1976

[youremagicmoony]

You were currently in the process of winding down, going through your skincare routine while your boyfriend, Robby kept an eye on you from where he sat on the edge of the bed. He enjoyed watching, his eyes following the movements of your hands as they brushed through your hair, how you held so very still as you applied the different serums and creams, your gaze held focused on your own reflection, you just looked so real, he thought, so in your own world. But you of course noticed him, noticed his gaze on you, the way he sat hunched over at the edge of the bed, hoodie half unzipped elbows resting on his knees as his hands held his face, keeping it propped up.you saw how he tried to stifle a yawn, how his head hug down as pressed the palms of his hands into his eyesockets as if trying to momentarily will the day away. “Hey.” You say softly, trying to get his attention as you finish up with yourself in the mirror,  flicking off the light in the adjoined bathroom before moving to lean against the doorframe. Robby's head lifting slowly at the sound of your voice, the scruff of his beard grazing his palms as he dragged his hand down his face before using it to prop up his chin as he looked at you, his eyes glassy and the bags under them looking darker than before. Swallowing the lump in his throat that seemed to have been lingering there all day, before gruffly speaking. “C’mere.” He ordered gently as his hand that wasn't currently being used to hold his head up was now lifting to reach out in your direction, beckoning you closer, and who were you to deny him, so you padded over. 

Once you were within reach, his calloused fingers wrapped comfortably around your wrist, tugging you carefully closer to him until you stood between his bent knees. Only then did he straighten up a little, his arms finding their way around your waist in an almost bear hug as his face buried into your upper stomach, his bread scratching over the fabric of your top as he pulled you closer, if that was even possible. Your hands naturally moved, sliding over his upper arms, his shoulders and around to the back of his head as one hand cradled the base of his skull as the other gently started to comb through his hair. The silence of the evening lingering between the two of you before you dared to break it again. “Darling? You alright?” You finally ask, knowing the answer by his grip on you alone. Robby didn't answer right away, instead taking in a deep inhale as his thumb started to stroke back and forth over the curve of your hip, his eyes squeezed tightly closed like he was trying to block out any thoughts that dared interrupt this moment. The same words that had been swirling around in his head all day, maybe all week, truthfully longer than that. I'm not sure I want to be anywhere right now. He took another deep breath, trying to concentrate on you, on the smell of you, the smell that lingered on his clothes and sheets, the smell that made the muscles in his shoulders relax a little, and made him feel at home. Robby finally lifted his head, just enough to peer up at you from under his unfairly long and thick lashes, those glossy, pupils blown, pitifully pleading eyes that had your heartstrings feeling as if they had almost been ripped straight out of your chest. Your hand in his hair stilling and instead sliding down to cradle the side of his face, his cheek in the palm of your hand as you looked down at him, worried flickering in your eyes as you couldn't help the way your brows knitted together in concern for him. Robby felt his own heart ache at the sight of you looking so worried about you even if he did sometimes think your concerned pout was cute. Slowly turning his head in your hold, his beard tickling your skin as his lips came to press lightly into the warm space of your palm, letting his eyes fall closed a beat longer than necessary between blinks as his lips lingered there before pulling away only to nuzzle right back into your body. Though now his face pressed closer to your chest, cheek smushed up against your sternum as his arms locked around you. One of his hands moved up to press between your shoulder blades as the other held tight around your waist, holding you as closely to him as he could in this position as you stood between his spread legs. A few moments passed, a deep breath in and a deep breath out, his face pressed close as he listened to the steady beating of your heart and just when you were about to ask again if he was okay, he spoke. “Right here.” He mumbled into your chest, turning his head to press his lips right over your heart through the fabric of your top. “Just…just want to be right here.” The words coming out a whisper, like they were a secret or some birthday wish he was scared to say too loudly in fear that it wouldn't come true, as in this moment right here was where he wanted to be, the only place he wanted to be, with you. 

(I don't know if this made much sense, and I swear I'm not trying to be insensitive to the severity of the scene im referring to in this, I just thought it would be a nice possible alternative perspective, like maybe in another universe he got to come home and have this moment instead of going off on his sabbatical. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and if you have any thoughts or ideas feel free to let me know.) 

[youremagicmoony]

He had been minding his business, he really had, for once in his life. Jack stood there, toothbrush in hand as he lent forward, looking at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. His salt and pepper curls a little disheveled from having his hand run through them throughout his shift, his eyes squinting a little at his own reflection, brows pinching just a fraction as he looked over his face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the new wrinkles that had started to form and others that deepened around his eyes. Letting out a sigh as he spit some of the foam out and into the sink before continuing to brush, making sure he went all the way to the back teeth. At the sound of soft shuffling, his ears pricked up, eyes shifting in the mirror to catch the movement as you came into view, making your way into the bathroom. Jack slowly turned, resting his hip against the edge of the sink as his gaze fully landed on you, his hand letting go of the toothbrush in favor of reaching for you, the handle of the brush still striking out of his mouth as his fingers slipped around your wrist, catching it in his hold as he gently tugged you towards him. You smelled like sleep and warmth, your own hair messy from sleep and ticking his chin as he pulled you into his chest, tucking you into him as his arms circled over your shoulders, keeping you trapped to him. You could feel your chest pressed to his through the fabric of your shirt, his shirt that you had stolen to sleep in because it was big and cozy and smelled like him. Your eyes still lingered with the haze of sleep, your day just starting as his was about to end, your arms finding their way around his hips, hugging him in return as you brushed your lips to his chest before lifting your chin up and tilting your head back to look up at him even as your chest remained pressed to him. 

“I have to tell you something.” you say, seemingly out of the blue, causing jack to frown just slightly as he looked down at you, lips curving downwards as his eyes flickered over your face, trying to decipher your words and figure out how serious you were being, if the way his heart rate went up at those words was indeed necessary. His arms wrapped around your shoulders giving a light squeeze in anticipation for you to continue as his hand back to the handle of the toothbrush to resume his brushing. You let the silence linger for a few beats, building the tension before exhaling and straightening up just a little as if this was indeed a very serious matter, like you needed to get whatever was weighing on your chest, off. “I have a crush on you.” You admit, the words coming out like you had just revealed some deep secret about yourself, your eyes staying locked on his face to catch his reaction, and oh was it one to see. Jack's hand stilled on the toothbrush, his eyes widening as he blinked like you had just told him the sky was green, because were you joking? The tips of his ears turned pink as he farrowed his brow, he opened his mouth to say something but then remembered the toothpaste foam that was currently filling his mouth and moved to spit it out in the sink, finally relinquishing his hold on you long enough to do so. Rinsing the toothpaste down the drain and putting his toothbrush back in is holder before turning aback to you, he lent back against the sink, arms crossing over his chest as he tried desperately to look as unaffected by your words as possible, but the amusement that danced in his eyes gave him away. “Me?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant with the clarification but there was a gentleness to his tone like he couldn't help but feel honored, touched by the thought alone. When your teeth sunk into your lower lip, failing miserably to hide your smile as you nodded in conformation, that was the last straw. Jack's hands finding their way to either side of your face, large palms covering most of your face as he cradled your head between them, his lips finding yours as kissed you. His eyes squeezed closed as he held you like you were the most precious thing known man and to him you were his lisp pressing to yours as if he could pour all his love for you into that singular kiss. Pulling back just enough to breath as his forehead rested against yours, refusing to let even a breath pass between you right now, the corners of his mouth now curved upwards into a smug little smirk as his eyes took in your now glistening lips, pinkened cheeks and wide pupils, ducking his head back down to press a peck to the corner of your mouth, before exhaling and whispering softly. “I have a crush on you too.” His words made your heart flutter despite their simplicity, but then again your husband did always manage to make your heart beat faster. 

(More of a soft smitten Jack abbot, because why not. Thoughts and ideas are always welcome, and I hope you enjoyed it.) 

[youremagicmoony]

It was a relatively normal day in Oceanside, you were sitting on the couch, half watching some animal documentary you had turned on because you knew Andrew would like it. He had sat close to you, his eyes on the screen as your legs had laid over his lap, his rough hands resting on the soft skin of your shin as his thumb rhythmically brushed back and forth. But he had gotten a phone call, one that made him get up and take it outside, it wasn't as if he was hiding anything, he just didn't want to disrupt your movie watching experience with his phone call, or at least that's how he saw it. A few shouts later and a slamming of the sliding door, he returned back inside, his shoulders square and jaw tightly locked in place, he came back over to the couch, sitting back down with possibly too much control, like he was trying to contain a strom between his two bare hands. His movements still stiff as he reached for your legs, bringing them back to his lap with more care than necessary, like even with all that he was keeping contained you were the one thing being gentle with came naturally. His hands resting on your knees like he needed the contact to ground him, his back straight and his chest rising and falling with noticeably more effort, while his gaze practically burned holes into the TV screen. You noticed, of course and could only stay quiet for so long, so slowly you moved a little closer, eyes lingering on his side profile, tracing the line of his clenched jaw. “Andy?” Your tone is intentionally soft, like approaching a cornered animal, and it seems to get though whatever chaos was swirling around in his head as he turned his face fractionally in your direction, his lips still tightly pressed together and his gaze looking focused while also distant. You're tempted to say more, to remind him that you're here if he wants to talk, if he needs anything, but you know he knows that by now. But as you look at his set expression, the anger practically vibrating off of him, you mind yourself doing something stupid, so stupid you should probably be sent away because what on god's green earth possessed you to do such a thing, but before you could logically think it through, your hand was raising. Your soft delicate hand lifting up as you extend your pointer finger and lightly tap the tip of your finger to the end of his now, a boop if you will. You just booped Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody on the nose, did you have a god damn death wish? Maybe, but you had lived to tell the tale, somehow, you're not quite sure how actually, not even sure what you had just done. And it seemed Andrew was just as floored, as he stills, almost a flinch but not quite, it had taken a while but he was learning your touch didn't come with pain or a price. His eyes narrowed a fraction more as he looked at you as if you had just unplugged him, his brain blue screening for a second, but then it happened, his shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched and the corners of his mouth twitch, like even he found some humor in the absurdity of the situation. Moving closer, he folded himself into you, hands sliding up your legs to your hips and settling there as he pressed his face into your chest cuddling into you. Your hands naturally found their way into his hair, fingers threading through dark auburn curls as you held him close, feeling the anger seeping out of him with every second that passed. 

So maybe it has become a little bit of a habit now. Whenever Andrew got frustrated or angry, not when it was about legitimate stuff, not if someone's life was actually in danger, but when it was about the littler things, when his jaw would clench and he would get that murderous look in his eyes and grumpy little pout on his lips, you found yourself tapping your finger to the end of his nose, and he would melt. Someone had bought the wrong bread for sandwiches, his shoulders tense, scowl in place, then you booping the end of his nose and he softened, listened to you as you suggested a quick trip back to the shops to rectify it, his arms linked around your waist as he nodded along. The weather was bad and ruined his plans to skate, stewing by the kitchen island, too caught up in his own thoughts until he felt the tap to his nose, and before he knew it, his shoulders had dropped and he was nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a soft curve to the corner of his lips. You didn't quite understand it but one little boop from you and he softened, his narrowed eyes turned to those sweet little puppy eyes you adored so much. So what if booping a hardened felon on the nose when they got angry wasn't what most did, it's what you did, and it worked. 

(This was inspired by Kate and Anthony from Bridgerton and how she boops that little Englishman. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please feel free to let me know your thoughts and ideas.) 

[youremagicmoony]

It was a few minutes to midnight by the time Robinavitch, your workaholic boyfriend walked through the front door. He had tried to leave at an appropriate time, he really had, but it was the pitt after all, so that of course didn't end up happening. You however had managed to go to bed at a reasonable hour after getting home, making dinner and having a lovely nice and warm shower. So when the front door opened, you were curled up in your soft bedsheets and fluffy blanket that lingered with the mixed scent of both your shampoos. Robby toeing off his shoes at the door and gently nudging them to the side, out of the walkway before making his way further into the house, his shoulders sleumped with the weight of exhaustion as his feet dragged a little over the hard wooden flooring. Slipping off his backpack and placing it onto the kitchen counter as he rummaged through it to pull out his lunch bag, taking out the plastic containers before giving them a quick rinse and putting them in the sink to deal with properly in the morning. He then turned his attention to the stove where a pot of spaghetti bolognese, courtesy of you, sat covered by a lid. The corners of his eyes softening at the sight because of course you had cooked enough for the both of you and of course you had left it out for him, knowing he would be too tired to cook when he got home and being all too familiar with his poor eating habits you had cooked something you knew he liked. Moving to turn on the stove to heat up the food with one hand whilst the other went to pull open the utensils draw, but in his exhausted state he had completely forgotten that the had broken only a day or two ago, so as he pulled, using the normal amount of strength, the whole draw came flying out and clattering to the floor. “Fuck. God, damn it.” He cursed, muttering to himself as his head tilted, almost seeming to wince at the noise. He had been trying to be quiet, moving around in the dimly lit kitchen, knowing that you were in bed and not wanting to wake you on his return home, but now with spoons and forks scattered on the floor he was pretty sure he had failed. Crouching down he gathered the utensils, cleaning up the mess he had made as he felt the long hours of his shift settle further into his bones. 

Finally getting the draw back in order, he stood at the stoke, watching over the pot as he waited for the spaghetti to reheat. His blinks slow as his frame almost swayed a little where he stood, exhaling slow through his nose before his breath stilled in his lungs for a second as he felt a press to his back, his eyes flicking down as he saw small soft hands creep around his waist and settle over the zipper of his hoodie, right over his stomach. His shoulders relaxing just a fraction at the sight alone, feeling his heart beating with what felt like more ease than it had been a moment ago. “ ‘m sorry.” He exhaled the apology, a pang of guilt flickering in his chest as he knew he must have woken you with the noise. Instead of an answer, he felt the press of your face into his back as you hugged him tighter from behind, humming into his back. Robby's hand drifted to turn off the heat of the stove as he took a beat to just enjoy the feel of you pressed to his back, but before long he was turning in your hold, his own hands finding their way to you as one reached up to cradle your cheek in his hand as he gazed down at you, feeling your soft cheek in his hold made his chest feel looser than it had been all day. His eyes looked tired but fond as they softened at the corners the second they landed on yours, his thumb stroking gently under your eye where sleep still lingered, god you were just so precious, so soft and warm in his hands and you smelt good, so good. He tried to hold back from just burying his face in the crook of your neck, possibly his favourite place in the world, but it was too hard. His head ducking down as his hand slid to the back of your head as he buried into the junction between neck and shoulder, the spot where he could feel your pulse flutter under skin and where your perfume always seemed to linger, his eyes falling closed as he finally allowed himself to collapse into you, your arms quickly moving to wrap tightly around him as his fingers tangled into your hair. 

The both of you standing there, Robby leaning his weight onto you whilst you gently stroked up and down his back. After a little while you finally spoke. “Sweetheart, you should eat some dinner.” Robby hesitated, not at all keen on the idea of not holding onto you or having to go without being held by you for even a second, not after the day he had had. Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting on your kitchen counter just after midnight watching your boyfriend eat reheated spaghetti bolognese out of the pot while he stood between your thighs. 

(This was cuter in my head, but I hope you get the general idea. If you have any thoughts, opinions or suggestions, please feel free to let me know. Hope you enjoyed.) 

[youremagicmoony]

The sun was currently high in the sky, the air smelling of sunscreen and sweat. You and Andrew were taking a rest inside, sheltered away from the shine of the sun, you sat comfortably in his lap. Andrew was resting back against the cushions of his couch, while you sat perched atop him, your knees bent and pressing into the cushions on either side of his thighs. Your hands resting lazily on his chest as you chatted away. “I dont know, i feel like i never know my style.” your voice is casual as you mused aloud. “I feel like I want to dress up all feminine and soft but then I also want to wear those cool band tees.” you rambled aloud, talking your thoughts out, it was a habit by now, you chatting, filling the silence with whatever happened to come to mind, whatever topic took your interest, while Andrew happily listened along. Truthfully he was just happy to be here, resting back against the couch, finally having a moment where he wasn't needed for a job or some ominous vaguely described assignment, and best of all you were here with him. His hands resting just above your knees, his warm rough palms pressed to the soft skin as thick fingers gently stroked up and down your thighs, the touch light and soothing, like he was simply allowing himself the time to marvel at you and the way you felt under his hands. His eyes were strained on you like they always were, watching how your mouth formed around your words as he took in the moment, part of him still not quite believing his own senses, because you were really here, straddling his thighs, talking freely without a care in the world as he caressed your legs, shivering just slightly every time his fingertips would brush that little bit closer to the hem of your skirt that was bunched up around your hips and waist, the touch not intended to lead to anything more, just simply wanting to explode your soft skin, wanting to memorize it. 

“I just don't think I know what aesthetic is me, I mean I like so many different types, you know.” You continued on, one hand lifting from his chest to run through your hair, combing your fingers through it as you felt the slightly sweat damp strands at the nape of your neck. “I think you always look pretty.” Andrew's voice was low but his tone soft, like it was a confession rather than a compliment. Your hand halts in your hair as the words falling from your lips pause as your gaze drops to his face, the corners of your lips involuntarily twitching upwards. It wasn't like he didn't compliment you, he did, often, but it was something about his tone and the way he was looking at you know, his gaze locked on your neck from under his lashes, like he didn't dare meet your eyes, like he was almost scared he had misstepped, that he had somehow broken the spell that seemed to be cast over this simple moment between you two. His hands momentarily stilling on your thighs like he was preparing to pull away, bracing for something, as if half expecting you to reprimand him for interrupting you, or for voicing his opinion without it being asked for. But instead your hand fell from your hair and moved to cup his cheek, gently tilting it always enough as you guided his gaze to meet your own, a soft smile playing on your lips as you brushed your thumb over the corner of his lips, your tongue peeking out to wet your own before you spoke again. 

“I think you're pretty too.” voice quite almost mirroring his whisper as your gaze held his. Andrew almost swore his heart stopped beating for a second as your words reached his ears, which was silly because you had called him pretty before, quite a few times honestly, but it still seemed to have quite the effect on him. But in all fairness how could it not when you where looking at him like that, when you where touching him so softly, your thumb tracing the line of his lower lip, and the way you had said it, so soft and sweet and god he was so lucky, how did he get this lucky, you, his beautiful angel faced, sweet girl,  were sitting on his lap calling him pretty. You caught the way the corner of his lips twitch in a barely suppressed smile and how his cheeks seemed to pinken a shade, completely unrelated to the heat, and most importantly how his eyes seemed to shine and how his head tiled into your touch. Before you could think to say anything else Andrew's arms were wrapping around you, one around your waist, the other tangling in your hair as he cradled the back of your head, pulling you down until your chest was pressed to his. His face moving to bury in your neck as if to try and hide from the rise of emotions that seemed to be bubbling up inside of him as he led you close. And despite the heat you didn't dare move a centimeter, rather turning your head just enough to press a kiss to his head before whispering into his hair, voice slightly muffled by the auburn curls. “My pretty boy.” 

(I'm only on the second season of Animal Kingdom so I'm sorry if this is very far from canon, but please don't take it too seriously. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, please let me know if you have any thoughts or ideas.)  

[youremagicmoony]

Tonight was one of the nights you were sleeping over at your boyfriend Langdon's place. 

It had been a long day and you both just wanted to be in each other's presents, eating leftovers and watching some corny romcom he had sworn he was only watching for your sake, but the slight sheen in his eyes at the ending begged to differ. Now you two were out cold, legs tangled together under the sheets as his arms were wrapped securely around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and his nose buried in your hair, despite the heat of the summer he still clung to you like the drowning man clinging to a liferaft. His deep breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back was a comforting rhythm, his soft snores in your ear, they used to wake you but now they seemed more like your own personal lullaby. As nice as it was, being cuddled up with him like this, the heat was starting to get to you even with the ac blasting, your throat felt dry and you could start to feel sweat decorating your skin where your back was pressed to his chest. So reluctantly you opened your eyes, met with the darkness of the bedroom, slowly moving, trying to untangle your legs from his and gently pry his arms from your waist, which was a more delicate and difficult procedure than open heart surgery, or so you believe. Slipping out of bed as you pad through the apartment, knowing the layout by heart after spending enough nights this month sleeping over, and making your way to the kitchen in search of a glass, hoping a drink of water might be the solution. Having just procured a glass from the cabinet and turned to the sink, turning on the tap you hear the dull thud of sleepy footsteps moving through the apartment and closer to your location. Turning the tap off once your glass is full and lifting it to your lips, you take a sip, letting the cool liquid sooth your throat as your eyes linger closed a beat longer than normal between blinks as you savor the relief before slowly turning in the direction of the footsteps. Your stomach doing that silly little flutter as your eyes land on the sight in front of you, your boyfriend, your darling boyfriend standing there, hair sticking up in all different directions, shoulders slumped with exhaustion, his sleep shirt, one of those old graphic tees that has some corny medical pun written across the front ‘Im an EMTerrific guy’ slipping forward and exposing a sliver of his collarbones. His eyes barely open and the blues of them almost gone entirely with how wide his pupils were, the room dim as the moonlight coming through the window casting just enough light for you to see each beautifully sleep mused feature, his lips turned down at the corners as his lower lip jutted out slightly, looking like the epitome of a kicked puppy. You couldn't help but smile softly at the sight because god he was unfairly cute. 

“Hi, baby.” You greet as you take another sip of water, watching as he steps closer, giving you a slight huff of an exhale in response before sliding his hands around your waist, fingers instinctively sliding under the hem of your top as he placed his hand between your shoulderblades, pulling you gently closer as he slumps forward into you, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he hugged you. Standing there, glass still in hand as you take another slip of water, allowing him this slightly one sided hug, you were beyond used to this behavior from him. “You alright?” you ask nevertheless, as you place the glass down on the counter by the sink as your hands find their way to his hips, resting there lightly. You don't get an answer from him, well not a verbal one, his head lifting just enough to press a featherlight kiss to your shoulder where his forehead was previously resting, before nuzzling into the crook of your neck with an almost petulant sounding grumble, lips still in that little point, clearly not alright with the situation as he was not at all pleased to have woken up moments ago with you gone from his hold. Standing there in the silence of the early hour as your thumb gently strokes back and forth over his hip where your hands rest comfortably, feeling the way he clings to you like an oversized koala even now. After another minute or so you finally say “Let's go back to bed.”A soft suggestion that he clearly seems happy with as you feel his lips curve upwards against the skin of your neck, still not moving from his place as he take a deep breath of your scent before finally straightening up, still not uttering a single word as his hands slip from your back and waist, instead one trailing down the back of your forearm until his hand met yours, his long rough fingers sliding into yours as he intertwined them. In return you give his hand a soft squeeze as you catch sight of his sleepy expression, his slow blinking before he turns back in the direction of the bedroom, gently but maybe just a little impatient tugging you along, eager to get you back in his arms properly and back to sleep. Hours later, once morning truly came he was more than sure to keep a tight grip of you, legs tangled and every inch pressed to him, not even allowing you to consider getting out of bed as he held you close, making up for lost time, or at least that's how he thought of it. 

(Yes, I did come up with that pun, please be nice about it. Let me know your thoughts or if you have any ideas, they don't have to be The Pitt related, I've just binged the show recently and so they're on my mind. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.) 

[youremagicmoony]

Today was a relatively slow start to Jack's day, he hadn't been called in early to start his shift for the first time in who knows how long. You however were on the way to ending your day, a mug of tea in your hands, peppermint tea as you didn't want to be up until sunrise tonight. Your hands wrapped comfortably around the mug of tea Jack had so kindly made for you as he went about his slow getting ready for work as you sat perched on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the edge as you held the hot beverage close to your chest, feeling the steam curl up and heat the tip of your nose. Your eyes were trained on Jack as went about his routine, which included a little workout, today that meant him doing inclined pushups against the edge of the kitchen counter. With his physic it was clear that he was more than capable of doing a regular pushup but his shoulder had been giving him some trouble so inclined it was. You watched as he angled himself, hands pressed to the edge of the counter, fingers splayed out as they gripped the counter as he lowered himself, elbows bending, biceps popping as you had a clear sight of all of it from where you were sat, and that's to the fact that jack was a little like a toddler and absolutely refused to wear clothes of he didn't have to, so you were getting an eyeful of bare chest and freckled skin. Your gaze glued to him as you watched the show of him slowly lowering before pushing back up, watching how his muscles moved under skin, tempted to reach out and touch what you were sure would be warm skin and feel the way his muscles hardened with the exercise. But alas you sat and watched, sipping your tea, but maybe you had been watching more intently than you thought, as Jack titles his head up, salt and pepper curls having fallen forward a little onto his forehead with the angle he was positioned in, his gaze shifting in your direction as he looked at you questioning from under his lashes. “What?” he asked, voice still a little gruff from sleep. He wasn't stupid, as his eyes flicked over your face he could practically read your mind, and the fact that you had been burning a hole into him for the last so many minutes with your staring was definitely a dead giveaway. Was he doing this on purpose?

 “Nothing.” You mumbled behind the rim of your mug as your eyes shifted to his face before being pulled back to his biceps like they were bloody magnetized to the spot. With a soft huff Jack pushed himself back up, using a little more force this time as he pushed up into a standing position, back to being fully vertical. His hands linking behind his back as he rolled his shoulders back and started swaying just slightly from side to side with his fingers still interlinked, a hum sound vibrating in his throat a clear indication that he didn't believe you in the slightest. His lips slightly pursed as his gaze slowly trailed over you, the slope of your shoulders, the way your fingers were wrapped around the mug, how your thighs were spread out, squashed against the counter top, the corner of his lips twitching upwards as he dragged his gaze back up to return to your face as he took a step forward. An amused twinkle formed in his eyes as he looked at you. “What?” You're the one to ask this time as  he takes another step closer, his eyes never leaving you as you could feel the heat of him now with how close he was. Slowly he lent down, ducking his head a little as he leaned in, his hands still linked together behind his back as he pressed his lips to yours in a soft little peck, the kiss featherlight and sweet in its simplicity. Before you could really react, your heart was doing that little fluttering thing it did whenever he, well, did anything really, jack pulled back just a little, his breath fanning your lips as he whispered. “Nothing” tone feigning innocence as he partied your answer right back to you, smug little prick. Tilting his chin up just a smidge, his lips meeting yours again, tasting the peppermint this time. 

(I don't know what's going on but apparently I've woken up and decided to get back into writing after about three years, so I'm going with it. Please let me know if you have any thoughts or ideas, they don't have to be Jack Abbot related. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.)

[youremagicmoony]

Just another morning after one of Jack Abbot's night shifts. 

The bedroom was quiet, the only sound being your slow steady breathing synced up with his. Jack had got home from his night shift only a few minutes ago, his keys in the bowl near the front door, his back dropped by the leg of a chair in the living room on his way to the bedroom. He had thankfully taken his lunch box out and rinsed the containers in the sink as he never wanted to leave them in his bag overnight, he appreciated you packing his lunch too much to ever show such disrespect. And now he lay, prosthetic leg resting at the foot of the bed as he had removed it almost on autopilot, hands making smooth work before reaching for the hem of his scrub shirt, pulling it up and over his head, leaving him in a simple long sleeve cotton t-shirt with the sleeves having been shoved up to his elbows while dealing with an incoming trauma, before crawling up the bed and towards you. As of right now you sat positioned against the headboard, pillows staked behind you, hair mussed from sleep, eyes still a little blurry around the edges and sunlight just starting to creep through the curtains. In one hand you held your kindle, reading some romance novel that you had struggled to put down the night before, a slow burn that managed to have you kicking your feet and smiling to yourself like some giddy fool. Jack had bought you the kindle, happy to indulge you in your hobbies, besides it had ended up working out for him too, as now gushed over whatever you happen to be reading, he got to enjoy seeing that spark in your eyes and that happy smile that seemed to never leave your lips as he explained animatedly the plot of some novel he swore sounded more like a fever dream than a book. But he would listen, and maybe just maybe when you mentioned some of the stuff the men in the books you were reading were doing, and he saw that pretty little blush that dusted your cheeks, maybe he pictured how you would react if he were to do those same things, and maybe he might have offered to recreate some of those scenes or get you to read them to him while he kept himself occupied between your thighs… but that's a story for another time.

 Right now however, he was laying on top of you, or more accurately he was laying on your chest, his lower half resting on the mattress between your legs as his arms held secure around your waist. His large warm hands splayed over your sides as they moved, caressing your waist, palm pressing to your spine, his thumb stroking back and forth absentmindedly, like he couldn't quite believe that you were real.  Your hand that wasn't holding the kindle was on his head, fingers slide into salt and pepper strands as you played with the curls of his head, twisting one around your finger before carding your hand through his hair, letting your nails lightly graze his scalp as you felt him relax further on top of you, his shoulders seeming to lose some of their tension. Jack's eyes stayed closed, his cheek pressed to the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, inhaling slowly as the scent of you filled his longs, making something settle in his chest like his body was realizing it was indeed home. His arms stayed securely wrapped around your waist, not even considering letting you go as he felt the steady rise and fall of your chest under him, the warmth of your skin under his rough fingertips. Turning his head just slightly as he tilted his chin up just enough for him to press his lips to the swell of your breast through the material of your sleep wear, his grazing softly, not hungry or leading, more like he had so much love inside of him, felt his chest growing almost tight with it that he simply needed a way to let it out, to show it some how, how utterly endeared to you he was. He head resting back down as he nuzzled closer, arms tightening in a light squeeze as his knee bent and hiked up to the side, like he was actively trying to bury his way under your skin. Glazing down at him when you felt the graze of his lips as you continued to watch him, eyes tracing over him with a fond gaze as you saw how in his attempt to crawl into your soul, his shirt had ridden up, his movement causing it to rise up his broad back. Theoretically you could have just let it be, maybe even pulled it back down to cover him up, but you were only human, so indeed your hand in his hair moved, traveling down until it reached the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up further, exposing the softly freckled skin of his back. You felt him still for a heartbeat before letting out a slow breath as your fingertips grazed over his skin before slowly dragging your nails along the line of his spine in a light scratching fashion. The action drawing a sound from Jack that he would refuse to acknowledge until his dying breath, though if you had to describe it, you would more than likely call it a whimper, a soft, pathetically desperate sounding whimper that had the corners of your lips twitching upwards and repeating the action. Jack didn't dare move now, he felt his skin tingle and his own lashes flutter against the tips of his cheeks, as his head was now resting higher on your chest, his cheek smushed against skin that peeked out form the neckline of your shirt, hearing the steady beat of your heart under his ear. The gentle rhythm of your heart and the soft scratches to his back, along with the scent of yours mixed with his that filled the room, Jack sincerely believed he had somehow made it into heaven, so he lay there, still, as his own breathing began to slow as sleep started to pull at him and his body melted atop yours. 

(Sorry I haven't written in a while so I'm pretty rusty. Please let me know if anyone has ideas or would want me to write anything, not just Abbot related.)