone was lined up did you finally stop moving.
You straightened Katy’s veil one last time, adjusted a bouquet and took a steadying breath.
A quiet cough sounded behind you.
“I’m looking for the maid of honour.”
The voice was instantly familiar. Youturned.
Oh. So this was Jack.
Silver threaded through dark hair, a perfectly tailored suit sitting effortlessly across broad shoulders, the sage green pocket square matching your dress exactly. A dusting of stubble framed a smile you’d already decided was dangerous.
He looked every bit as confident as he sounded over text. Maybe more.
His gaze met yours with unmistakable recognition, lingering just long enough to make your stomach flip.
“Heard I’ve got the best seat in the house,” he added. “Walking down the aisle with her.”
You smiled before you even realised you were doing it.
“Ah… my mystery man.”
Stepping towards him, you extended your hand.
“Nice to finally meet you.”
He looked at your hand, then back at you, a grin spreading across his face.
“I think we’ve earned more than a handshake.”
Even so, he took it. His hand was warm.
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
Before either of you could say another word-
“Places!” Katy’s wedding coordinator clapped her hands and everyone hurried into position.
Jack offered his arm without a word and you slipped yours through it instinctively before instrumental version of Bittersweet Symphony floated through the speakers.
You glanced sideways.
“Very Katy.”
He chuckled. “I was thinking exactly the same thing.”
Then the doors opened and you stepped forward together.
Petals lined the aisle, every familiar face turning to watch as you walked towards the ceremony.
Halfway down, Jack leaned in ever so slightly.
“And she thought this was going to be awkward.”
You laughed under your breath.
“Shows what she knows"
The ceremony passed in a blur.
You watched Katy and Matt exchange vows through misty eyes, smiling as Jack stepped forward to hand over the rings.
Every so often, you’d glance across the altar.
Every time, his eyes were already on you.
Then the reception arrived in a flurry of hugs, photographs and champagne.
You barely saw Jack for the next hour.
There were veils to collect, makeup to fix ans guests to direct. Only once everyone had settled into the reception room did you finally escape to the bar.
“Spicy margarita?”
You turned and smiled.
“You remembered. Bourbon?”
His smile widened. “You remembered too.”
The bartender slid both drinks across and for moment, neither of you spoke. You simply looked at each other.
“So?” Jack asked eventually.
“So?”
“Does the mystery man live up to expectations?”
You pretended to think about it.
“The jury’s still out.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Fair.”
“And what about you?”
He took a slow sip of bourbon.
“I think she’s even better than I imagined.”
Heat crept into your cheeks. Thankfully, the music swelled before you had to answer.
Jack set his glass down.
“Come on.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Dance floor.”
“Bossy.”
“So I’ve been told.”
You laughed and followed him anyway.
The song wasn’t anything special, just another upbeat wedding classic, but somehow that didn’t matter.
His hand settled carefully against your waist as yours rested on his shoulder. Your fingers intertwined.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admitted.
“What? The questionable DJ?”
His smile softened. “No.” His eyes held yours.“You.”
The word settled somewhere hot in your belly.
“You must’ve had a very quiet week.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
He smiled again.
“I still meant it.”
You looked away, suddenly fascinated by the fairy lights overhead.
“You’re a good dancer.”
“I practised.”
“You practised?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to let you down.”
His thumb brushed absentmindedly against your waist and you felt your heart responde immediately.
Everything around you seemed to fade into the background. The music, conversations, clinking glasses.
There was only him.
His eyes drifted to your lips before meeting yours again. You smirked when you caught him.
“You’re even prettier than I pictured.”
Your breath caught.
“I could say exactly the same about you.”
He laughed quietly. “Best compliment I’ve had all month.”
Several songs later, applause interrupted as speeches were announced.
Reluctantly, you left the dance floor as champagne appeared in your hand and guests settled into their seats.
Then, without a word, warm fingers slipped between yours. You looked down. Jack gave your hand the gentlest squeeze before nodding towards the hallway.
Questioning, you followed.
The noise faded with every step until only distant laughter filtered through the closed doors behind you.
He stopped, turning to face you.
“Jack…” you whispered. “What are we doing? Katy’s going to come looking for us.”
He took one small step closer.
“I’ve wanted to do something for a while.” His eyes dropped briefly to your lips. “I just couldn’t do it in there.”
Your pulse hammered. “Yeah?”
His smile was almost imperceptible.
“Yeah.”
Jack closed the distance between you, soft lips grazing yours in a kiss that felt both so gentle and hot. His thick hands snaked around your waist, pulling your body in and he almost gasped when your fingers found his curls.
He pulled away slightly, forehead resting against yours, lips stained with the pale blush of your gloss and you could've sworn you heard him utter an almost silent fuck under his breath.
"Been thinking about that for too long." He confessed.
"So since Wednesday?" You jibed.
He shook his head, laughing softly.
The main doors burst open, music flooding the hall again.
"We better get back." You didn't want to. You could've stayed here all night with Jack, savouring his taste.
He reluctantly agreed, following you back inside.
The wedding was everything Katy had imagined it to be yet it had been even better for you.
Everyone grew drunk and leery, the music became more danceable and empty shots lay littered across white table cloths.
It was around 1am when Jack walked you to your room. You were tipsy, not drunk, swaying nicely through the hotel lobby with your heels hooked through your fingers.
You stood side by side in the elevator, watching the floors pass in silence, the brush of his arm against yours covered them in goosebumps.
Then you were there, outside your hotel room, fishing for the plastic key strewn into your clutch bag. The door flashed green as you swiped, pushing the handle to open it just a crack.
After everything you'd learnt about Jack, the thing that stood out the most was his chivalry. The true definition of a gentleman. He walked you up here without even a hint at wanting to come inside, no matter how much he hoped you'd ask.
You stood, lip bitten, studying his face with such intent.
Then you kissed him again. This time different to downstairs, hotter and messier, you gripped his shirt until your knuckles paled. Even then, he didn't push you into the room, letting you lead, looking into your eyes for acceptance when you pulled away.
"Need you to come inside." You panted. "Please."
You didn't have to beg, he thought it sweet that you did anyway.
Then you were walking backwards, lips locked, until your calves hit the bed frame and you fell back to sit. Jack towered over you, his hand rising to cradle your face, thumb sweeping from your jaw to bottom lip.
"Beautiful girl."
You sucked his thumb into your mouth, hand lazily draped around his wrist as you pushed it in further. "And a dirty one too." He half laughed before his mouth fell open, watching you work your tongue.
You pulled it out with a pop. He was hard against his trousers, you could see that. Thick outline straining against the material and he jolted into your touch when you started to rub your palm right where his cockhead was.
"Fuuuuck," his head fell back despite your touch being so gentle. You wondered how he'd react when you took him in your mouth.
"Can I?" You whispered, hand tugging at his belt buckle.
He nodded, eyes dark, pupils blown.
You made short work of it, pulling the buckle open to release the buttons and slowly draw down the zip. His shirt was untucked and you could see the light dusting of hair leading south. Suddenly you were aware of the slickness between your own legs.
You freed him from his boxers, a little taken aback by the size of him, swallowing thickly as he stood in front of you. Hard and girthy, tip reddened from your teasing.
With a few slow strokes, you leant into him, tongue darting out to lick the head. His hips jumped, hand in your hair as you took your time. Your tongue trailed down his shaft, swirling the precum away. Saliva fell from your lips and you coated him entirely before taking his cock in your mouth. You held him at the base as you adjusted to his size.
"Jesus Christ baby," your head bobbed slow and deep. "Want me to cum right now? Fuck." He laughed weakly, fist tightening in your hair when he felt the back of your throat tighten around him.
You moaned at the feel, a gargled noise vibrating against skin before you sped up. He tasted so good and filled your mouth completely. You got so carried away, getting your throat fucked he had to pull you off.
"Not gonna cum in your mouth the first time baby," he panted. "Need to feel you properly."
It was the best sex you'd ever had. He undressed you so tenderly, peeled away the sodden panties, not before bringing them to his face, taking all of you in. Fingers danced over your slit, spreading your wetness until your pussy was shaking for something more.
"Jack!" You gasped when strong hands hooked under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
His tongue found your clit with ease, licking clean circles so tightly you were panting his name and practically humping his face. You came at the first feel of his thick fingers inside you, he'd worked you so good and proper with his tongue that all it took was a deep curl of his middle finger to send you reeling, back arched, heels dug into his back.
He gave you a minute to come round, hands stroking your thighs, wandering over every inch of skin.
"That was so good baby," he cooed. "So fucking good."
"Need you to fuck me," your breaths were still shallow and hard. "Please Jack, need you inside me."
How could he refuse?
"I'm gonna baby, gonna make you feel so good." He kissed your stomach, hands ghosting your sides and making you shiver. "Just a sec okay?"
Jack turned to sit on the edge of the bed. You didn't realise until he removed his pants the rest of the way, letting them pool to the floor and reveal the prosthetic attached at the knee.
He removed it with such ease, setting it aside and rubbing the skin where it had sat.
When he turned to you, his expression was different.
"Does it bother you?"
You wanted to hold him and never let go.
"Not in the slightest." You came up to your knees, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Your lips ghosted the shell of his ear. "Want you so bad..."
Jack fucked you til you were shaking. You took him so well, legs wrapped around his back, cock so deep it felt like he was pounding the inside of your stomach.
His moans made you wetter, the way he'd grunt on every thrust, snap his hips into you and cry out, your name being whispered over and over.
"That's it baby, just like that, so fuckin good oh my-" he stuttered, body tensing as he felt his release building. You were closer, seconds from the hardest orgasm you'd had in years, hips jolting up into him, nails dragging down his chest.
"M gonna cum Jack, you're gonna make me c-cum..."
He held all his weight on one hand beside you, sinking into the mattress. The other found your clit again, circling it frantically and in rhythm with his cock slamming into your cunt.
"Come on baby that's it, cum for me, beautiful girl, come on-"
Your vision blurred, muscles clenched, pussy throbbing around his cock. You came on him with a long drawn out cry, head pressed back into the pillow.
You were a sight for sore eyes, pussy oozing, dripping onto the sheets. Jack felt it, pulling out to fuck his fist until he was spurting hot and white over your stomach with a deep, throaty groan.
You could've cum again just from that. The way he pumped his fist, mouth agape, eyes burning into you.
It took a while to catch your breath. Both of you. Then you were laid, head on his chest, on the hotel bed. Your wedding attire strewn across the room, curtains half shut. He kissed your temple and nursed you to sleep with the soft stroke of his hands against your shoulder.
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