first time she pointed out the townhouse, jack didn't think much of it. he hummed in response, holding onto her smaller hand even tighter as a biker was passing them on the sidewalk.
they were walking back from their favorite coffee shop, paper cups warming their hands against the chilly pittsburgh morning.
she'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring across the street with that dreamy look she got whenever something captured her attention.
"ugh.” she swooned. “that's my favorite house," she'd said.
jack had followed her gaze.
it was a beautiful townhouse. it was about three stories of brick and black shutters with overflowing flower boxes beneath the windows. it was elegant without being flashy. it was lived-in without looking old.
he'd hummed his acknowledgment and continued walking.
that should have been the end of it.
but it wasn't.
because the next week she pointed it out again.
and the week after that… and the one after.
soon it became part of their routine.
coffee, pastries, the townhouse.
every single saturday morning and every single time they passed it, her pace slowed.
sometimes she'd admire the little balcony on the second floor, or the iron railings, even the huge windows that flooded the interior with sunlight. and other times she would just smile at it quietly before continuing down the block.
jack never teased her about it.
he just listened the way he always listened.
collecting and gathering every detail she offered without her realizing it.
it was like he was storing them away somewhere safe.
—
months later, she was standing in front of the pastry display at the coffee shop when jack casually mentioned the open house.
she looked up immediately.
"what.. really?" she said in disbelief. “i didn’t see a sign, though. are you sure?” she said in the middle of taking a bite of her banana loaf.
"yeah they’re showing the townhouse today.” he repeated with that signature sideways smile. “it’s a private showing.” he shrugged.
the excitement that lit her face was instant and for a moment, jack almost felt guilty because she had absolutely no idea…
when they arrived, the house was somehow even more beautiful inside.
sunlight spilled through oversized windows, warming polished hardwood floors and pale walls.
the entire place felt bright, open and comfortable.
it was a place that people built lives together and they could feel the warmth of a loved and cherished home.
jack spent most of the tour watching her instead of the house.
watching her wander into every room with wide eyes, watching her run her fingertips along the bathroom countertops.
watching her stand in front of windows and imagine things.
he knew she was imagining things because she'd always done that. her imagination was everything that made her into the dreamer that she was.
even in their tiny conversations, or while walking down the street.
she saw dreams everywhere and a beautifully bright future in every empty space.
"this kitchen is incredible." she mused, as she rounded the kitchen island and peered out the windows that rested right above the kitchen sink.
her voice echoed softly through the room as jack leaned against the doorway.
her shoulders sank as she peered into the lush backyard garden.
"It is." he said as he watched her in quiet awe.
she moved toward one of the windows, sunlight caught her hair. the sight of her standing there nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
because she looked like she belonged there.. with him. he nearly groaned at the sight of her. her hair falling behind her shoulders while she playfully pretended to wash the dishes.
he smiled wildly as she looked behind her at him and wiggled her eyebrows, causing them both to giggle.
it looked like she wasn’t visiting.
or imagining.
she was just belonging.
as if the house had been waiting for her this whole entire time.
the realtor eventually left them alone to explore.
that was when the trouble started.
because the more she saw, the more she fell in love with it.
and the more she fell in love with it, the more impossible it became for her to hide her disappointment.
by the time they reached the living room again, she was trying very hard to be realistic.
jack knew that look it was the one where she talked herself out of wanting something.
“it's okay," she said softly.
nobody had even asked a question.
jack raised an eyebrow as she laughed a little sadly.
"this place is just..." her gaze drifted toward the windows.
the fireplace.
the staircase.
everything.
"it's perfect." she hummed as jack placed his hand on the back of her small back. her words came out as barely more than a whisper as she looked up at him.
jack felt something squeeze painfully inside his chest.
because she wasn't being dramatic.
or materialistic, or unrealistic, she just genuinely loved this place.
the same way she loved old bookstores and small coffee shops and rainy afternoons cuddled with a good book.
she loved things completely, with her whole heart.
"a girl can dream, right?" she said softly to him. her smile small.
jack stared at her for a long moment— long enough that she did a double take when she wanted to pull him out and go back home.
"w-what?" she looked at him in confusion.
his hands slipped into his pockets, a nervous habit which was one she rarely ever saw.
then he nodded toward the room around them.
"good thing you don't have to." he nodded earnestly.
confusion flickered across her face. she laughed his name, "what are you talking about?"
"you don't have to dream about it, baby."
the silence that followed stretched before he finally said it.
"i bought it."
she blinked…once…twice.
the words clearly didn't fully register and he wanted to kiss her stupid as she gave him a look of pure confusion.
"i bought the townhouse, baby.” he said stalking closer to her, his shoes echoing throughout the room.
still nothing.
her mouth opened slightly.
closed it.
opened again.
jack fought back a smile because for someone so smart, she looked completely lost.
"you..." her voice disappeared.
jack nodded trying to get it out of her.
"i bought it." he said cocooning her into his arms as if to block her away from the rest of the world.
another heartbeat passed.
then another.
finally her eyes widened.
not a little.
a lot.
the kind of realization that arrives all at once. it was sudden and overwhelming and her heart was beating so fast she could have sworn that he could hear it.
"f-for us?" the question cracked in the middle.
jack's expression softened immediately.
"yeah." his voice was gentle, “so we can have somewhere that's ours."
the tears arrived instantly.
jack sighed.
because of course they did.
she slapped both hands over her face.
which somehow made it worse.
"sweetheart—"
"you bought me a house?”
his laugh filled the room. "i bought us a house."
"a whole house, jack."
"technically it's a townhouse." he teased causing her to let out a watery laugh.
then immediately started crying harder.
“i want you to decorate it however you want and i’m gonna help you.” he said softly, moving her hair behind her shoulders as she looked up at him. “we’re gonna make it ours.”
the next thing jack knew, she was throwing her arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong arms around her small frame.
of course he caught her automatically.
strong freckled arms wrapping around her waist as she buried her face against his chest.
the familiar scent of coffee and aftershave surrounded her instantly.
safe, comforting, home.
kack rested his chin on top of her head, holding her tightly. neither of them spoke for a while.
they just stood there in the middle of their future living room as the sunlight poured in around them.
the house quiet and waiting.
finally she tilted her head back enough to look at him.
her eyes were red and her cheeks damp.
beautiful.
"you remembered." the words were tiny they made jack frown.
"remembered what?" he wanted to know, as he wiped his thumb against her wet cheeks.
she laughed softly. "the windows."
his expression immediately melted because of course that's what she was talking about.
not the price, or the size and not even the investment of it all.
the windows.
the thing she'd mentioned months ago during a random walk.
"the balcony." her voice trembled.
"the flower boxes."
jack brushed his thumb against her bottom lip as it quivered.
"i remember everything you tell me." he mused.
and judging by the way her face crumpled, that might have been the most emotional thing he'd said all day.
—
later, after the realtor returned and paperwork was discussed and the reality of it all slowly settled around them, they found themselves standing on the little front patio.
the one she'd always admired and pointed out dozens of times.
jack handed her the key, simple and unassuming. yet somehow heavier than anything she'd ever held before.
she stared at it in her palm, then up at him, then back at the house.
their house. their future.
their home.
jack leaned down and kissed her forehead softly before giving her the smile that destroyed her every single time because it was the kind of smile he reserved only for her.
"what do you say we go back and start to unpack" he hummed.
and this time, when she looked at the townhouse, she didn't have to imagine anymore.
synopsis jack really wants to take care of you, you're really not used to that feeling, but when an accident has you in harms way and rattles jack more than you, you have little choice but to accept how he feels about you. (I want to take care of you- it's rotten work- not to me, not if its you) type.
warnings, fluff and angst but with a happy ending. guns. insecure reader. reader is described with hair long enough to braid. insecure reader. angst with happy ending . younger reader though not a massive plot point. miscommunication/misunderstanding
authorsnote uncle pee-paw i'm growing very fond of you. sometimes i get so in my head about how things preform on tumblr and i completely forget that fanfic is so self indulgent so as long as i'm happy with it but i'm so happy with the love these pitt fics are getting they really do mean a lot
Pitt masterlist. Jack Abbot fic!
“ You need a ride? ”
When you'd called Jack to tell him you were going to be late into your night shift because the buses you relied so heavily on to get you to and from work weren't running due to some strikes or something, you really were only calling to let him know you'd be late. Not to subtly ask for him to give you a ride.
“No- no. I just didn't want you to think I was not turning up, I'll be there.”
“ What's your address again? ”
“It doesn't matter, I'm walking- running- running in,” you said breathless down your phone, busy stuffing your bag with whatever you'd need, none of which was food for the shift. You'd recently ran out of the energy bars Jack had recommended.
Everyday you said you'd prepare something nice, some risotto or something and take it in. Every morning you collapsed from exhaustion and ran out of time to make anything that resembled a 'meal'.
“ I've got it here, I'll be around in ten, ” Jack said.
Your bag slid down your shoulder as you paused. “Got it? Got what?”
“ Your address. ”
“How do you have my address?”
He chuckled down the line. “ Remember I ubered food to yours, two weeks ago? You've probably still got leftovers in your fridge. ”
Ah. You remembered. One of those times you let slip your terrible routine and he sort to fix it, sending you over prepped meals that- he was right- were still littered around your fridge.
“Right, yes. You should delete that.”
“ Comes in handy, sometimes. In emergencies, ” he said. “ I'll pick you up in ten, bye. ”
There was no time to argue as the call ended promptly after that.
Jack Abbot was a caring man. Something you were learning the hard way. You knew he'd given Ellis his spare room when she was evicted from her apartment, he'd even let her re-decorate, got her fresh blankets and sheets. You knew that Shen's favourites snacks were always stocked up in the lounge. You always knew that he was first to spot Lena getting tired and was always there with a coffee.
It was just like you knew he knew all those little things about you too.
He knew when your bus got in across from PCMT, always there to escort you over the road and back again at the end of the shift. No matter how long or gruelling it had been he would wait with you, rain or sun. He knew you had a bad sleeping habit so he told you herbal remedies in teas and even brought some for you. Annoyingly they worked and every time you had one you were forced to think of Jack.
You knew that if he said he was picking you up- he was.
There was nothing wrong with his affection.
You just didn't know what to do with it.
The night shift was still new to you. You'd only joined since their nights had gotten wilder, even too wild for the 'weirdest and wildest' to handle so you'd made the swap six months ago to help out. You were used to Robby's ways of doing things: of his careful watch over his residents with happy thumbs up or disapproving shakes of his head.
Jack trusted in his residents to take care of patients, but didn't when it came to themselves.
You rushed around, finding your pens and stethoscope and phone that you'd just put down for a second. Soon enough Jack had texted saying he was coming up (he somehow already had the code to your apartment complex).
His knuckles rattled softly and you rushed to grab the last of your things, including a book marked with 'Abbot, J' that you had yet to get round to reading.
“Hi,” you greeted.
You'd expected he'd come up just to be a gentleman, figuring the two of you would just head back down.
Jack squeezed by your attempt at baring him from your place and walked into your small and cramped apartment. “Hey.”
You tried not to be surprised, shutting the door behind him. “I've got everything, we- we can go.”
“I jussss wanna check-” the kitchen was just to the right and he opened your fridge door, grinning. “I was right. Still got the leftovers.”
There were many containers stacked, some full, others emptying. All marked in his handwriting from his meal prep he shared with you.
“Yeah, I haven't got round to sorting it,” you said. “Sorry, I didn't get around to eating everything. It's really good though.”
Jack smiled, reaching into your fridge like it was his own. “Hey, I made you a lot, didn't expect you to eat everything. Just wanted to make sure you had a choice. Did you like the Linguini? I tried a new recipe.”
Jack moved around your kitchen like he'd been living in your space forever. He was confident as he re-arranged your food, throwing what had gone out of date away and washing his hands in your sink, taking a towel hanging up by a cupboard like he knew it was there and drying.
“Er, yeah, it was nice, we can go, you know,” you said.
“You started reading it?” Jack asked, gesturing down to the book in your hands. “What do you think of it?”
“Oh, er, no. I haven't had the chance to start it. I was gonna give it back to you,” you said.
Jack shrugged. “It's yours, keep it.”
It was not yours. It was his. It was one of his favourites if the several dog-eared pages and annotations were anything to go by. It was a title he'd recommended to you and handed you a month ago but you'd only managed to flick through and get a vague understanding of the characters names only.
“But I mean- I don't know when I'll get round to reading it,” you said, loitering outside your kitchen.
“It's okay, I've read it a thousand times, keep it till you do.”
Wasn't he worried you may never get round to reading it and he might not ever get it back?, if your forgetful memory was anything to go by.
Jack finally abandoned your kitchen, passing by you. “Shall we?”
“Thanks for the lift. You really didn't have to,” you said as you left your apartment building, the sky already darkening and where others came in from their long days of work, yours was only just beginning.
“It's on my way,” he shrugged.
“It's out of your way,” you pointed out, knowing Jack was a complete different way to PCMT then you.
You saw his eyes roll as he opened the passenger door for you, nodding for you to get in.
“Just take the lift.”
“Thank you.”
“Word is you and Abbot arrived together,” said Dana.
You groaned.
There was a lot to like about the night shifts. It felt more of a team work than day did sometimes, you loved working with everyone just as much as you did day and you liked how still it got in the night sometimes. But you missed Dana who watched out for you like a mama bear. Still, she made time to always check in with you before she headed out.
Her jean jacket was thrown over her shoulders, her hair pinned back neater and keys in hand but she still greeted you like it was the start of the day.
“He gave me a lift, the buses are on strike.”
She smirked. “Nice of him.”
“I've told him not to do it again.”
“Oh yeah, how'd he take that?”
He'd shook his head and laughed, constantly brushing off every thanks you made and offer of any aid you could give. He seemed wholly un-bothered by the inconvenience you'd caused.
“Jack's a good guy,” said Dana.
“That he is.”
“You deserve someone like him.”
You weren't sure where Dana got that idea. You also didn't know why you couldn't believe her. Why every time Jack turned up when things were going bad, or why every time he showed he cared you felt scared.
And you'd never really had the time to un-pack that.
You looked up to Dana, folding your arms over on the counter. “And what about what he wants?”
“Well for that you'll have to ask him,” she said with the all knowing look in her eyes. Her hand was gentle on your shoulder as she squeezed. “I'll see you in the morning.”
“Night.”
You thought you'd have a chance to view the patient charts that were swapped over to night shift but Jack was next, standing in Dana's space.
“What did mamma bear have to say?” he asked.
“Oh you know, the usual,” you said. “Trying to give me life advice that I won't follow.”
He huffed a chuckle. “I could've told her that, saved her the time.”
“I listen to your advice-”
He levelled his gaze onto yours.
“- I try to.”
His brows rose up. “You brought anything in for food tonight?”
You were about to answer, ready to prove him wrong, finally.
Jack interrupted you. “Anything other than that caramel coffee you like?”
He could read you like a book. You don't know how he found the time to know so much about you, to observe such things you wouldn't even notice unless he pointed them out.
Your silence was an answer.
“I brought extra, we'll have it later.”
He said it so confidently, leaving little space for any arguing on your end.
“Will we?”
“Yeah,” he said, stretching out on the counter. “I'm thinking a midnight picnic, trauma two? Might even get lucky with a GSW as company.”
You laughed and when you looked at Jack he was smiling. It was a soft kind, the sort that smoothed his face and made him seem younger and lighter. The kind that you took home with you and re-played as you fell asleep slowly.
You would never admit how long Jack spends in your mind. Somehow it felt like he already knew.
“You, um, you didn't braid your hair today,” said Jack, straightening up and drumming his knuckles on the counter. His gaze only faltered on yours for a second.
This was something you knew you did, carefully creating a routine for washing your hair that meant you didn't have to do it every day after work. Enough baby powder or dry shampoo meant you could get away with two washes at best.
“No, I guess I didn't.”
“It's gonna annoy you, being in your face all day.”
“I'm sure I'll manage.”
Jack didn't listen. He picked up your wrist- the one you kept a hair tie around- and slid it onto his own before going behind you.
“Jack, what are you doing?” you asked.
“Helping you.”
“You don't have to, I'll shove it up.”
Jack grumbled. “Let me work.”
His fingers grazed your neck as he brushed back your hair, the callouses on his hands rough against you, eliciting some sort of warmth in your body. Thankfully he was behind you and couldn't see the blush absolutely coming to your cheeks.
Jack took care of those around him, but he'd never touched anyone else's hair, never stood in the middle of the nurses station where all could see to braid someone's hair.
You felt him work, the weight of his gaze on the back of your head and his fingers moving through your hair like a cool summer evening breeze.
Across the way, Lena peered over her glasses at you with a smile.
“Lena's staring,” you said, unable to focus on any work till Jack's fingers were out of your hair.
Jack hummed. You knew that concentration from the amount of times you've seen him focused. “Lena always stares.”
You noticed Crus and Matteo passing by, both watching and pointing. You were sure Crus made some obscene make-out gesture and only hoped Jack didn't see. You were sure, if anyone else had asked he'd have done the same.
Though you hadn't technically asked.
“I'm sure you have far more important things to do than braid my hair, Abbot.” The lights in the Pitt seemed brighter, burning down on you like spotlights.
“Nothing more important right now.”
Your neck stretched as Jack pulled at your hair lightly to get it all in place. Curiosity ate at you, wondering where he'd done this before but the idea of knowing- like you had any right to- shut you up before you could speak.
Eventually he finished and his hands fell on your shoulders.
“There. Ready to be a hero?” he asked, spinning you around to him.
Your feet scuffed along the floor. “What? Am I the Robin to your batman?”
His lips quirked up and he moved his head side to side like weighing up his options. “More like the Lois to my Super-man.”
You sadly weren't versed enough in comic to know if that was a good or bad thing.
Jack was attending to a young girl when you walked in. Honestly it was starting to get comical how you turned up around him or he you. Some would call it magnets and as you met Jacks gaze as you stepped in you knew the ‘people’ meant Jack.
He looked at you, taking a quick note of the fact you still had your braid in even hours into the night. Jack smiled.
“Miss mermaid this is who I was telling you about,” said Jack.
The young girl- maybe five, maybe six- looked up at you as Jack slowly pulled at the thread bringing the skin of her knee together.
The chart had told you she'd taken a nasty fall on the playground and her teacher had brought her in, still trying to get in contact with the parents while Jack kept her company, cleaning her scraped knees and the gash just below.
“Hello,” the little girl waved. There wasn't even any tear marks on her cheeks but there was a small mark of blood at her little lip and her hair was falling out around her face.
“Hello miss mermaid,” you greeted, realising quickly the name came from her little mermaid top she wore.
“We were just talking about you,” said Jack, glancing quickly at you.
You blushed, wondering what Jack had to say about you to a small child. “Oh?”
“You and Crus played mermaids that time at the beach, remember?”
The girl giggled and Jack smiled over her shoulder at you.
“It wasn't- it wasn't mermades,” you excused.
That day was one of sweltering heat and lingering gazes. The night shift had took a trip to the beach on one of the hottest days of the year, enjoying the day for the day-shifters that couldn't. You'd gotten a lift with Matteo who'd brough Victoria Javadi along as she had the day off anyhow.
There was sand in places you didn't know sand could get, beach balls that somehow were pierced before you could even blow them up and gazes shared with Jack.
Maybe it was the bikini you wore that was so different from the scrubs. Maybe it was the fact Jack was un-characteristically insecure about his prosthetic leg being exposed to all and you'd told him nobody cared, that everybody cared more that he couldn't enjoy himself. Something had changed that day, settling in you like a pebble at the bottom of a lake thrown from a great height.
Since then, you and Jack had never looked at each other the same way.
But you and Crus hadn't been playing mermaids.... exactly. You swam around a lot and sort to collect more sea shells than the other. You just didn't call it mermaids.
“Will I be able to play mermaids again?” asked the little girl brushing hair out of her face with clumsy hands.
“Absolutely,” said Jack with great enthusiasm.
“And run faster than all the boys in my class?”
Jack chuckled, so did you. “Of course, but you'll have to rest up first.”
“Give the boys a chance to catch up, huh?” you suggested, plucking a leaf out of her hair.
“I like running fast,” she said.
Jack worked on the stitching, back to concentrating.
You sat down on the other side of the bed, gently reaching over to pluck bits of leaf and dirt from her hair. “So do I but sometimes we got to take things slow to not get hurt.”
You hadn't realised the meanings of the words until Jack halted his movements, glancing at you.
So you supposed there was a double meaning.
Jack's gaze was heavy.
“Tell you what, miss mermaid, Doctor Abbot here is better at braiding hair than he is stitches,” you said after a clear of your throat.
“Rude,” Jack mumbled.
It took a little convincing but you managed to swap places with Jack, gloving up and taking the tread he'd started at. He took your space on the bed and gently worked the child's hair into something neat while you carried on her stitches, close enough to being finished.
The both of you worked in silence as you each concentrated on your separate endeavours. All the while the young girl sat in between you hummed to herself, some Disney song.
“That's my favourite,” said Jack half way through when he must have realised what song she was humming.
You were still trying to understand it when part way through they changed to 'Under the sea'. You had to all but hold her leg from swinging as she sang loudly, causing you to laugh.
“Why not singing?” asked the girl.
“Yeah, why not singing?” Jack asked
You shook your head. “I don't know the song.”
Jack made a 'pfft' sound like he didn't believe you and 'little miss mermaid' did the same, blowing a raspberry.
Eventually you finished up the stitching, coincidently the same time Jack finished with his braiding.
A nurse- Bridget- walked in with the young girls teacher, eying the two of you between her. “You braiding Matteo's hair next?” she teased with a glint of wicked amusement in her eyes.
Jack moved up from the bed just as you also stood, discarding of the tools you'd used. “Only if he asks nicely.”
“Her parents have been informed they're on their way,” said the girls teacher.
“Perfect,” said Jack, holding either end of his stethoscope slung around his neck. “We are going to leave you in the very capable hands of Bridget who knows many more Disney songs than we do. Don't go without giving me another song.”
The girl laughed, her new braid slung over her shoulder. “I won't.”
Jack smiled and held the door open for you as you left with a small wave and him trailing behind you.
Lena was at the nurses station, answering calls and dishing out work while others walked around the two of you, busy with their own nights that existed by itself in the Pitt.
You hadn't realised you and Jack were heading for the break room till his arm stretched out and he pushed the door open over you.
“Are you really telling me you didn't know the song she was singing?” he asked.
“Of course I knew the song. I wasn't going to sing and embarrass myself,” you said, pulling out the mug you always used and Jack's favourite, finding the coffee pot newly brewed.
“Like I'm any Phil Collins,” scoffed Jack as he pulled out two containers from the fridge.
You frowned, sitting at the table. “Who?”
Jack looked at you, swinging the door shut. His brows rose high, crinkling his forehead. “Phil Collins? Turn it out again.... In the air tonight... The music on Tarzan?”
“Is he the dad of Lily Collins?”
Jack slid into the seat across from you. “Who?” He passed you over a full container of some sort of quinoa. It wasn't just left overs, it was a carefully calculated portion to match his.
You stared down at it like you were trying to decide if it was poisoned while Jack had already had a spoonful of his own.
It felt strange, to be sitting in a secluded room of the chaos and eating with him. Though at work, it felt oddly domestic. It felt- annoyingly- like the right thing to do. You wanted to eat from his container and wash it, hand it back to him. You wanted to know where he kept all his Tupperware, the kind that fell from cupboards at every open of the door.
“You cooking for me now?”
Jack shrugged, not meeting your gaze. “It's quinoa. Hardly cooking.”
You took a careful spoon.
Like he'd been discreetly watching as soon as you swallowed he spoke.
“You like it?”
“It tastes... kind of...”
“Healthy?”
You looked at him, feigned aghast.
Jack smirked, jaw working as he ate his food. “Come on, if it weren't for me you'd still be living on pizza's and take aways. At least this way you save a couple bucks and eat good. For a doctor you should know how important that is.”
“What are you so worried about what I eat for?” you mumbled, more wondering to yourself.
“I like to take care of you.”
He admitted it softly, a slight shrug to his shoulders like it was nothing. Like looking after you, a simple colleague- maybe a friend if you were lucky enough- was a simple feat. As if you didn't struggle to take care of yourself. Jack worked the same shifts, even more as an attending and cooked for himself, did yoga in mornings and even went out as a SWAT team member.
“Why?” You pushed the grains around in the tub.
“Why what?” he asked.
Daring to glance at him, you found Jack looking at you, arms rested on the table, his freckled biceps pulling at his scrub top.
You shook your head, taking another spoon of the food.
Any other time some emergency would be called to save you. Nothing as such when you really needed it. Of course you were glad nobody was being rushed in hurt... but still.
“Why do I like looking after you?” Jack repeated. “Because it's you.”
At that, you smiled. Not through happiness, more sympathy. “Because I can't look after myself?”
You knew you slept a lot, didn't take as good care of yourself as you could have. There were healthy and easy meal ideas sat in a folder in your phone, gathering dust. There was always laundry in a pile, dirty and clean, to go to their respective homes. There were friends waiting to make arrangements you never got around to making. You weren't easy but you didn't think you were so bad someone else had to come in and save you.
Jack paused, his face falling. “That's not what I meant.”
“Sure it is, you can admit it,” you shrugged, the food he's kindly shared turned to ash in your mouth. “I know I might seem like a mess to you, to someone so put together and... older, but I really do have my life managed. You don't have to add me to your to do list.”
“Woah, woah, woah, I never said that. That's not what I meant at all.”
You laughed. It felt better than feeling so embarrassed. “It's okay-”
“- no, no, that's not what's supposed to be going on, I... ”
Jack cared for people, you knew that. It was just apart of himself.
So you were almost distraught inside when you realised he didn't like you anymore than Shen or Ellis. He just looked out for you cause it was something he had to do.
“I'm not actually very hungry right now,” you said, pushing the lid back on and leaving it for him.
Jack was just as quick as you were to his feet. “No, no, wait- wait, hey-”
His pushed the door closed as you only just opened it an inch.
You looked at him. Your stomach was tight, uncomfortably so.
“Let me- let me try again, okay? I didn't think this through.”
“There's nothing to think through, just wait-”
Shen appeared at the door, trying to get in but Jack was surprisingly strong in keeping the door barred. “I need my coffee.”
“Give us a minute, Shen,” said Jack with all his attending commanding voice.
“But-”
“- a minute!”
You caught sight of Shen looking to you for help before walking away, head down and probably with his bottom lip jutted out like a kicked puppy. “Shen won't get far without his coffee.”
“Shen can wait till we're done now listen,” he said and leant against the door, watching you close. “I like taking care of you, I do, I really do. Not because I think you're not capable of looking after yourself, you are, I know you are it's... I just...”
You waited.
There was nothing.
Jack looked at you with all wide eyes and tension held in his arms. It's like he wanted to say something but ... couldn't.
One more minute and Shen would tear the place apart for coffee.
“You're a nice guy, Jack, you just don't have to be that nice.”
Jack let his arm fall from the door and you evacuated.
The sun had started to rise and you were so close to getting out the door, so close to running from the day's problems. Day shift had turned up, somewhat bright eyed and bushy tailed to take the days stresses though you weren't sure they could take Jack's insistence to talk to you away.
You were inches away from leaving when Jack called for you.
There wasn't the desperation to talk to you, it was the sort he used in traumas, only.
“I need you, GSW to the chest!”
The both of you ran in, gowns pulling on and gloves next as you pushed through the doors.
It was all the usual to you: too many doctors in one room, so much talking and orders it fell on your ears like music you knew all the words to.
“Woman in her twenties, multiple GSW's,” Robby called out. “Pulse ox eighty!”
The doors shut behind and the team of you all took your roles like a practised routine.
“Three... two... one- move!”
All together you lifted her over.
There was blood blooming on her shirt, a tear in her jeans. There was a black eye and what looked like a broken nose if the cut over the bridge and the slant of it was anything to go by.
You'd seen enough of these to know when they were accidents and when they weren't.
Her back hit the bed and the sharp beep of life being lost echoed.
“We've lost her pulse!” shouted Robby.
Without being told you climbed up, hands coming together and hammering down on her chest. For a split second you felt the ghost of Jack's hands, helping you up before they were gone like a summers breeze.
Looming over her you could see the injuries better. And worse.
“GSW, right-sided, she needs a central line,” you announced.
Jack moved around you and the patient, already preparing himself for the central line before you'd called for one.
“BP's dropping out! Pulse Ox is eighty-five!” Robby called.
“She's got tension pneumo,” said Jack without shouting and everyone heard. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognised that authority he demanded with the simple sound of his voice.
“Crash cart,” said Robby. “Charge to one hundred.”
You waited till you heard the buzz of the cart and felt the heat of the panels before moving.
“Clear!”
The sound of her pulse was quiet and the rhythm was odd but it was there, slight bumps in a green line.
You climbed down, landing next to Jack as he readied with a fourteen needle.
“BP's seventy Ox,” said Jesse.
“Day shifters trying to cramp our style,” said Jack as he slid in.
Robby tutted. “Trying to make sure you don't get all the fun.”
Jack straightened next to you. “Ok, I'm setting up the chest tube, you're gonna set me up with a thirty-two French. Get a mig of atropine and a need a unit of O-neg.”
Two units were hooked up.
“We need to get the chest tube in and stop the bleeding.”
It was all a flurry of hands and tools as the chest tube was in, as the chest was packed with gauze at the right flank where the bullet had tore through her chest. It was a close one, but the sort you could save with nimble hands and careful concentration.
“Okay,” Jack uttered as the both of you loomed over her. “I know we're fighting and I don't like that-”
“We're not fighting and now's not the time,” you said.
Robby was on the other side of the bed, giving the two of you a look. “I agree.”
Jack waved him off, focusing on you. “I'll strike you a deal, we save this woman's life. You get breakfast with me.”
You glanced up, wondering if anyone had heard, though you were sure by now Jack's attempts at asking you on a date was one of the worst kept secrets.
Robby was watching from the other side, arms over his chest and his brows raised.
“You strike a hard bargain there, Abbot,” you mumbled.
“May as well say yes, either way you're saving lives.”
“Why cause you'll die if I say no?”
Jack looked at you. As usual there was nothing giving away if he was joking or not. “Yeah.”
It would have been a pretty poor time to joke.
Five minutes later she was stable.
Blood bags hung slowly draining, rags and gauze of blood littered the ground and torn off gowns were thrown haphazardly around. The patients pulse was steady and beating with the promise of years of life ahead. There'd be challenges, you don't get shot and not have to face even more hardship.
But there was life.
And that was the most rewarding part of the job.
“Good job,” said Robby, peeling of his gloves. “I'm gonna get some air.”
“Then go home, right?” asked Jack as everyone slowly moved away.
Robby only made a rude gesture as the doors closed and left you and Abbott to peel away the blood stained gowns and gloves.
Jack turned to you, un-fazed at the life he'd saved. “You want to go from here or do you want me to drop you off at yours and let you change first?”
You stared at him.
It was almost unfair, his charisma in spite of it all. You didn't stand a chance. When Jack said he was going to save a life, he was going to do just that. It was an added bonus to take you on a date.
Your head was shaking but your lips were curling up.
Jack backed out of the room, leaving you with a thumbs up.
You didn't know why you lingered with the body. You were a resident who had one patient on the go, you should've picked up another. You should've left the trauma room for the surgical consultation.
Yet you wanted to start a chart, wanted to find a name for the girl.
As you walked over, checking her BP which sat safe at one hundred over sixty, her eyes fluttered open, dry lips parting and murmurs exiting.
“Hey,” you dropped your voice gently. “You're safe now, you're at the hospital. Can you hear me?”
You held her head steady as her eyes fluttered but didn't open wide enough to meet yours.
“Can you tell me your name?”
You listened close but got nothing from the grunts.
The doors to the trauma room pushed open.
A small girl stood there, early twenties or even late into her teens. She wore a hoody, blood soaking up the sleeves. She didn't introduce herself, instead, she stared.
“Is she alive?” she asked.
Beyond the broken nose you could see the resemblance in the unconscious on the bed and the one that stood ahead of you.
“Do you know her?” you asked.
“She's my sister.”
“Well your sister was shot in the chest, she's lost a lot of blood but she should make it-”
You heard the gunshots before you saw the gun.
Jack had stripped off the gown stained with blood and pulled off his gloves next, trashing them in a bin.
“That was some way to ask a girl out,” chuckled Robby as he followed his movements in yanking anything with blood on him off.
Jack shrugged. So far nothing that he'd planned the day had gone to plan, asides from saving lives yet that was his plan every day. When you'd called he was already at the hospital but you'd said about the buses and he put his keys back in at once. He thought finally. He'd been waiting for a sign to try to take you on a date, seeing's as the food and books and recommendations and days out weren't enough.
Now, he'd saved a life and got a date.
“So what's next?” asked Robby. “You perform a resuscitative thoracotomy and ask her to marry you?”
“If you have one let me know and I'll see.”
Robby chuckled, patting him on the back when three gunshots rang out.
Everyone ducked.
People screamed.
Where suddenly dozens of people stood everyone was down in lumps, covering heads and ducking for patients.
Jack hovered, not quite down but ready to move. Gun shots were nothing, enough to lull him to sleep. These shots were like any other but they echoed in his ears and richoeted in his heart.
They came from behind him.
From the room he'd just left.
“Where'd that come from?” he asked. He knew.
Robby's hand pushed at his chest, already moving past him. “Trauma two!”
You.
“No!”
The two of them took off toward the room.
A lady exited. It wasn't you. It wasn't the patient. It was a third un-familiar party.
She turned at the sound of heavy footsteps and rose her gun at the two.
“Gun!” someone screamed.
Robby was still holding onto Jack as the two of them skid to a stop in front of her. Somewhere someone was crashing and Jack couldn't see you or hear you.
There were three shots.
He knew three shots were enough to kill.
Jack raised his hands, showing he was harmless and helpless. “Please,” he begged. “Is she alive?”
The girls eyes were hard and full of hatred. The gun was steady in her hands. She was calm, completely but there was no doubt the gun shots were hers. “Not anymore.”
“Oh god-”
“Woah-Woah-” Robby caught Jack with one strong arm as his knees gave out.
You were dead? Some girl- hardly an adult- shot you? Why? To tear out his own heart?
It was already gone.
“Jack? Jack, brother, listen to me,” Robby was trying to talk to him but nothing was going through to him, like a signal lost.
The girl turned and left quickly, making sure everyone knew she had a gone when they all knew she wasn't afraid to use it. The shots must have rung out through the entire hospital.
Robby helped Jack up and as soon as the doors leaving the Pitt closed they rushed in.
The harsh sound of beeping was bouncing off the trauma walls where blood was splattered and a pool of that same blood dripped down into a puddle under the patient.
“Oh my god.” Jack found you at once, using the walls as a crutch as you stumbled your way through the room. He was at your side at once, arms around your trembling body and holding you- moving with you even as you tried to walk.
There was blood all over you and you'd paled dramatically.
Jack coaxed you into staying still, grabbing your cheeks to get your attention. He ignored the pain in his leg that had come from the run, the giving out and now as he crouched to get a look at you. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me- let me look at you. Are you hurt? Did she hurt you?”
Robby had already rushed to the patients side, what doctors and nurses that had gained control over themselves joining him in trying to save her life again. “Ah shit, looks like PEA! Amp of antropine, amp of Epi!”
Your eyes darted over to where the chaos ensued, even as Jack tried to get you to look at him.
“You won't ... won't get her back!” your voice was shaky and hoarse from a scream he hadn't heard. “Blew her god damn brains out.”
“Come here, okay, let's-let's-” Jack's arm was around your shoulder and he was moving you out, trying to help pulling off your bloody gloves while keeping an arm on you.
There was blood and something else on your gloves. Blew her brains out. And you'd tried to scoop them back in.
When the bright lights of the hospital met you your body grew still in his arm.
Jack was familiar with trembles, with blood and PTSD. He wasn't used to any of it in you. In everything he'd learnt about you, he hadn't learnt the subtle art of comfort. “Let's get you some air, let's get you cleaned up-”
You pushed out of Jack's arms, pulling and tugging at your scrub top soaked in blood and all but ran into the women's bathroom.
He heard retching as the door closed.
Jack shook his head, ready to follow you when Dana appeared in front of him, hand on his chest.
“Take it easy, take it easy, I'll check in on her.”
He could still hear you throwing up when Dana slipped in.
The sun was high in the sky, casting the roof of PCMT in an orange glow. The sky burnt in its colour but all you saw was red.
One moment the girl had been crashing, the monitor still beeped in your head. Her body had jerked up to the sky before you got a rhythm back and then- just as you did with any patient- you got hopeful. It seemed in the clear to do so, you'd helped patients come back from worse and you always had hope.
Nobody that worked in the ED could live without it.
Then- it had took three bangs for you to drop to the ground but not before being smeared in blood. You didn't even know what was happening as the ringing ran out in your ears. You'd met the ground with a hard thump to your head. When your vision cleared you saw the shoes rush out of the room.
Your guiding as a med student was doing no harm, saving lives and you'd dropped and put your life ahead of your patients.
What kind of doctor did that?
The cowardly type- you.
“You're in my spot,” said a voice coming closer.
Jack.
His voice soothed the nerves in your body that had been on edge since the accident. Everything made you jump, but him.
“It's a nice spot,” you said as loud as you could, knowing your voice still wasn't back. Or loud enough.
“Yeah,” he said, getting closer. “But usually I like to be on the other side of the rail. And on my feet.”
You were sat on the edge of the roof, not on the edge close enough for anyone to worry but apparently that didn't stop Jack.
He huffed, behind you now. “Please, I'm an older guy, my heart can't take it. Can you come over?”
If your feet weren't like weights pulling you down maybe you could have but you were struggling to feel any part of you.
You admitted as much, quietly. “I can't move.”
You'd moved quick when faced with the gun, dropping to save your own skin. Since then moving had been difficult, like you'd used every muscle in your body to push yourself and now you were locked.
Jack moved in a blur as he ducked under the rail and slowly set down next to you. He was silent, only his breathing calming you. “Did you get checked over with Robby?”
You nodded. “The ringing'll go away in a day or two.”
“Yeah.... it always does.”
You looked at him and Jack was looking at you. The grey stubble of his beard never looked greyer and his eyes were dull, small half moon bruises of sleep marked there. His hair was ruffled and he smelled dully of hospital.
This was a man that had saved more lives than you could count and severed in tours ... and he was taking time to check on you.
“I'm sorry,” you didn't know you had cried till Jack's arm was around your shoulder, bringing you in.
“Hey, hey,” he cooed, his arm tight on you. “What are you sorry for, huh?”
“I didn't save her, I-I should've tried. Should be reasoned with the shooter and I just-I just dropped down and you-” your breathing was ragged, the cries frequenting. “-you've done so much, lost your leg for damn sakes and I just dropped.”
“Hey,” he snapped. It wasn't un-kind. It was stern in ways he had to be in the as a night attending. “You did everthing you could.”
You looked at him. He really meant that though. “I dropped down!”
“You saved your life,” he reminded you. Jack's arm was still tight on your shoulders but his other hand held your cheek, making you focus on him. “You acted on instinct. If you hadn't your patient still would've shot and you-” Jack's breath caught. His eyes were glossed over. You'd missed the redness around his eyes. “- you'd have been shot and I couldn't live with that. I-I couldn't.”
Jack wiped away his tears, wiping yours next. He chuckled dryly at the both of your tears.
“I lost my leg in a tour,” said Jack. “Where guns and shooting is part of the job. It's not in a hospital. You did what you could.”
It still didn't feel right. It still felt like the cowards way of doing things.
“Look at me, look at me-” he nudged your gaze to his. His eyes were wide and implored you to look at him. Really look. “You did what you could and I know a patient died and I know-I know it's hard but...”
He sniffed.
“But what?” you mumbled. How could there be a but in any of this?
He held your cheeks tighter, smudging your cheeks just that little more. Jack let out a shaky exhale. “But I am so happy you're okay. I am so fucking glad.”
His dimples were hardly there as he gave you a sorry smile.
Your head fell into his chest and he brought his arms around you, holding you, shushing you as you cried. Cried for your patient, for the shooter, for the way you dropped. None of which maybe could be forgiven but all of which were valid.
Somewhere in the crying Jack held you tighter and moved the both of you back away from the ledge. You let him, even helped in scuffing your feet and pushing away till the railing hit both your backs.
“You're okay, I got you, I got you.”
I got you. He'd always had you, if he hadn't had you today what would you have done? Nothing crazy but you might have stayed up on the roof all day, be dead on your feet by the night. Jack had always had you and when he did you'd all but told him not to.
“I'm sorry.”
His hand ran over your hair. It had come lose but still remained in the braiding. “You don't have to be sorry, you don't.”
“No about earlier, in the lounge,” you said, holding onto him. “You were being nice, you've always been nice and I... I was horrible-”
“- you weren't horrible, no-”
“- you've been so kind to me and I don't even say thanks-”
“- you have actually, quite a few times- ”
“- I don't know why you put up with me-”
“- well, it helps that I love you-”
If there was one way to shut your rambling up, it was that.
You still had a vice on his scrub top but you looked up to him. For the first time- you think ever- Jack had to look away from you.
“What?” you asked.
Jack's jaw ticked and he clocked his head. “I didn't mean to say that.”
Disappointment chocked you. Of course it would just slip out, heck Jack was comforting you, he'd say anything.
“Oh.”
“I do love you,” he said and you looked at him with something akin to hope as you moved your head away. “That's why I've been looking after you, that's what you do when your- when your in love. My... my wife taught me that. I was just scared you know cause.... I haven't been in love since she died.”
It wasn't often Jack talked about his wife but when he did he talked. He'd talk anyone's ears off about her and once or twice you'd been that person.
“I'm sorry.” This time you weren't sure what you were apologising for, you just were.
Jack looked at you with a mocked frustration.
You cringed. “Sorry, I should- I should stop saying that.”
He hummed and nodded along with you, a tiny smile on his lips, the chapped parts cracking from the salt of his last tears. “I never meant to make you feel incapable, I know you can look after yourself. But I want to.”
You laughed at yourself, wiping at your cheeks and snot. “Why? I'm a mess.”
Jack took your cheek in the palm of his hand. “No, you're not. Not to me.”
Jack kissed you so slow and sweet on the edge of the roof with the sun praising upon the both of you. He didn't push his feelings into you, he let you feel them in the gentle press of his lips and the hold of his hands.
While courting, wolves will stay close to their potential mate and typically will not leave their side if possible. They are also very affectionate and will nuzzle, lick each other, and will even walk side by side.
Jack Howl! Who’d recently begun acting… strange, to you, recently - face avoiding yours entirely when you sat or walked next to him, ears perked up and tail wagging when you’d offered him a hug that one time.(though he swatted your affection away. Huh.) Shoulders brushing against yours a little too purposefully during movie night, forever complaining about how your uniform was never neat, always helping you readjust your tie, dusting off imaginary dirt off your clothes whenever you meet, bashfully looking away when you asked him why he was being so nice(“Well, we’re… in the court - no, nevermind.”) Things went downhill(or uphill, maybe?)when he started to return your affections, nuzzling his nose against yours or your neck, almost whining when you tried to pull away, pawing at you to stay with him, for just a little while longer… earning sniggers and off-handed comments from both Leona and Ruggie, teasing Jack on how he was really piling it on ‘em, huh, getting one too many complaints from Leona, about how you smelt just like him… wait, what? Jack Howl, who was certain you’d agree to meet his family over the school holidays - you started to court him first, after all, and he was certain they'd absolutely adore you :)))
While courting, male hyenas will often shadow their potential mate to foster a relationship, approach a female and repeatedly take a few steps toward her and then a few steps away, even if the female doesn't react to his approach, and bow low to the ground to show submission to the potential mate, as female hyenas tend to be more aggressive than their male counterparts.
Ruggie Buuchi! Who was acting shifty again - walking behind you but scuttling a few steps back if you ever noticed him, face a mix of fear and hesitance, before returning to tailing you - but he was Ruggie, so you quickly dismissed his behaviour as Ruggie just being Ruggie again.(Which worked wonders for the poor hyena’s heart, now fully sure you weren’t going to bite his head off if he got too close.) Following you around school like a shadow - a skittish, blushy one, sure, but still a shadow nonetheless - attempting to mask them as chance encounters, though after a while, he was fairly sure you knew he was just making up excuses to hang around you at this point(not that he minded much.) Walking you to essentially anywhere you went, copying your actions to a tee - if you ate, he would eat(not without stealing bites off your plate, though), if you took a nap, he would take a nap.(on your lap, preferably, but only if you let him) Being more affectionate to you in general, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, though he was quick to bend down and apologise if he ever felt like he was overstepping. Pupils practically turning into hearts when you let him nuzzle his nose against your neck from behind, hiding his burning face into the crook of your neck for nearly ten minutes before he pulled away.(A successful mount - Grandma would be so happy, shyehehehe!) Inviting you over to his home in the Savannah over the school holidays, grinning despite your confused expression. “What? Granny’s been dying to meet my dear mate, it’s only expected, shyeheehee.” :))))
While courting, lions typically approach their potential mate and engage in actions like nuzzling, head rubbing and licking, followed by ‘tended courtship’ where the male follows their potential mate, shadowing them and engaging in behaviours such as rubbing, pawing and gentle biting.
Leona Kingscholar! Who had started to cling to you like a particularly annoying leech, dragging you to his favourite napping spots and holding you hostage in his arms, head slotted perfectly into the crook of your neck ignoring his usual schedule of skipping school in favour of following you around instead - walking you to all of your classes with a glare venomous enough to scare off anyone trying to talk to you, so ‘conveniently’ standing outside them when they happened to end.(not slick, Leona, not slick at all.) Rubbing his head against yours on one such kidnapping occasion, smile a tad bit too smug when you repeated the same motion to him, before you tried to get up and was met with a scowl and his hands pawing at you back to the grass, his arms firmly wrapped around your middle to prevent further escape attempts(sucks for you, I guess) Things escalating when he bit you, square on your neck after a nap, expression strangely nervous, before brightening up considerably when you decided to be petty and promptly nipped him back on his collarbone, for ‘payback’ (nevermind how your face felt like it was burning, how he grinned and pulled you in for a celebratory nap, once again locking you in his embrace) Knocking on your door the day before the school holidays, flopping on your bed, seemingly done with life before he spoke - “Falena keeps on bugging me to meet my mate. How about it? Can’t say Sunset Savanna’s the nicest place to visit, but you oughta get used to it - visiting in-laws, and all that. …What? D’ya think you could court a prince and get away scot-free? ;))
hey, if you liked this… check out Heartslabyul's, Octavinelle’s, Scarabia's, Pomefiore's, Ignihyde’s or Diasomnia’s versions?
alternatively; check out the Savannaclaw masterlist?
SUMMARY: jack abbot rocked your world so hard that he dislodged your iud, leading you to visit the ptmc emergency room, not knowing that he was the night shift attending
WARNINGS: mentions of sex/one-night-stand, fluff, contraceptives, vaginal exam (professionally), poc reader, reader has curly/coily hair, afab reader, vaginas, sweetheart, language, medical inaccuracies
you, who unknowingly had a one-night stand with the senior attending of the night shift. the day after, you were sore, not only because of the sex, but because of the nasty bruises that were on your waist—handprint-shaped bruises that were purple and red. not to mention the love bites on your chest, and the scratches covering your back.
but that wasn't the reason you'd come to ptmc the night after sex with your mysterious stranger, jack, as he called himself. you were in the emergency room because your iud had been dislodged and was poking painfully into your vaginal wall.
the pain was excruciating, so much so that you'd dragged yourself to the emergency room in only pajamas, hair still wrapped up in a scarf, and cramps tearing apart your abdomen.
you were dripping in sweat, and the majority of your night, including hands up your vagina trying to figure out what was the matter, then finally realizing the issue when one of the arms of your iud fell out, bloody.
because you weren't a doctor, you didn't want to speculate on how your iud got dislodged, but your best opinion was that jack fucked you so hard, that he did it. thinking back, it was great sex, enough for you to accidentally dream of the man when you went to sleep that night, imagining having sex with him again.
currently, you were sitting in one of the rooms of the ER, after an hour long wait in the waiting room. most of your time waiting was spent silently judging the other waiting patients and squeezing your eyes shut each time a bout of cramps rolled in.
a nurse escorted you inside the room and began asking you what the issue was.
"yes, i have an iud in, and yesterday i was sexually active, i think that caused it to fall out. but not fully, because i can feel it stabbing into my vaginal wall." the nurse gave you a polite nod, "okay, so in cases like this, i'll call in a doctor to come in and do a vaginal exam. from there, we'll decide whether or not it can be removed without surgery."
an irritated sigh seeped from your lips, but the nurse rubbed your shoulder gently, "give me a minute and i'll be back with our attending, dr. abbot and some medication."
waiting for dr. abott didn't do much but annoy you more, not to mention the waves of pain spreading down your belly and into your pelvis. you couldn't keep still, foot tapping anxiously against the ground.
the only thing that seemed to lessen the pain was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and taking in deep breaths. in all honesty, you felt like you were in labor, waiting for contractions so you could push.
there was a knock on the door, and it pushed open, but you didn't bother to glance, "honey, this is dr. abbot, he'll be taking care of you for the rest of the night."
"can dr. abbot, give me some damn medicine? i can't even think straight." there was silence, and you finally glanced up, though you wish you hadn't, because standing there was jack, the very man who rocked your world the night before.
he stood there silently for a second, slipping gloves onto his hands, but then he gave you a polite smile, grabbing a chair and sitting down in front of you. "what did you do to yourself?" the humor in his voice made you scoff, wiping away the sheen of sweat on your forehead, "you did this to me! the day after you...my iud dislodged. i tried to get it myself, but couldn't."
jack hummed, fisting his scrub pants. you could see a love bite you'd given him sitting on the hollow of his throat, and if you weren't in so much pain, you would've blushed.
"well, i'm sorry." you matched his gaze, searching for the guilt, and it was there, but the tiny grin on his lips made you scoff. "is this really the time to smile?"
jack wiped the smile off of his and inhaled deeply, "so, i want you to change into a gown so i can see what's going on. do you consent to a vaginal exam?"
"you've seen plenty more, so yes." jack nodded slowly and pulled the curtain in front of the door, then handed you the patient gown. when he spun around to give you privacy, you smiled lightly, appreciating his professionalism.
"can you give me anything for the pain?"
"yep, right here." jack spun around and handed you a cup of chewable ibuprofen, then he circled you and grabbed the ties of your gown, fingers whispering against your spine.
"do you always sleep with patients?" you said it quietly, climbing on the bed and watching jack grab a speculum and lubricant. he sat in front of you, and pulled out the stirrups. "you weren't my patient a night ago." his curt answer made you suspicious of what he wasn't saying, but instead of digging, you nodded.
"the first thing i'm going to do is insert the speculum. you shouldn't feel pain, only pressure. and it's going to be cold." jack grabbed your feet gently, helping you lift them into the stirrups.
then he lifted your gown, but you were thankful to feel a lack of embarrassment considering the events of the other night.
staring up at the ceiling, you waited for jack to begin pushing in the speculum, flinching when it finally touched you, impossibly cold. "i'm going to push it in, slowly. if you feel any pain, let me know."
the soft, husky hum of jack's voice was calming, and thankfully, the ibuprofen began kicking in, so you had no problem relaxing.
"sweetheart, i see it. it's lodged into the superior vaginal wall, near your cervix. one of the arms is broken off." you let out a tiny breath, beginning to tense up as jack pushed a pair of forceps into the speculum, attempting to grab the iud.
"when i pull, you'll feel pain, but if it becomes excruciating, tell me." jack rubbed a gentle hand over your knee, face lost between your thighs. all you could hear was the beat of your own heart, but as soon as jack was finished, you sighed in relief.
he raised the bloody iud, "there's the little fucker." he gave you a lopsided grin, placing the iud aside, then he pulled out the speculum.
"hard part's over." you gave him a look, legs closing, "i thought that was it?" jack took your hand, pulling you up, "to be safe, would you like contraceptives?"
he was looking up at you, arms resting against your thighs. the sex flashed through your mind's eye, and you blushed heavily, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, "yes, i do."
"what's the matter?" jack pulled you close, cheek pressed between your breasts as he inhaled your scent. any sane person would think the two of you were in a relationship, but you'd spent five hours of your life with him and he cooked you a meal afterwards.
"if i knew you worked here, i wouldn't have come." jack scoffed, though not unkindly, head lifting so he could meet your gaze. "it's no problem, sweetheart. matter of fact, why don't i come over after my shift and make you another meal?"
your lips pressed against his forehead, legs locking around his torso, "i thought this was a one-night thing."
"what if i don't want it to be?" his voice was barely heard, but you ran your fingers over the prickly salt and pepper beard on his jaw, shrugging, "i love free meals."
SUMMARY: Blame the Unbirthday revelry, the spiked punch, the swirl of sweets and music. Blame your own daring, if you must—
But you can’t blame fate when you find yourself tangled in the sheets of the one you secretly longed for all along.
TAGS: Spicy, a bit of smut, sugar coating fluff, sloppy and a bit of crack, drunk sex.
WARNING: porn with little plot, nudity, unprotected sex (always wrap it up!!), oral fixation, oral sex (reciving and giving), fingering, mild gagging, mild dirty talk, pet names, virginity loss, Doubble D, merfolk fuck, tentacles, knotting.
COMMENTS: This is the FINAL PART FOR THIS SERIES! New intro, same context. All characters are +18. Part one here - Part two here
Ah...Unbirthday party, so many rules, so many colors, so many Heartslabyul students following the schedule to the letter, but it’s the new guests, the slight loosening of Riddle, the new activities, and the fresh air without a trace of tension or rivalry that makes this party feel more… alive. Loud music blares from someone’s speaker, drinks and sweets, too many sweets, that aren’t written in the beloved “Queen of Hearts’ Rules,” the atmosphere overflowing with camaraderie forged after a completely… catastrophic year. The red roses painted immaculately, students from the famously strict dorm welcoming every guest who wants to join, appreciating all the contributions to make this party feel more like a celebration than just a dorm event.
Trey and Cater busy themselves filling the dessert table, already overflowing with chocolates, strawberry tarts, bowls of plain strawberries, though you leave a pot full of cream for anyone who wants to make their fruit even more delicious. Vil and Rook bring more fresh food, prepared with the best organic ingredients from Pomefiore; even Epel brought several jugs of apple juice.
The atmosphere feels more energized, mixed with that dangerous aura of a bunch of hormone-driven kids with barely controlled magic who want to blow off stress one way or another; even if blowing off stress means eating until bursting, hitting a sugar spike… or getting drunk.
Because yes, this might be the calmest Unbirthday party in terms of rules, but that didn’t mean Ace couldn’t pull something. With a flask in hand and the most smug, mischievous grin that always shows when he knows what he’s about to do could land him in serious trouble, Ace pours the bright amber contents—shining and camouflaged perfectly in the punch, or was it iced tea?—so that no one notices the difference; or maybe they do, but they’re too busy with the food and with breaking more rules.
“If anything happens, blame my brother. His idea” the redhead tells you when you give him a look, though it doesn’t last long because you also want to try the contents of that new, gleaming drink.
Between hands and dancing, what starts as one cup filled to the brim with amber liquid mixed with fruit turns into two, three, even a fourth; it’s so sweet you can’t even taste the alcohol. Your legs, however, do notice, wobbling this way and that when you’re guided through the maze-like garden paths, or when Trey takes you to the lounge to help carry new tarts to the dessert table, him holding one in each hand without trouble.
The celebration that, by habit, usually lasts a couple of afternoon hours stretches longer and longer, the sun dipping below the horizon and the real magic beginning to hum with the moon in the sky. The lights grow sharper, more intimate, some colored, the music louder and the air heavier with sweetness.
You see Jack and Leona having a friendly arm-wrestling match on one of the lounge’s low tables, some betting on Jack, others, too afraid to go against him, on Leona. Jamil sits beneath a great rose arbor, enjoying that for once he doesn’t have to cook, letting Kalim do as he pleases.
Sebek’s constant shouting rings out as several people approach Malleus to strike up small conversations, noticeably affected by the punch enough to lose their fear, and the tall fae letting himself be drawn into countless discussions, most of which he barely understands, yet listening closely and laughing from time to time.
The air grows warmer with every minute as people shed the tension from their shoulders and let the stress dissolve on the improvised dance floor in the middle of the lounge. You feel hands brushing your arms and hips, bodies leaning against you to share gossip or simply mess with your hair or your reactions, someone placing a liquor-filled chocolate against your lips, waiting for you to bite so they can eat the other half.
Vague, sensory memories linger in your mind like small flashbacks: fingertips brushing the skin of your neck, a whisper in your ear, your back arching slightly thanks to the garden breeze over your nape freed from your hair. Someone moving your hair from your face and lips brushing your forehead before lowering to yours. Memories of your vision blurring and spinning and glowing while the noise of the party scatters, as if the crowd were drifting away, or maybe it’s you who’s drifting. The coldness of the wall against your back and a warm body against your chest.
Hands roaming your sides, tongues licking your thighs, a bed falling apart with every movement of both bodies; a rough gasp against your neck, teeth nibbling your earlobe, skin burning and the delicious anticipation of desire sliding between you. Words barely whispered or spoken through laughter, sometimes said with need, other times with pure overflowing desire, promising an endless night meant only for you.
Morning light pushes in annoyingly through the window, preventing you from opening your eyes to face the new day. A headache drills from behind your eyes and your body aches and feels heavy, and you’re unable to move without your legs feeling numb, like a pair of gelatin molds with a liquid center slowly pushing through and melting the outer layer.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
Cater
Waking up feels like you survived a tornado of sugar and bad decisions. Your head is pounding like it’s about to explode and your mouth is ridiculously dry. When you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is a trail of…
Glitter?
Well that’s new
You also notice the pillow is way too soft, much softer than yours at Ramshackle, and it smells like citrus mixed with both sweet and spicy.
You stretch, your body aching in a sharp way but also with a pleasant sensation between your legs and in your thighs, and your hand bumps into another body.
You bump it again… and again… and again.
Your hand keeps colliding with what seems to be a bare chest.
You hear a low, satisfied hum, look to your side, and find Cater’s awake face, hair a mess, phone in hand.
And the camera is pointed straight at your wrecked face.
“Morning, cutie~!” his voice far too energetic for this hour.
He flips the phone around and shows you the very lovely, very disastrous photo of your eyes barely open in the first morning light.
You look like absolute hell, sweetheart
“#GoalsIRL, am I right?”
“Delete that right now, Cater!”
He just laughs, tossing the phone onto the pile of discarded clothes at the foot of the bed—and by pile I mean a couple of your things and his, let’s say some shirts and a pair of pants.
Because the rest of the clothes… are everywhere.
Your panties are even hanging from the bedpost.
“Relax, babe, that one’s just for my private collection,” his mischievous eyes travel over your body, biting his lip. “Unless you want me to show the world the absolute snack I had last night”
You follow the line of his gaze and realize your chest is uncovered, bits of glitter stuck to your skin. Your eyes return to Cater, noticing his chest is also bare and covered in glitter.
You pull the sheets up to your chest, but you can’t help wanting to look underneath them. Very timidly you lift them and, to your not-so-surprise… yes, you’re naked; you clutch the fabric tighter around yourself and sit up slowly.
“We…?”
Cater gives you the most shameless grin. “Oh, we definitely did, cutie~” He winks and his voice drops into a wicked whisper. “Didn’t know you had what it takes to keep up with me. Didn’t peg you as someone so… insatiable”
Fragments return in chaotic bursts: his hands around your waist while he made you dance to a song neither of you was really listening to; his lips at your ear whispering all the things he wanted to do to you after the party.
His lips never leaving yours when he couldn’t wait until the end, whispering he needed you now, carrying you to his room while holding you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your ass.
The moment he tossed you onto the bed and didn’t waste a second before pressing his lips back to the skin of your neck, undoing every button he found in his path and stripping you in record time. His mouth biting you with each piece of clothing freed, leaving reddish marks on your collarbone, your breasts, your thighs. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look like this?”
His hands spreading your legs as he lowered his head, licking and sucking without restraint, growling in pleasure every time you moaned loudly. His tongue teasing your clit, sucking when he felt you getting desperate; his fingers sliding inside, first one then two, bringing your first orgasm of the night.
You remember riding him, your hands on your chest, his cock opening your wet cunt with every drop of your hips, your hair loose and eyes half-closed while your clit rubbed against his pelvis. Cater simply admiring your body moving deliciously, your breasts bouncing up and down.
His big hands holding one while the other gripped your hip firmly. “Come on, baby, move more, I want you to cum with my cock buried deep inside you”
The flash of his phone when he snapped a ridiculously shameless photo, the camera aimed right where his cock was driving into you, maybe even recording a short video; you managed to snatch the phone and throw it into a corner just as he smacked your ass hard.
The way he kept turning you and switching positions at will: your ass fully on display when he flipped you and kept you riding him, holding onto his legs; fucking you against the wall, his fingers sliding between your legs to play with your clit while he sucked your nipples.
Though his favorite position was missionary, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt already drenched from so many orgasms… while your mouth was also being used by one of his clones. “Keep moaning. I want the whole dorm to know who’s fucking you this good”
You remember feeling more than a couple of hands wandering over your body, gripping your hips, spreading your legs wider and keeping you from closing them, palms over your breasts playing with your nipples; and one particular hand gripping your throat so you could feel his cock sliding below.
“So delicious… you like it when I fuck you with my clones, baby? Hm? Want us inside everywhere?” your moans mixing with his breathless laughter as he thrust faster and faster until he spilled inside.
The moment he pulled out slowly, watching his semen slide from your pussy; his fingers gathering it and pushing it back in. “We’re not wasting a single drop, right cutie?” and before you could answer, he was already pushing back in, his cock hard again to start thrusting once more.
“You okay, baby? No regrets, right?” His words pull you out of the endless spiral of filthy, indecent fragments.
His thumb is working over a sore muscle in your back, slowly easing the tension. His gaze expectant and a bit nervous about whatever words you might say next.
“No regrets, Cay-Cay.” He smiles, satisfied—hearing that seems to free him from needing to hide under the biggest rock in society.
“…but you’re deleting everything you took yesterday.”
“Awww~ you’re so mean,” but there’s no offense in his tone.
Cater rolls onto his back, stretching, and you can’t help noticing the faint marks along his neck: hickeys, scratches, spots where you dug in your nails; he shows them like a supermodel.
“Wanna go for another round? Or need a second to catch your breath?”
You push his chest, though without much force and even less conviction. You let out a small laugh and he pulls you close, your body fitting perfectly at his side.
The warmth of his body wraps around you and for a second… you can set the headache aside.
Ruggie
The first thing you notice when you wake up is that your mouth is so dry it feels like the savanna itself, your head pounding a thousand miles an hour and an overwhelming, absolute need to chug a galleon of water.
You turn over, hoping to fall back asleep or at least find a position that might ease the drumming in your skull; you reach for the nearest thing to hug, thinking the soft pillow under your head might have a twin.
And you did find something, yes. But it’s not a pillow you’re hugging so tightly.
It’s something solid, hard, and a bit lean… and it’s alive.
You hear a yawn near your ear, followed by a soft chuckle. Something soft moves above your head.
A pair of ears twitch in time with your breathing.
…ears
You open one eye and find Ruggie’s messy hair, his gray-blue eyes looking at you from the next pillow over.
“Morning, sunshine—”
You don’t let him finish.
Still disoriented and a little sleepy, you grab the pillow under you and smack it straight into his face.
“AHHHHH… RUGGIE WTF?!?”
“Hey! Hey! Don’t hit me!”
Ruggie dodges a second strike by hiding under the sheets and peeking out with a wicked grin. He’s still laughing hard, coughing a bit from the intensity of that wake-up. “You’re more violent than a female hyena after mating”
“Ma-mating?!”
Your wide eyes take in Ruggie’s figure, only now barely covered; his torso is bare, a few scratches across his shoulders and pecs, a purplish hickey on his neck.
You glance down and see your own chest just as bare, covered in bite marks and a couple of hickeys along the curve of your breasts.
You clutch the pillow to you like a shield, covering your chest. “What…? Did we…? What happened?”
Ruggie props himself on one shoulder and starts counting on his fingers. “Let’s see… we danced a few songs, you stole a sweet straight outta my mouth, I got it back by kissing you, you asked me to teach you how the ‘wild animals of the savanna’ end the night… and I guess we got a little outta control, huh?”
The memories come in flashes: Ruggie’s hands on your hips while he spun you around again and again until you got dizzy. His wild laugh when you chased him down corridor after corridor, stumbling over your own feet, until you caught him and kissed him in the darkness of an empty hallway.
Wild, hungry kisses, little bites along your neck and collarbone. A particularly mischievous nip at your hip when he yanked your underwear down with his teeth; his hands positioning you on your back, one on your hip and the other lifting your leg, presenting you open for him.
His quick, skillful fingers moving nonstop inside your cunt while his tongue slowly licked your clit. “Fuck, best meal I’ve ever had” Your back arching when he found your most sensitive spot and hit it again and again and again, making you see stars and moan nonstop.
The way he bent you over, half your body on the bed, the other with your feet on the floor, your ass raised high so he could knead it, squeeze it, smack it.
The fast, eager rhythm of his thrusts, his hips slamming relentlessly into your backside, making it bounce. “Look at it move” His chest against your back, gripping your hips tight so you wouldn’t collapse.
His cock opening you inch by inch, trying to go deeper and harder, pinching your nipples so you couldn’t help but moan for him.
The way he sat you on top of him, Ruggie perfectly level with your breasts, squeezing and massaging them while you dropped down on him again and again. Your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance so you could move faster and keep your clit rubbing constantly against him.
His dirty words in your ear when he felt your spongy walls tighten, knowing you were about to cum. “C’mon, pretty, cum for me. I want you screaming for me”
Ruggie’s name on your lips when you cum hard, collapsing onto him, your nipples brushing his chest, already so sensitive and abused by his fingers and teeth; his reaction to having you squeeze him so tight, now moving you at his rhythm, fast and feral again.
“Ruggie! I-I’m sensitive!” him just moving you faster until you cum again, him chasing his own orgasm.
The moment Ruggie spilled outside, splattering your stomach with his seed. “I know you’ve got more in you, sunshine. ’Cause I’m nowhere near satisfied”
You groan, hiding your face behind the pillow, the fragments painfully vivid even with your eyes closed. “Oh Seven… really?”
“Yeah, pretty. And you were loud… pretty sure we didn’t let anyone in the dorm sleep.”
That does not make it better!!
Ruggie’s now stretched on his back, arms behind his head, the picture of satisfaction. You can’t help tracing his naked body with your eyes, every mark, every scratch, every hickey… drifting lower and lower, seeing the outline of his barely-awake cock under the sheets.
Ruggie’s eyes are up there, you know?
Your cheeks flush red and you look up at the ceiling, a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal settling in your stomach and between your legs.
Ruggie stretches a hand toward your face, a finger tapping your nose. “You okay? No regrets?”
“I think… I think I’m okay.” You look back at him. “Just… wow.”
His grin now shows nothing but fangs and he sits up until your noses touch. “Just wow? Guess I’ll have to try harder then”
You shove him with the pillow and he catches your wrist, pulling you until you end up half on top of him. “You looked so happy last night, I wanna do it again”
His lips find yours, slow, almost a brush. His hand slides up your arm until he pulls away the pillow that so shamelessly hides the beautiful sight of your breasts marked by him.
“And if you’re in the mood, maybe I can make breakfast too… but only if you pay me in kisses.”
You settle more comfortably over him, wrapping both arms around his neck. Your cunt perfectly positioned over his throbbing, hungry cock, eager to sink back into you.
“Deal, hyena”
Jack
There’s a strong, solid, enveloping heat pressing you from all sides, keeping your back glued to a body much larger than yours, two limbs holding you tightly, wrapping around your waist from both sides.
You open your eyes, confused, and notice those limbs are two arms, huge and muscular, hugging you and keeping you firmly trapped.
And on top of that… you also feel something furry and fluffy tickling your leg.
…You lift the sheets.
It takes you a moment to register that: you’re naked, there’s a silver tail over your leg, the sheets aren’t yours, the bed isn’t Ramshackle’s… it goes without saying the room isn’t yours either.
Someone’s warm, light breathing prickles the skin of your neck. You turn your head slightly and see silver strands, adorned with two relaxed ears, barely twitching with each breath.
Jack huffs softly against your hair, his chest vibrating with his deep breathing. You feel his nose brush your nape and, with a low growl, he pulls you even closer, pressing your ass against his hip.
You feel his cock, hard, throbbing and big, even half-asleep; you hold back a gasp, noticing that small tingle of pleasure mixed with curiosity and the faint suspicion that last night was wilder than you want to admit.
“Jack…” your pulse suddenly races, like you’re running a marathon.
And with this wolf behind you… naked, for the record… there’s a very good chance you already ran that marathon.
You try to move slowly, but his arms tighten a little more, leaving small kisses along your nape.
Memories from the night before hit like lightning: the moment you leaned too heavily against his huge chest, your hands stroking up along his big arms, appreciating his muscles; his own hands pulling you even closer before pinning you against the wall.
His arms lifting you effortlessly—you weighing nothing to him—his mouth devouring yours while he held you snug against his groin. In that position, lifted and pressed between two solid surfaces, he made you feel so small; your cunt already growing wet with anticipation.
You remember the damp heat of his mouth moving down your neck, his tongue heavy with desire, soft bites leaving marks he then kissed tenderly or soothed with his tongue. “Does it hurt?” he’d whisper, and when you shook your head no, he dared to bite a little harder, growling when he felt you tremble beneath him.
The moment he laid you on your back on the bed, his knees between yours, his lips kissing every inch of your chest, licking, sucking your nipples until you were breathless.
His big, calloused hands exploring your body, opening your legs, sliding his fingers inside your more-than-wet pussy, opening you patiently but without hiding his desire, his palm right over your clit. Every time his fingers curled inside you, he stimulated that sensitive bundle at the same time.
His erection, heavy and throbbing, brushing your cunt, rubbing and letting your fluids wet him and make him harder; his tip rubbing your clit, ready to pull another orgasm from you without even being inside yet.
The way he arranged you on your side, lifting one leg and penetrating you slowly, filling you completely. Both your breathing ragged, mixed with gasps. His movements slow at first, sliding in and out, his hand holding your neck so he could bite you freely. “Let me mark you, let the whole world know you’re mine”
When you rode him, his cock sinking deeper, the wetness of your pussy soaking his abdomen and your legs, letting him thrust into you more easily, your hands on his chest, nails digging into his skin. The strength of his arms guiding you up and down, trembling when he felt your walls tighten more and more, cumming with his cock buried deep inside.
The moment you felt him swell at the base inside you, the pressure of his knot beginning to form, Jack gripping your waist to keep you from moving. “If you keep moving that good, I’m gonna cum deep inside you,” you trembled in his hold, his knot stretching you much wider.
The moment you both cum together, him howling your name muffled into your neck, the heat of his seed filling you, his knot firmly seated, keeping every drop from leaving your cunt and preventing you from separating while your orgasm made you writhe from head to toe.
The way he pulled you to him, his knot still deep inside, but his hands soft and protective, stroking your hair and face while you came down from the wave of your climax.
You dare to turn a little more, your memories from last night fresh and very, very hot, when you see Jack open his eyes, still confused and sleepy; his voice rough and deep… if that’s even possible.
“Morning, did you sleep well?”
“I think so… I can’t really feel my body… except my head.”
A small smile slips from him, nervous but sincere. “Didn’t mean to be rough last night.” His fingers trace the curve of your back. “But… I couldn’t stop touching you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, his fingertips along with the growing pressure against your ass. “I can tell”
You hear a growl leave his throat, your back arching as you reach to touch his chest, his shoulders; Jack bites his lip when he feels you press even closer to him. “You’re doing that on purpose”
You laugh at the little self-control he’s battling to maintain… though it makes you squeeze your eyes shut at the sudden stab of your headache. His hands stroke your body slowly so the sudden pain fades a little.
Every brush, every caress, is loaded with that contained animal desire, which finally snaps when he kisses your neck again, hungrier and deeper. Soon, the bed creaks again beneath both your weights, the heat rising between your bodies.
In the morning, all that remains is the murmur of your name on his lips and his arms, steady and strong, settling you beneath him once more, while the sun keeps rising over the horizon.
Azul
For a moment, everything feels too and perfectly still, like a silent cocoon of warmth and luxury. The sheets feel incredibly soft and there’s a scent in the air faintly like sea salt.
Okay… your dorm never smelled like sea salt and you never had sheets this soft.
You open your eyes, blinking slowly against a haze of early light slipping through elegant curtains.
Yep, definitely not Ramshackle.
And this is not your room, much less your bed.
From the décor and the scent in the air… it’s obviously Octavinelle.
Your heart starts hammering, panic rising because you don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, until you feel a weight shift beside you. You turn and see Azul sitting on the bed, already wearing his glasses, hair messy from sleep, reading what you assume are his latest contracts.
He turns his head when he notices you move and smiles at you, a little hesitant but very soft…
Damn, much softer than any smile he’s ever given a client or even his dormmates.
“Ah, good morning” His voice low and honeyed, surprisingly calm for a man who just woke up naked beside you.
Naked
Because yes, Azul’s torso is completely bare, free in all its glory, the sheet very low, too low, barely covering him from the waist down.
And your body is naked too
“Good morning…” is all you manage to say, your voice completely shot, your throat sore.
Your memories come back in swirling flashes: you approaching Azul behind an improvised bar in the middle of the lounge, whispering things to him that obviously had nothing to do with the party and absolutely couldn’t be repeated in broad daylight. His hands guiding you out of the lounge, leading you to his room and devouring your mouth like the hungriest man alive.
His slightly trembling hands stripping you piece by piece, caressing every part he uncovered; the way he adored every curve, the softness of your skin, his mouth lingering with unusual slowness over your chest, his attitude almost devout.
“You’re so soft, so beautiful, it’s… you make me insatiable” his tongue licking your nipple while the other was stroked and lightly twisted by his fingers. Your breasts were the main course for Azul, kissing, licking, biting, every inch of total interest to him.
Your hand in his hair when he moved down to your wet cunt, pulling him closer, asking, begging him to continue, to devour you like you deserved. “More, Azul, please, keep going” The groan he let out reverberated against your clit, his fingers sliding in gently. Your wetness already staining the bed and his face, and like a proper gentleman he didn’t stop until you cum with his face buried between your legs, his tongue cruel on your clit.
His eyes widening when he slided in for the first time, feeling your spongy walls squeeze him everywhere. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands on his back, pulling him toward you to kiss him and let him fucked you however he wanted: slow and deep, savoring every moan, or fast and hard, shouting his name as you cum.
“That’s it, my love, keep going, let me hear how sweetly my siren sings” His cock plunging into you again and again and again, his fluids mixing with yours, bringing you to the next orgasm with his thumb on your clit.
You blush hard, instinctively pulling the sheet up to cover your chest. Azul’s gaze is hungry and devout, but careful. “Are you alright? Are you sore, my siren?”
You open your mouth, only to catch sight of something strange and pink on the skin of your arms, round and vividly colored, like they were made with a lot of pressure and enthusiasm.
You lift your arms, the trail continuing over your chest, shoulders, even down your hips. Beneath the sheets it’s the same—more marks across your thighs. Perfectly scattered, forming a pattern.
The marks are shaped like…
Suction cups?
You look at Azul, who’s gone red with both mortification and fascination. “Uh… those are… yes, they are suction cups.” He brings a hand to his eyes, adjusting his glasses. “My apologies, you were so soft that… I lost control a bit.”
You don’t know whether to laugh or scream from adrenaline.
You choose the first.
A small gasp escapes you, followed by a soft laugh and then a more euphoric one, still not fully processing what’s happening. “You… you marked me? With… your… tentacles?”
HOLY SHIT!!!
More memories crash in like storm waves: Azul holding both your legs with two of his tentacles, spreading you at will, keeping you from closing them while he penetrated you with what you assume was his inseminator tentacle; both coiling over your thighs and squeezing lightly.
The cold, heavy pressure now around your arms, even your neck, as Azul increased the intensity, his tentacle sliding in and out, twisting inside you with inhuman speed. “You look so delicious like this, so helpless, and so mine”
His tongue returning to your breasts while his tentacle curled and explored your interior, tearing scream after scream from you that had to be muffled by another of his tentacles. At first just covering your mouth, but Azul’s gaze when he saw your lips wet from his limbs showed he wanted even more from you.
The wet limb sliding its tip over your mouth, playing with your tongue as if it were another tongue, until reaching your throat and twisting like the one inside your cunt. Both creating waves of pleasure and heat that made you convulse and cum.
“Can you bear it, my siren? I want you to feel what it is to be truly possessed,” the inhuman rhythm as he panted at your ear, his tentacles never stopping, even when you felt him spilled deep inside.
His smile as he watched you tremble, his torso pressed to your back, two tentacles wrapping your waist and keeping you still while he penetrated you again and again, thrusting with undulating movements, the tip of another limb playing with your clit, every contraction pushing your body further past its limit.
“I can give you a cream if you wish,” Azul’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Though you will have to cover yourself quite well for the next few days.”
Still amazed and a bit stunned at what your body endured, you smile, because in the end… your body feels deliciously, painfully satisfied.
You roll onto your side, letting the sheet fall a little more. “I’ll take the cream, but I’m not covering up to my neck.”
“Oh, no?”
“No—” you cough, still feeling the soreness in your throat. “They’re proof the octopus fucked me pretty well.”
He swallows hard, the tips of his ears completely crimson, looking like they might explode.
“Well… if you put it that way… I can’t help but accept that it was a… sublime night.”
10/10
“Impossible not to desire someone like you” His gaze drifts down your breasts, your torso, biting his lip as if wanting to lift the sheet and lose himself between your legs again.
You lean closer, tugging his arm so he falls over you, his glasses crooked on his face. “Impossible not to want you either”
“You are dangerous, you know that? Now it’s going to be impossible for me to concentrate at the Mostro” He kisses you long along the collarbone, his arms wrapping your waist, fingertips stroking your soft skin.
“Oh, poor unfortunate soul~”
You let out a squeak when you feel Azul bite your shoulder.
Kalim
The bright, golden sun wakes you, your eyes opening heavily and almost closing again. Your head hurts like hell and you’re pretty sure that if you move too fast you’ll end up terribly dizzy.
The room smells far too sweet, like coconut, but mixed with spice and turmeric, and the atmosphere is far too soft to be real.
The sheets are just as soft, a kind of silk only found in Arabic countries, accompanied by red and gold accents that definitely don’t belong to your room.
Yeah… you’re in Scarabia.
You stretch and immediately freeze. You feel warmth, but not the kind of warmth from sheets—this is the warmth of another body pressed very close to yours, skin against skin.
And you’re naked and…
OH GOD! The other person is too.
Kalim’s feet, tangled with yours, brush along your legs, waking slowly and pulling you even closer to him.
Your eyes meet his ruby ones and a smile spreads across his face, so radiant and gentle, and he nestles his head even closer to your neck, as if he wanted the two of you to fuse into one.
His hair is completely messy, his skin glowing, and he is absolutely, gloriously, not worried at all about the fact that neither of you is wearing clothes. His hand rests on your hip, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles on your skin.
“Oh! Good morning, my love!” he smiles, his voice still a little rough with sleep. “How is the most beautiful desert's flower feeling?”
“Umm, my head hurts a little.”
“Ah! That’s not good, I’ll see if I can bring you something for the pain.” He barely gets up, the sheet sliding down his torso, leaving him in all his glory… and it keeps dropping.
And more… and more… and more… until he stands fully revealed before you, his cinnamon skin shining in the sunlight.
You make a small sound of surprise, half embarrassment, half delight.
Kalim, already out of bed, turns his back to you, letting you see thin red marks trailing from his shoulders down to his hip; the tattoos on his arms, combined with the shine of leftover sweat, make them look a bit more defined.
Wait… leftover sweat… both of you naked…
“Kalim?”
“Hmm?”
“Did we…? Did we sleep together?”
Kalim moves back toward the bed, kneeling so his face is level with yours. “Yes, my love! We were together all night!” His eyes now show a hint of concern. “You don’t remember?”
You blush instantly, memories from last night flickering behind your eyes: Kalim pulling you onto the dance floor, laughing so much he almost dropped you, but his hands—always soft and steady—keeping you close; every spin among waves of color and music making you dizzy with happiness. A stolen kiss in the middle of a turn, then another, and another… until his lips never left yours while he pinned you against a wall to devour you properly.
“Let me show you how much I desire you” he whispered in your ear once you were naked in his bed, his mouth returning to yours but not staying long; his need now to roam your burning skin while his hand wandered over your stomach until reaching your thighs.
His tongue passing over the hollow of your neck, along the side of your breast, licking one nipple with calm devotion, using your moan to slide a finger along your wet folds, discovering step by step what made you moan more sweetly, what made you arch or beg for more, before even pushing inside or circling your clit.
The warmth of his body in sync with yours, watching how much you enjoyed everything he gave you; you were the most beautiful and exquisite sight he had ever seen. “Come on, qalbi, let go for me, I want to see you tremble with pleasure”
The moment he sat you on top of him, wanting to see your face when he slided in, his hands roaming your body, from your shoulders to your thighs, massaging the softness of your abdomen and the roundness of your breasts. He let you control the rhythm, biting his lip as he watched your body bounce and move over him.
“How beautiful you are… I want to see you like this every day” Kalim’s moans and gasps echoed in the room, his head thrown back, feeling your walls tighten every time you sank his cock deep inside.
The wind raising goosebumps on your skin when he held you against the columns of his window, letting the moonlight outline your figure, a drop of sweat shining as it slid between your breasts and Kalim licking it away; his hands holding your ass while his hips struck as he thrust into you again and again and again.
You remember the moment he cummed inside you, the warmth of his semen filling you, his mouth releasing the sweetest, wildest groan you’d ever heard. Your own orgasm followed soon after thanks to his skilled thumb and his fervent need to see you cum with his cock still inside.
Even after he’d finished and you were both breathless, Kalim didn’t want to leave your warmth, moving his hips slightly just so you’d feel him hardening again inside your walls. “I’m not satisfied yet, qalbi, I want more of you”
Both of you in bed, sweaty and panting; Kalim kissing your hands, your stomach, collecting with his fingers the mess sliding from your cunt, staining the expensive sheets, and bringing it to his mouth, looking straight at you as he tasted it.
The heat between your thighs intensifies when Kalim kisses your forehead, realizing you’re getting lost in the indecent memories. “Did I exhaust you?”
“I...I guess...a little, yes.”
“Stay right here, I’ll be back.”
You watch him grab a pair of boxers from the floor and barely pull some pants on before leaving the room. After a little while, he comes back carrying a glass of fruity liquid and something for your headache.
Oh gods, what a sweetheart
Little by little your pain fades and you can melt even deeper into the soft bed; your heart flutters when Kalim lies back down, pulling you close and hugging you as if afraid you might disappear at any moment.
What a pleasant moment…
Your stomach tightens when his hand slides along your inner thigh. “Kalim—”
“You’re so beautiful when you’re nervous, look at you, all flushed! I want you to relax even more, qalbi.”
Before you can answer, his fingers are already brushing your sensitive cunt; you gasp, your hips arching unconsciously.
Kalim’s lips curve into a mischievous, charming smile. “You’re still wet? Did you miss me, my love?”
He kisses you slowly and deeply, his fingers never stopping their soft circles before sliding into your cunt again. You melt feeling him in the morning light, pleasure right at the surface.
Your fingers run through the white strands of his hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss, Kalim moans against your mouth and you answer by biting his lower lip.
The whole room seems to turn golden as the two of you lose yourselves in each other again, tangled in the sheets.
Epel
The sweet, fresh smell of apples fills the air, mixed with the warm fragrance of clean sheets and some natural, expensive undertones…
You don’t even need to open your eyes to know you’re not in your cold, poorly kept dorm.
The second thing you allow yourself to feel is your dry mouth, your head pounding from every possible angle.
And the third is the brush of a naked leg against your thigh, and uneven breathing behind your neck.
You open your eyes slowly, blinking at the damn light slipping through the light, characteristically expensive Pomefiore curtains, and turn your head. Epel is asleep on his stomach, one hand in his tangled hair; his leg so shamelessly stretched to rest between your bare thighs.
AHHHHHHH BARE!!
Your whole body is naked and if you look at Epel’s body again—especially his chest rising and falling in a quiet breath—you’ll see he’s naked too.
You also notice thin scratched lines, suspiciously like the kind made by nails, and a fairly large purplish hickey in the hollow between his shoulder and neck.
SHIT… Vil is going to kill me
“Fuck…”
It was just a tiny groan, nothing loud, but enough to wake the lavender-haired boy. He opens one eye, and when he sees you looking at him, he jolts, a mix of embarrassment and shock.
“HOLY SHIT!”
Okay, his came out louder.
You both stare at each other, him trying to cover his modesty with the blanket already sprawled across the bed, his face completely red up to his ears; meanwhile, you’re processing the disaster.
“So… we… we did a… thing… right?”
“Uh… I guess? I remember… a couple things…”
Slowly, and with your head still throbbing, the memories return in flashes: the exact moment Epel, already heated by alcohol and excitement, caught you in his arms in the middle of the party, not caring who was watching, and pulled you tight against him, devouring your mouth right on the dance floor.
His audacity dragging you outside the lounge, not giving a damn that Vil was watching from the other end and shouting that “that’s no way to treat a lady”; Epel simply flipping him off while still kissing you and sliding his hand onto your ass, even sneaking it under your pants to pull you closer.
“I’m not stopping, I want you all to myself, now,” the way he slammed you against the wall the second you reached his room, stripping your clothes with trembling hands but completely sure of what he wanted. The desire to have you naked and screaming for him so everyone in the dorm would hear who was fucking you so good.
His hands squeezing and marking with desperate urgency, wanting to feel you arch and tremble under him; his nails scraping your thighs while he spread your legs without asking, his fingers sliding between your cunt.
His digits, at first two, then three, moving in and out with such obscene ease that even the small wet sounds from you didn’t improve your pathetic situation; and on top of that making a mess on the floor with your fluids running down your legs and splashing the carpet.
You remember when he grabbed your waist and spun you suddenly, pressing you face-first to the wall with your ass perfectly positioned for him, his cock entering your cunt in a first thrust that tore a raw, overflowing moan from you.
“That’s it, my häschen, moan louder, let the whole dorm hear you” he fucked you in a frantic rhythm, both hands gripping your hips so hard they left finger marks on your skin, pulling you back into him so his cock disappeared into your wet, spongy walls.
The warmth of his chest against your back when he leaned in to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it, pinching your nipple between his fingers. His pants at your ear, his teeth leaving marks on your shoulder and neck.
The moment your walls tightened harder around him, your orgasm coming, and that same hand dropping to your clit, making fast, merciless circles to push you over quicker. “Yes! Yes, Epel… fuck! Don’t—don’t stop”
The cry of pleasure on your lips when you cum, Epel still buried deep inside you; his thrusts didn’t stop, he kept going to the limit, making you shake and beg. “Gods! Sevens… Epel, give me a sec! I need a sec—”
“No, no, no, beautiful, I’m gonna make you cum again, give me everything, häschen,” his own voice turning rougher and wilder as he fucked you harder and faster.
The way he fucked you not just against the wall but also on the floor, his cock sliding even deeper when he lifted your legs to place them over his shoulders. His pelvis deliciously brushing your sensitive clit.
Epel holding your hips open while the heat of his semen spilled inside your cunt, his teeth biting your shoulder, and in a spasm, your breast.
You return to this morning, Epel avoiding your eyes and curling himself into a small bundle in the sheets. “At least I wasn’t a disaster, right?”
“N-no!! No, you were…”
Great? Amazing? Way bolder than I thought?
“Yeah...yeah you were really bold…”
“…that’s good, or bad?”
“It’s good, Epel!”
The moment is a bit awkward, but sincere and sweet and that’s all that matters.
“Okay, okay, I think I can come out of this victorious”
That’s the spirit
You settle against his shoulder, grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around both of you. It’s warm and he is too; maybe this calm is exactly what you need for your terrible headache.
Though there’s one small problem left to solve.
“OH SHIT!! VIL IS GOING TO KILL ME WHEN HE SEES ME.”
Yup… that little problem.
And let’s be honest, you took the night to “ruin” Epel’s image too with the scratches and the hickey.
Good luck.
Sebek
The first sound you hear when you wake isn’t birds or the sun coming through the window. It’s a crash: a low, guttural groan mixed with the creak of the bed, followed by a snort so loud even the pillow trembles.
You feel the sheet tangled around your waist, your body sticky with sweat, your hair a mess, and a huge hand gripping your thigh so tightly it’s like it wants to hold you forever.
You open your eyes, trying to focus through the sunlight slipping past the curtains into a room… far too dark…
And...gothic? Very refined, actually.
You look down, the sheets just as dark, the structural wood of the bed dark too… it’s like being inside a gothic and rather expensive dream.
Ah, and by the way your torso is bare, the sheets only covering your legs…
And yep, underneath those you’re naked too.
You cover your chest, noticing finger marks, bites, burning skin, and swollen lips (and a bit dry).
You turn your head and see Sebek, eyes wide as saucers, his chest bare too, skin dotted with bites and scratches that who knows where they came from.
Spoiler alert: it was your own nails, during a moment so out of control and pleasurable, that created such a masterpiece.
“AH!” he shouts, voice loud and raw. “W-what…?”
His morning-rough voice comes out with some alarm… only to end in a small howl of pure embarrassment.
You try to speak, but only a hoarse sigh comes out. Your head throbs, your body burns, and your groin pulses and tingles.
Holy… shit…
The silence lasts barely a second before Sebek starts unleashing a torrent of rushed words, practically yelling, red to the roots of his electric-green hair.
A green so intense it hurts to look at right now with this massive headache.
“I-it is not proper for a gentleman! I have committed an unforgivable error! Miss, I swear by the Great Lord Malleus that I would never…!”
“FUCK… DON’T SHOUT SO LOUD!! MY HEAD IS SPLITTING!”
Absolute silence when you bring your hands to your temples, trying to ease the pain by pressing them.
Silence… silence… only silence is needed.
Your memory returns in flashes: you remember pulling Sebek to dance, even if only for a few minutes… or a few songs?… in the middle of the improvised dance floor, though honestly… you weren’t expecting to dance with him, but to feel his big, strong, calloused hands hold your hips while you whispered things to him (things you definitely can’t say out loud), watching him blush.
The moment Sebek, also weakened by the alcohol, lifted you into his arms without any care, as if you weighed no more than a feather. His heavy, loud breathing at your neck while he kissed you, his long, powerful strides taking you out of the lounge and into the darkness of his room.
“I cannot stop, this is not the conduct of an honorable knight… but I desire you too much,” those same hands roaming every part of your body almost desperately, squeezing, scratching, leaving red marks on your thighs and sides, unable to measure his strength.
The moment you took his hands and placed them on your breasts, teaching him how to touch you, how to make you arch and moan and gasp under his touch, Sebek learning like a proper knight and like the lover he wanted to be for his sweet maiden, feeling your warmth beneath his fingertips.
The same happened when you guided his hand to your stomach, sliding it slowly so he could feel you tremble when his fingers found your clit. “You need to do it slowly first, feel how I get wet when you touch me like that” Slowly, learning, feeling his fingers grow slick while he brushed your wet folds uncertainly.
You remember his clumsy but very hungry mouth moving down your breasts, biting your nipple until you moaned and kissing the mark when he released it, then doing the same to the other.
The moment you sat astride him, positioning your wet cunt over his already painfully hard, needy cock. Your hand sliding down his broad chest, over his stomach, which tensed when he felt your nails scrape his skin; the warmth of your hand when you wrapped it around his cock and stroked him.
His eyes barely open as you moved your hand up and down over him, watching shamelessly as he melted beneath you, barely holding back before finishing in your hand.
The moment you rode him, at first slowly, your nails digging into his chest, Sebek’s muscles tense and his mouth open, moaning louder than you thought possible. “Oh, seven… more—don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”
The wild rhythm of your hips slamming against his, both bodies colliding hard, the mattress squealing; your drops so rough you could feel him deep inside, his cock deliciously opening you, your own body seeking to feel more and more of him.
Sweat running down his neck, so perfect shining in the dim light of the room, that you couldn’t help but lean down and run your tongue over his skin, your clit brushing his stomach, your breasts pressing against his chest. The new angle letting him go deeper and pound your sensitive spot.
“I don’t… I don’t think I can hold on much longer!” and that was the last thing he said before grabbing your hips and moving you at a speed you never could have reached on your own.
The moment you both cum at the same time, so strong and explosive that you simply collapsed on top of him, your clit throbbing against his stomach; Sebek trembling as he spilled inside you, his semen slipping from your entrance down your legs, a nearly beastlike groan and his whole body shaking with pure pleasure.
“We did something… inappropriate… didn’t we?” Sebek’s low, defeated and astonished voice breaks through your indecent memories.
You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or hide your face again.
“Y-yeah… uh… yeah, we did”
Keep your breathing steady, your head doesn’t hurt as much now, but anything you say could ruin the morning.
“But… I don’t think it was inappropriate”
He stays silent, swallowing. He searches your eyes for any hint of insecurity or regret… and he thinks he finds none.
“Was it… something good? Did I hurt you at any point?”
The unexpected tenderness hits your chest; you take his hand and your fingers squeeze his tightly. “You didn’t hurt me at all… it was just… intense.”
“Intense?”
“Mhm… you left me shaking.”
You see him relax a little… juuust a little, still unable to believe what he just lived through.
Putting the drama aside… it was the best fuck either of you ever had in your lives… and you were his first time.
Congratulations!!
Now get out of the room and figure out how to explain to the whole dorm Sebek’s very uncommon and very not-family-friendly screams.
they say your spouse's sleeping posture or habits tell what kind of a person they are
and oh boy...
"augh...*hack* damn..."
so what does it mean when your spouse who has either golden retriever energy or black cat energy (up to you), is quite literally enveloping you with his big, muscular body
he was sleeping so soundly too that you were more concerned over him not getting enough sleep instead of you almost suffocating
but hey he's warm
"mmm...soft...warm..."
he was mumbling in his sleep and with the way he was hugging you and caressing your body you pretty much guessed he was dreaming about you. cute as if that didn't melt your heart
for some reason he just slid downwards while he was in very very deep sleep and sluggishly climbed on top of you, with his head on your heart and his body snuggled between your legs
cracking a soft smile you threaded your fingers through his hair and gently scratched his head
"love..." you heard him say before his breathing evened out
"good night to us too"
kaeya, DILUC, zhongli, CHILDE, capitano, neuvillette, WRIOTHESLEY, VARKA, PHAINON, mydei, ASHVEIL, JING YUAN, blade(?), DIAVOLO, BEELZEBUB, malleus, LEONA, JACK, idia (trust i know he hides them pecs under those hoodies), CALEB, RAFAYEL, zayne, YUUJI
Names that get them flustered featuring: Idia, Leona, Jack, and Trey
Idia: darling
Now while just calling him darling can get him a little pink
It’s the equivalent of having an SSR card with zero build!
there’s a method
Hit him with a sultry tone and some Jessica rabbit type antics
Lean in grab his chin and and put some work into the act when you whisper out “darling”
I’d say he melts but he quite literally burns
Idia just wanted to enjoy his game peacefully, you slamming his door open and asking for some gummy worms was not an uncommon attack combo but of course the only sensible answer was “LMAO get your own loser”
You knew he meant it lovingly of course, but still, where did that blushing shy mess from when you were first dating go!? You love your boyfriend in all his stages but a little attempt for a blast to the past wouldn’t hurt would it?
The beat of silence was raising some major red flags then he heard you start stepping closer, his first reaction was to steel his grip to protect his snacks (he’d let you have them any day of course but he’s your boyfriend it’s literally his job to put up a fight) what he didn’t expect was his chin to be tilted upwards “Can I have some? Please? darling~” a slight cringe struck you at the foxy tone you used but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it, why?
Because you sure as hell didn’t get those gummy worms, Idia froze and his hair went into a pink and red blaze so large he burned the damn bag. Hey, at least you got to role play as a fire fighter with Ortho IRL right?
Leona: Kitty
He’s not easy to fluster
Chances of you seeing this guy off guard are close to zero
But stop treating him like a big scary lion
And start teasing him like your all roar no bite boyfriend
And maybe you’ll see a little something
Just kidding! he’s turning around before you see anything
You stretch and a yawn escapes you, Leona can be a pain in the ass when it comes to convincing him to study with you but it’s always fruitful when he agrees, he does know all the course work you have to do after all.
“Its getting dark I gotta head back to ramshackle before grim throws a fit, see ya tomorrow?” You say packing your things and standing up, he huffs in response “yeah yeah don’t trip on your way out” you just let a laugh out through your nose. “You know a ‘I love you’ would suffice just fine next time kitty” ruffling his hair as you walk down out, you don’t bother looking back.
If only you did, the slightest pink dusting Leona’s face and his disgruntled expression would have been well worth the toll of the study session.
Jack: Big Boy
Jack is well aware of his large stature
But he’s never met anyone who talks about it like you do
For someone so confident in his build you have one heck of a talent for using it against him
Too bad wolves mate for life so he’s stuck with you! (He’s right where he wants to be)
Jack loves mornings like these with you, those rare instances where you convince him to stay over at Ramshackle and he in turn convinces you to wake up early to run with him. Peaceful balance in those quiet mornings where you get ready together…But what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t ruin that peace and quiet?
Jack is absolutely adorable when he’s rambling on about workout plans for the two of you and what he plans to do for the day it just gets a little hard to take him seriously. “And after a cool down lap we can jog back to Ramshackle to get ready for first period.” Ah You zoned out thinking about how adorable he was, a worryingly common occurrence. “Alright big boy what ever floats your boat” you laugh resting your hands on his chest.
“…huh?” Absolute utter stillness. His body goes rock stiff for a hot second before his tail starts trying to take flight, the rest of him doesn’t get the memo though as he just stays still with red slowly crawling up his cheeks…did you break him?
Trey: Hubby
He’s pretty level headed
Pretty hard to catch him off guard
But he’s not immune to your charms thats for sure
It’s not too hard paint this clover pink!
Baking with trey is enjoyable for quite a few reasons namely getting some delectable sweet treats and spending some time with your boyfriend, it’s the pinnacle of domesticity really. Getting to swap sugar covered kisses and playful banter and in the midsts of it…
“You know Riddles gonna have our heads if these tarts are messed up and I’ll blame you if that happens” he lightly chuckles “excuse me?” You gasp “I’ve been nothing but helpful!” “Helpful AND distracting, you’re a bit too good looking for your own good.” He replies, if he thinks he can get away with trying to tease you with no retaliation he’s sorely mistaken “well better get used to it hubby because I plan to keep distracting you for a real long time.”
He freezes for a second and his eyes widen before he makes a sound that sounds like a choked out mix between a cough and a low laugh into his fist. “Guess I will huh..” his face is as pink as the frosting for a minute before he goes back to mostly normal. For the sake of his cool calm collected image don’t point out his slightly shaky hands or any stolen glances at your ring finger alright?
