The introvert that is shy of People or "eww people?" 🤔
HMMM I don't believe he is shy, but it doesn't mean he dislikes people
It is kind of canon that he felt sometime alone, because he had no friends 😭 i think it is more "huh. People can't deal with me. Welp... that's how it is" his straightforwardness, rational thought and impassive face clearly doesn't help him. He talks only when he thinks it is necessary ??
It seems like the largest lot size they have in the world for the new sims 4 "Royalty" expansion pack is ... 64x 64...?? Seriously..? If there were any time to add some massive 100x100 lot to the game, it would be in a pack where people are going to be trying to build entire castle properties and etc. Even just ONE bigger lot.....augh... Forever dreaming of a mythical 200x200 lot to manifest my whimsical visions of mazelike abandoned ruins or whatever else lol.. you fools..
hm.... exploring jake as nonbinary/agender who very much performs the act of masculinity because that is what is expected of him and coming to terms that he doesn't have to be, maybe he doesn't have to force himself into that mould
♡ husband!satoru’s genes are just too strong ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
part 2
you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on your very obvious baby bump, the other clutching the newest ultrasound.
“i’m done,” you declare.
across the room, satoru pauses mid taking his shirt off. “done… with pregnancy? because i feel like that’s a little late.”
“with your genes,” you snap, glaring at the photo. “they’re ridiculous. actually unfair.”
he snorts, walking over. “nothing i can do about that, sweetheart.”
you shove the ultrasound toward him. “explain this.”
he looks at it, then at you. “…that is a baby.”
“that is you,” you correct immediately. “again. for the third time.”
he hums like he’s considering it. “we don’t know that.”
“we do,” you insist, growing more emotional by the second.
“we have two already, toru. two tiny versions of you running around with your face, your hair, your stupidly pretty eyes—what am i even contributing?!”
“everything?” he offers.
“no,” you shake your head, pouting. “i carried them for months. i’m carrying this one. i do all the work and your genes just— copy, paste, repeat!”
he tries— he really does— but a grin slips out anyway. “to be fair, it’s a very good face to copy—”
“satoru.”
“right. not the time.”
you huff, looking down at your stomach. the baby shifts faintly, and it only makes your emotional state worse. “i just… i want one that looks like me.”
that quiets him instantly.
he steps closer, slower this time, like approaching something fragile. kneeling in front of you, he gently takes your hand and places it more securely over your bump, covering it with his own.
“they are like you,” he says, softer now.
“they don’t look like me,” you mumble.
“they have your expressions. your attitude,” he replies. “the way they get emotional over the smallest things—”
“it’s not small!”
“—and the big things,” he corrects easily, a small smile tugging at his lips. “that’s all you.”
you hesitate, but your eyes are still shiny. “that’s not the same.”
“it is to me.” his thumb brushes under your eye, catching a tear before it falls. “and this one? might surprise us.”
“you said that last time.”
“okay, yeah,” he admits, “and i was wrong.. twice. but y’know— third time’s a charm.”
a reluctant laugh slips out of you.
“there she is,” he murmurs, leaning in until your foreheads touch. “besides… even if our baby comes out looking exactly like me—”
“she will.”
“—she’s still yours first,” he says gently. “you’re the one she hears, the one she feels. you’re home before she even opens her eyes.”
that makes your expression falter.
“…and,” he adds, grin returning just a little, “if we do end up with three mini me’s, i think that just proves you have excellent taste.”
you let out a shaky breath, then weakly smack his shoulder. “your genes are still stupid.”
“yeah,” satoru says easily, wrapping his arms around you and your bump, “but you married into the problem.”
you grumble, but melt into him anyway, his hand resting warm and steady over your stomach.
“…next one better look like me,” you mumble.
“personally, i do not mind if we keep trying.”
“and what— create a whole clan?” you huff.
“i mean—” you slap a hand on his mouth before he can continue.
𓏲 ࣪ ˖ type : one-shot (requested) fluff. michael x reader. tags : offthewall!michael. reader is bill’s daugther and know the jacksons. friends to lovers. mike is so cute and so jealous. 𓏲◞ michael doesn’t seems to enjoy the way his brothers flirt with you, especially when he’s to one who want to be yours…
it started with the long nights at the studio and the quiet afternoons at the jackson estate. being the daughter of someone as loyal as bill meant your life was naturally woven into theirs. while your father was busy ensuring the family’s safety and logistics, you were usually tucked away in a corner of the living room with a book, or more often than not, trailing behind michael.
you two had been inseparable since the move to la. you were the one person who didn’t want anything from him other than his company, and for michael, that was everything. you knew him before the world truly claimed him—before the glitter of the off the wall era really took flight. to you, he was just mike: the boy who loved magic tricks, old movies, and feeding the deer on the property.
the dynamic was always lively, to say the least. living—or at least spending most of your waking hours—around five brothers meant there was never a dull moment. but lately, the air felt different.
jermaine would always find a reason to lean against the doorframe when you walked by, flashing a slow, charming smile that lingered just a bit too long. jackie started making jokes about how "stunning" you were becoming, playfully nudging you whenever you sat down for dinner. marlon was constantly "accidentally" brushing his shoulder against yours or finding excuses to hold your hand while showing you a new dance step.
you, being as oblivious as you were loyal, just brushed it off as them being their usual, boisterous selves. they were like family, right?
michael saw it all. he watched from the shadows of the hallway, his fingers nervously drumming against his thigh. he knew his brothers' "tactics" better than anyone, and seeing them turn that charm on you made his chest tighten in a way he couldn't quite explain yet.
you were sitting on the edge of the fountain out front, waiting for your father to finish up a meeting, when michael finally stepped out. he didn't look like a global superstar in his simple corduroy trousers and a soft sweater, but his eyes held a weight you hadn't seen before.
"they're doing it again, you know," he murmured, sitting down beside you, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the splashing water.
"doing what, mike?" you asked, tilting your head.
he let out a soft, frustrated huff, looking at his shoes. "flirting with you. my brothers. they think they're being subtle, but they're not. and it's driving me crazy because they don't know you like i do."
you blinked, looking from michael back toward the house where the light was spilling out from the kitchen windows. you could see the shadows of his brothers moving around inside, laughing and jostling each other.
"mike, you’re overthinking it," you said softly, reaching out to pat his knee. "they’re just being playful. you know how they are—always joking, always trying to get a reaction. they don't mean anything by it. i'm just bill's daughter to them, the girl who’s always been around."
michael didn't look convinced. he shifted closer to you on the edge of the stone fountain, the sound of the water filling the silence between you. "it’s not just jokes, and you know it. when jermaine 'happens' to be in the hallway every time you leave the room, or when marlon tries to teach you those dance moves just so he can hold your waist... that’s not just being a family friend."
you laughed, a light sound that usually made him smile, but his expression stayed serious. "well, even if they are being a little extra lately, it doesn't matter. i don't see them that way at all. it’s actually kind of funny that you’re the one getting worked up about it. i’m fine, really. i can handle a few cheesy lines from jackie."
"i just don't like it," he muttered, his voice sounding small. he picked at a loose thread on his sweater, refusing to meet your eyes. "it feels different now. everything is changing so fast. the music, the move to la, the way people look at us... i just wanted one thing to stay the same. i wanted us to stay the same."
you tilted your head, trying to catch his gaze. "nothing is changing between us, mike. i'm still me, and you're still the only one i actually want to spend my afternoons with. who cares if your brothers are being flirty? they’ll get bored and move on to the next girl who actually falls for it."
michael finally looked up, his big brown eyes searching yours. he looked like he wanted to say something else—something much heavier—but he held it back. he just bit his lip and nodded slowly.
"i hope you're right," he whispered, though the way he was looking at you made it clear he didn't think his brothers were the only ones whose feelings were shifting. "just... be careful. they can be pretty persistent when they want something."
"i'll be fine, bodyguard jr.," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. "now come on, your dad is going to wonder where you disappeared to, and my father is probably looking for me to head home."
as you stood up to leave, you didn't notice the way michael lingered for a second, watching you walk away with a look of quiet longing that had absolutely nothing to do with being "just friends."
the next few days at the estate only made things more tense. every time you walked into a room, it felt like a spotlight followed you, and not the kind michael was used to.
you were in the kitchen helping make some tea when jermaine walked in, leaning against the counter much closer than necessary. "you know," he started, his voice smooth like silk, "i was thinking of heading out to that new club later this week. a girl like you shouldn't be stuck in this house all the time. you need to see the city lights."
you gave him a polite smile, moving to the other side of the island to grab some sugar. "thanks, jermaine, but you know i usually stay back with my dad or hang out with mike. i’m not really a club person."
"maybe you just haven't gone with the right person yet," he countered, flashing that practiced grin.
from the doorway, you heard a sharp throat-clear. michael was standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, looking uncharacteristically annoyed. "don't you have a rehearsal to get to, jermaine?"
jermaine just laughed, putting his hands up in mock surrender before strolling out, throwing you one last wink. as soon as he was gone, michael stepped into the kitchen, his energy practically buzzing with frustration.
"see?" he said, his voice low. "that wasn't 'just being friendly.' he’s trying to take you out."
"he was just being nice, mike! he thinks i'm bored," you argued softly, stirring the tea. "why are you so on edge lately? you're usually the calmest person i know."
michael grabbed a glass but didn't fill it with anything. he just held it, his knuckles turning slightly white. "because it’s everywhere. even marlon was asking me yesterday if i thought you had a boyfriend back in gary. they’re circling you like you’re... like you’re something they can just win."
you sighed, setting the spoon down and stepping closer to him. "hey. look at me. i’m not a prize, and i’m not interested. i’ve told you a hundred times, i’m here for my work and for our friendship. why does it bother you so much if they’re being silly?"
he looked down at you, the golden kitchen light catching the curls falling over his forehead. he looked like he wanted to scream it—to tell you exactly why it hurt to see them look at you—but he just tightened his jaw.
"it just bothers me because you deserve better than their games," he managed to say, though his eyes were saying something completely different. "i just want you to be respected."
"i am respected," you insisted, giving his arm a playful squeeze. "now stop being so moody. we’re supposed to listen to those new demos tonight, remember? just you and me. no brothers allowed."
a tiny, reluctant smile finally broke across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "just us," he repeated, the words sounding like a promise he was desperately trying to keep to himself. "i like the sound of that."
later that evening, the house had finally quieted down. the brothers had drifted off to different parts of the estate or gone out, leaving the recording room at the back of the house bathed in a dim, blueish light. the air smelled like expensive leather and the faint scent of the incense michael liked to burn when he was feeling creative.
michael was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed, listening to the raw track of a new song. you were perched right next to him, your shoulder brushing his every time you leaned in to check the lyrics written in his messy scrawl on the notepad between you.
"this part," you whispered, pointing to a line about dancing until the morning light. "it’s magic, mike. people are going to lose their minds when they hear this."
he opened his eyes and looked at you, a genuine, soft smile finally gracing his lips. for a moment, the tension from the kitchen was gone. "you really think so? i want it to feel like... like an escape. like nothing else in the world matters except the rhythm."
"it does," you assured him. "i can feel it."
the moment was perfect until the door swung open, and jackie walked in, still wearing his sunglasses even though it was night. "there she is," he joked, ignoring michael entirely and coming to sit on the other side of you. "i was wondering where you’d disappeared to. you’ve been hiding in here all night."
"we’re working, jackie," michael said, his voice clipped and cold.
jackie just chuckled, reaching over and playfully ruffling your hair. "working hard or hardly working? you know, i’m going for a drive tomorrow morning. thought you might want to come along, see the coast. get some fresh air away from mr. serious over here."
you felt michael stiffen beside you. his entire body went rigid. you quickly tried to smooth things over, giving jackie a small, awkward smile. "that’s sweet, jackie, but i promised mike i'd help him organize these tapes tomorrow. maybe another time?"
jackie shrugged, unfazed. "suit yourself. but the offer stands. you’re way too pretty to spend all your time in a dark room with dusty tapes." he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a theatrical stage whisper. "don't let him bore you to death, okay?"
once jackie finally left, the silence in the room felt heavy. michael didn't move. he just stared at the tape deck, his chest heaving slightly.
"mike?" you said softly, reaching out to touch his hand.
he pulled his hand away quickly, standing up and crossing the room to the window. "i can't do this," he muttered, his back to you. "i can't just sit here and watch them do it over and over again."
"he was just being jackie!" you stood up, feeling frustrated now. "why are you taking it so personally? i said no! i always say no. doesn't that tell you something?"
michael turned around, his face a mask of hurt and hidden anger. "no, it doesn't tell me enough! it tells me you’re nice and you’re loyal, but it doesn't stop them from trying. and it doesn't stop me from..." he choked off the words, shaking his head.
"from what?" you stepped closer, searching his face. "from what, michael?"
he looked like he was vibrating with the effort of holding it in. "from wishing i was the only one who had the right to be in your space. they treat it like a game, but for me... it’s not a game. it’s never been a game."
he looked away, his jaw tight. "forget it. let's just finish the demo."
the rest of the session was quiet—too quiet. michael kept his head down, focusing intensely on the soundboard, his fingers moving over the sliders with a precision that felt almost robotic. you sat back on the sofa, watching him, but for the first time in years, you weren't actually listening to the music.
you were replaying his words in your head. for me... it’s not a game. it’s never been a game.
was he just being protective? or was it something deeper? you started thinking back over the last few months. the way he’d always save the seat next to him for you. the way he’d remember the most random details about your childhood in gary. the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't looking—not with the flashy, confident smirk jermaine gave you, but with a sort of soft, aching vulnerability.
your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly felt very warm in the air-conditioned room.
"mike?" you whispered, your voice cracking just a little.
"yeah?" he didn't turn around. he was adjusting a dial that didn't really need adjusting.
"do you... do you really think i don't see what's happening? with everyone?" you stood up and walked over to him, stopping just a few feet away. "i mean, i know i act like it’s nothing, but... are you saying you think i should be taking it seriously?"
he finally let his hands drop from the board. he turned slowly, his face half-hidden in the shadows of the studio. "i'm saying that i don't like sharing your time with people who don't value you the way i do. they see a beautiful girl. i see... i see my everything."
he froze as soon as the words left his mouth. his eyes went wide, and he looked like he wanted to pull the air back into his lungs. you felt the world shift on its axis. everything. he didn't say "my friend." he didn't say "my sister."
"michael..." you breathed, taking a step closer.
the confusion that had been clouding your brain for weeks was starting to lift, replaced by a sudden, sharp realization. the reason you hadn't cared about jermaine's flirting or jackie's invitations wasn't because you were oblivious. it was because none of it felt real. none of it felt like this. the heat radiating off michael, the way his breath hitched when you got closer—this was real.
you reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and brushed your fingers against his wrist. his skin was burning.
"is that why you've been so upset?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the hum of the equipment. "not because of them... but because of you?"
michael looked down at your hand on his wrist, then back up at your eyes. the wall he’d built up all evening was crumbling. he didn't pull away this time. instead, he turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours, his grip tight and desperate.
"i’ve been trying so hard to be the 'good friend,'" he admitted, his voice trembling. "i didn't want to push you. i didn't want to be another jackson brother trying to move in on you. but watching them... it was killing me. because i’ve waited so long, and i was so scared that if i didn't speak up, one of them would eventually convince you."
you looked at your joined hands, then up at him, a small, realization-filled smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "michael, you're so literal sometimes. you really thought i’d choose a club date with jermaine over a night in the studio with you?"
he let out a shaky, nervous laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't know. i’m not as smooth as they are. i just have my music... and i have you. and i really, really don't want to lose the second one."
the air in the room felt different now—thicker, sweeter. you realized you were leaning in, and he was too. the distance between you was disappearing, and for the first time, you weren't thinking about bill, or the brothers, or the off the wall release. you were just thinking about the boy who had been your best friend, and how much you wanted him to be so much more.
the silence in the studio was no longer heavy; it was warm, like a soft blanket wrapped around the both of you. you could hear the faint, rhythmic ticking of the tape reels spinning in the background, but everything else had faded away.
michael’s thumb traced small, nervous circles over the back of your hand. he looked down at your joined fingers, a shy smile finally tugging at his lips—the kind of smile he usually reserved for his most private moments.
"you're really serious?" he whispered, his voice sounding breathless. "about them not standing a chance? i mean, jermaine... he’s got that look, and jackie... he’s got the car, and the—"
"michael joseph jackson," you interrupted, stepping into his personal space until your chest was inches from his. you looked up at him, your heart doing a frantic dance of its own. "stop listing your brothers. they aren't you. they don't look at the stars the way you do, and they definitely don't make me feel like... like this."
"like what?" he asked, his voice dropping to a velvety hush. he leaned down just a fraction, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips and back again.
"like i'm the only person in the world who matters," you admitted, your own voice trembling now. "you’ve been looking out for me since the day we moved here. you’re the one i want to talk to at 3:00 am, and you’re the only one whose opinion i actually care about. it was always you, mike. i think i was just too scared to admit it because i didn't want to lose my best friend."
michael let out a long, shaky breath, as if he’d been holding it for years. "you could never lose me," he promised. "i'm stuck to you like glue. my brothers are going to be so annoyed when they find out."
you giggled, the tension finally breaking. "oh, they’re going to be unbearable. jermaine is going to try to give you 'advice' and marlon is going to tease us for the next ten years."
"let them," michael said, his confidence suddenly returning now that he knew where you stood. he reached up with his free hand, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your knees weak. his touch was light, but his gaze was intense. "let them talk. they can have the clubs and the cars. as long as i have this."
he didn't kiss you yet—it was michael, after all, and he lived for the quiet, soulful build-up—but he leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. you could feel the warmth of his skin and the rapid beat of his heart through his sweater.
"just promise me one thing," he murmured, his eyes closing as he breathed in your scent.
"anything," you replied.
"don't tell bill yet," he joked, a hint of his old mischievous self peaking through. "i don't think your dad is ready to see me as anything other than the kid who follows you around."
you laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling more at home than you ever had in the giant mansion. "deal. but you’re going to have to be a better actor, mike. because the way you’re looking at me right now? the whole world is going to know."
he just hummed in response, pulling you into a proper hug, his arms locking around your waist as he pulled you tight against him. for the first time in weeks, the jealousy was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady glow that felt like the beginning of a whole new era.
ughhh i love when michael is a shy cutie patootie who is crazy in love and jealous 🥹 my bbg frr !! xoxo
Summary: After leaving your boyfriend some little notes of love in his lunchbox, you became very famous throughout the night shift. But you didn't know this until you had to step into the ER trying to give Jack his forgotten lunchbox.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.
Thanks to the anon who requested a part 2 for Little Notes of Love and illuminated my brain because this little fic wasn't meant to have a part 2.
Hope you guys love it just as much as the first part.
(Sorry that this took me more time than I planned to 🙃)
The ER wasn't a place you liked. Really, you didn't enjoy being at a hospital. Ironic, since your boyfriend is an ER doctor. There is nothing specific for you to dislike about the place, it's just a hospital, and no one really likes being there. But this time, you drove voluntarily to the place all because Jack forgot his lunchbox, and your concern about the rare times your boyfriend gets to eat at his job is more important than your dislike for the hospital.
You don't really know where to get in. You're not a patient, and you're afraid that the lady at the desk would not let you in, so even if you're a little embarrassed, you get in through the ambulance bay. Your plan is not to stay too long and to bother people as little as possible. It's a very busy place, and you don't want to get in anyone's way.
You stand near the place where a desk is (the nurse station), trying to find Jack through all the people moving from one side to another so quickly that you could get dizzy.
Someone taps your shoulder, making you turn around.
“Ma’am, is everything okay? You should go through the desk at the front door.”
She said calmly with tired eyes, but she still gave you a small smile. By Jack's description, you think it's Dr. Ellis.
You smile at her, letting out a relieved sigh.
“I’m not a patient, I'm fine,” you assure her. You lift the gray lunchbox in your hand, and by the expression she makes, you think she recognizes it. “I’m looking for my boyfriend, he's an attending here,” you explain to her.
“So you are the mysterious Lady Notes, huh?” she said, smiling widely, her eyes suddenly bright with interest.
Your cheeks burn because you never thought that Jack would show them the notes, or that they would see them.
“Guess I am,” you said, telling her your actual name, but something tells you that you're stuck with Lady Notes.
“I’m Dr. Parker Ellis,” she introduced herself by shaking your hand. “Follow me.”
You do. She guides you through the nurse station toward a nurse who looks like she is in charge, and by the look she gives you above her reading glasses and Jack's description, you think she's Lena. By her side, there is a tall man who looks completely relaxed and not even bothered by the rush of the ED.
“Look who finally visited us,” Parker said, too excited.
You stay a few steps behind, a little embarrassed by the attention the three of them give you, and again, they seem to recognize you the moment they see the gray lunchbox in your hands.
Lena gives you a full smile, looking really excited, while Shen just says:
“You are Mysterious Lady Notes?” he asked, taking a sip from his Dunkin' coffee, looking as surprised as he could.
Lena gave him a look that made him shrug.
“You are beautiful, hon,” she said, walking toward you. “I’m Lena, the charge nurse from the night shift.” She smiles at you, and you give her your best smile as you introduce yourself to her.
“I don't want to disturb you or anyone. Jack forgot his lunchbox, so I thought I'd stop by and give it to him,” you explain.
“You don't disturb anyone. We all have been waiting to meet the woman who has softened Abbott.”
And you can clearly see that because of how excited the three of them seem at your presence, and their reactions attract more people.
“I thought Jack was having hallucinations when he said he would take five minutes to eat the lunch his girlfriend made for him,” Shen told you from where he was standing a few steps back from Lena. He had been talking about something with Parker before. “I’m Dr. Shen.”
You tell your name again, giggling at his comment.
You told yourself it was going to be a quick visit: give Jack his lunchbox, a kiss, and then head back to your apartment to sleep. But twenty minutes later, you have said your name more times than in your entire life, introducing yourself to anyone who tells you, “You're the mysterious Lady Notes.” You get to know Nurse Mateo, Dr. Henderson, the student Nazly, Nurse Vivi, and you think that by that point, you have met everyone who works there.
“What is happening here?” a well-known voice cut through the crowd surrounding the nurse station.
Jack stood there waiting for an explanation when his eyes met yours, and realization quickly hit him.
“Okay, you guys, stop overwhelming my missus.” He walked toward you, placing himself by your side and resting one of his hands on your lower back as usual.
“I don't think you get to call her missus if you haven't married her yet,” Mateo said playfully, pointing to your bare ring finger.
Jack looks at the nurse, narrowing his eyes, and points at him.
“Careful, or you'll spend the rest of the night with the bad cases,” he warns while the rest of the people laugh.
“He’s right, Abbott. I have no idea how you haven't put a ring on that finger already,” Parker says, raising both eyebrows.
If your cheeks were warm before, now your face was burning hot. All the eyes were on the two of you, and everyone was supporting Ellis and Mateo's thoughts.
“Okay, okay, all of you, leave them alone. Go back to your jobs. There are sick people who need you all,” Lena commands with a tone of voice that actually scares you, and it is a warning for everyone because they all say goodbye to you and go back to work as soon as they can.
Jack guides you to an empty room. Your face is hot, but the wide smile is something nobody could get rid of no matter what they said.
“So I'm the mysterious Lady Notes,” you said, giggling.
He looks at you in that intense way that only he is able to do, that hazel gaze that makes your legs tremble like jelly and your heart race so hard that you can hear it in your ears.
He huffed, rolling his eyes at your words.
“They insisted on calling you that until they knew you,” he mumbled, trying to look irritated but failing because of the smile growing on his face.
His hands go instinctively to your waist, and your arms settle around his neck. There is not an inch separating the two of you. You brush your nose against his, which finally makes him give you that crooked smile you love so much.
Jack didn't wait. He kissed you, not caring that anyone could walk in and catch you.
“You forgot your lunchbox,” you said through the kiss.
He breaks the kiss but rests his forehead against yours.
“And you brought it to me instead of going to sleep when you have to work early,” he whispered in disbelief.
“Your shift is long. You need to eat, and I don't trust the vending machine,” you said as if it wasn't a point of comparison, and just imagining him eating something from the vending machine felt like a betrayal.
He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh.
“I love you.” He leaves a kiss on your temple and another on your cheek.
“I love you too,” you respond, leaving a short kiss on his lips.
You wanted to stay a little longer, but you saw that the ER was full and that you had already attracted too much attention and distracted several people. You didn't want to take up too much of the chief attending's time.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” You leave the lunchbox in his hands and another kiss on his lips. “Eat something,” you said, pointing at him with your index finger like a threat.
He just smiles at you.
“I will. See you in the morning.” He watches you disappear through the door.
He's quick to open the lunchbox, finding just what he wanted: a little Post-it note. It was white, and written on it was:
“Lovely grumpy doctor, if you ever forget your lunchbox again, you will be temporarily banned from these masterpieces that I put my heart into.
(I’m being very serious, please don't forget to eat like you forgot your lunchbox.)
Should I be worried about memory problems? They are very common at your age.
Your beautiful girlfriend ;)”
He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.
That one was going to his locker.
Jack keeps the Post-it in his scrub pocket after reading it a few more times before Parker finds him and tells him that they have an incoming trauma. She also tries to see what the note says, but he makes sure to hide it from her view.
It was just for him.
After the trauma and doing some rounds, he finally has time to sit and do some charts. But peace was something that never happened in the ER, and definitely after your visit, he would know no peace for a while.
“What?” he asked Lena, who was looking at him above her reading glasses.
She gives him a look that Jack completely ignores.
“What are you waiting for?” she said as if it were obvious. “She deserves that damn rock on her finger.” It was more of an order than a suggestion.
Jack goes back to his chart, but the last thing he was thinking about was the patient. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, but it had only been a year and a half since the two of you started officially dating. He didn't want to scare you. Even though you didn't seem bothered by the comments his co-workers made, maybe you thought they were just kidding and trying to bother him.
There was nothing that he would like more than to call you his wife, Mrs. Abbott, seeing you stop signing your notes with “girlfriend” and replacing it with “your wife,” the title you deserve because there was nothing in that life that would make Jack let you go.
You were stuck with him for the rest of your life. What better way than to make it official?
Since your visit to the ER, your discomfort with the hospital has faded, and you have visited more often, dropping Jack off and picking him up, always making a little entrance to say hello and gossip a little with Lena, Ellis, and Shen.
Now you make sure to pack Jack more food than before and tell him specifically which bowls are for each nightcrawler: the dark blue one for Mateo, the red one for Parker, the green one for Shen, and so on with the rest of the crew.
He complains, telling you that you are spoiling them. But deep inside, he loves how you worry about all of them, so he gives them all the bowls, threatening that if they don't return them empty at the end of their shift, they will be stuck at triage for an entire week.
But something that keeps staying on his mind, and that everyone keeps telling him, even Dana and Robby, is about the ring that is missing from your finger.
It doesn't sound like a rushed step if everyone keeps telling him that he's been taking a long time.
I have to admit I was smiling like an idiot while writing this 😽
