Summary: Parker takes her girl out, the club plays Burna Boy, and suddenly neither of them remembers the group they are with.
Warning(s): none
Note: I was listening to Burna Boy and 4 Kampé II came on and inspired this. I was going to write a different fic for Ellis but I was dancing in the kitchen and just had to do it...
You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the deep emerald dress you’d picked out hours ago sleeveless, hem just above the knee, simple but sexy. A text from Parker had come in while you were doing your hair “Wear the green one. Trust me.”
You’d laughed then. You weren’t laughing now, because when you opened your apartment door to her, Parker was leaning against the doorframe in dark jeans that hugged her long legs, a pair of clean white sneakers, and an emerald button-down shirt. The exact same shade as your dress.
Her smile always starts small like she’s letting you in on something before she’s even said a word. You see it forming before it fully arrives, the corner of her mouth lifting first, slow and deliberate, like she knows exactly what it does to you.
When it finally settles, it’s warm in a way that feels personal, like it’s meant just for you. Her eyes soften, dragging over you with that quiet, knowing look, and there’s this flicker of amusement there she’s enjoying the way you’re reacting, even if you’re trying not to show it.
Fuck she’s so pretty. She makes your chest feel tight in the best way, because it carries affection beneath it all. It tells you she’s mesmerised at you as you are with her.
“Told you,” she said.
“You’re impossible,” you replied, heat climbing your neck.
She stepped inside and pulled you in by your hips. Her nose brushed your temple. “You matched me on purpose.”
“You matched me.” you replied, almost childishly into her shoulder. She smelled like cedar and shea butter.
Parker hummed, low and pleased. “We can keep arguing about the details. But I think we should go before I change my mind about sharing you with the group.” She then steered you through the street after you lock your door.
The bus was crowded, though it was Friday night, the whole city seemed to be heading toward the strip of clubs downtown. Parker kept one hand on the overhead rail and the other wrapped firmly around your waist, her thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of your dress. Even through the thin material, you could feel the warmth of her skin, the gentle pressure of her fingertip pressing into the curve of your hip with each slow rotation. The sensation sent a soft thrill up your side, grounding you in her hold as the bus swayed and lurched. You leaned back into her chest, and her thumb never stopped moving.
Every bump and turn of the bus pulled you closer into her side. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you caught her reflection in the dark window, she was watching you, her expression soft but possessive.
“You okay?” she asked, lips near your ear so you could hear over the rumble.
“More than okay,” you said, leaning your head against her shoulder.
Her arm tightened. “Good.”
When the bus lurched to a stop, she guided you off first, her hand never leaving the small of your back.
The bass was already thumping through the walls when you reached the entrance. Parker flashed her ID, kept you close as you wove through the crowd. The lights were low, purple and gold, and the air smelled like sweat, perfume, and rum.
“Ellis! Over here!”
A woman you didn’t recognize waved from a high-top table near the dance floor. Next to her stood another woman you’d never seen before, already holding a drink and nodding to the beat. A few other familiar faces from the hospital, Dr. McKay, a nurse you’d met once named Perlah, and two residents whose names you always mixed up, filled out the group.
Parker’s hand found the small of your back as you approached. She leaned close to your ear. “That’s Trinity,” she said, nodding toward the one who’d waved. “And that’s Yolanda Garcia. You’re going to like them.”
You smiled, nerves settling as Parker’s warmth stayed pressed to your side.
“Nice shirt, Ellis,” Yolanda said, smirking as she looked between the two of you. “Matching? That’s cute. Disgustingly cute.”
“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, Garcia,” Parker shot back, but she was smiling. She pulled out a chair for you, then sat beside you, her thigh pressed against yours.
Trinity leaned over. “I love the dress. She didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Parker.
Parker shrugged, unapologetic. “Wanted you to be a surprise.” She slid her hand onto your knee under the table.
You felt the weight of her palm there, her thumb traced the inside of your knee once, twice, then stilled. Across the table, Yolanda was telling Trinity about a patient who’d tried to climb out a third-floor window, but you weren’t really listening. You were focused on the way Parker’s pinky hooked gently over the hem of your dress, not pulling, just resting.
A server came by with a tray of drinks. Trinity ordered a round of something blue and sweet. Yolanda asked for rum and coke. Parker leaned forward to order for both of you, two tequila sodas with lime and when she sat back, her hand returned to your knee like it had never left.
“You nervous?” she asked quietly, just for you.
“No,” you said. Then, honestly “Maybe a little. New people.”
Parker’s thumb started moving again, slow circles against your bare skin just above your knee. “They already like you.”
“They don’t know me.”
“They know you’re with me,” she said, like that explained everything. Her eyes held yours, “That’s enough for them.”
The drinks arrived. Yolanda raised her glass. “To new faces and good music,” she said, and everyone clinked. You felt Parker’s other hand squeeze your upper thigh briefly under the table before she reached for her own drink.
You took a sip. The tequila was clean, sharp, warm in your chest. The club pulsed around you, bass thrumming through the floor, bodies swaying in the purple light. Parker’s arm slid across the back of your chair, her fingers playing with the ends of your hair.
Trinity was saying something about a bad date she’d had last week. Yolanda was laughing, head thrown back. McKay was arguing with one of the residents about the best pizza in Pittsburgh.
But Parker wasn’t really participating. She was watching you watch them. When you caught her, she just smiled and tilted her head toward the dance floor.
Not yet, you mouthed.
Soon, she mouthed back.
And then—
The DJ shifted tracks.
The four-on-the-floor gave way to something rounder, warmer, a rolling drum pattern, a crisp guitar chick-chick-a-chick, a bassline that moved like water. The crowd shifted. Couples found each other.
Parker’s small smile now bloomed fully across her face.
“You hear that?” she asked.
You listened for a beat, then grinned. “Burna Boy!.”
“4 Kampé,” she confirmed, already rising to her feet. She offered both hands. “Come on.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice.
On the dance floor, Parker pulled you into the proper frame your left hand on her shoulder, her right hand low on your waist, your other hands clasped. The space between you was close but not crushed, just right for the dance.
The beat dropped.
You both moved at the same time. A small step left, then right. Hips rolling in a slow, easy circle. The footwork was subtle tiny slides, quick weight shifts, never leaving the floor. Parker’s locs swayed with her as she turned you gently, then brought you back.
You matched each other perfectly, when she stepped forward, you stepped back. When she dipped her hip, you dipped yours opposite. The dance was intimate. Her hand pressed into your lower back, guiding you through a slow turn. When you come back to her, you smile and pull her closer by the collar of her emerald shirt and kiss her.
It was soft at first, just a brush of lips, a question. Parker answered by tilting her head, deepening it. Her hand slid from your lower back up to the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. You kissed her again, slower this time, matching the rolling beat of the drums. Your hips never stopped moving. Neither did hers.
She pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. "You're showing off," you said, breathless.
"So are you," she replied, and kissed you again before you could answer.
This one was hungrier. Her teeth grazed your lower lip. Your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, pulling her flush against you. The dance became a sway more than steps bodies pressed together, locs tangling around both your faces, mouths finding each other between every other beat. When the guitar chick-chick-a-chicked, she kissed the corner of your mouth. When the bass dropped, she kissed your jaw.
From the table, you heard Yolanda whoop. "Get it, Ellis!" Trinity was laughing, phone out.
Neither of you cared.
The song swelled. Parker pulled you closer, until your foreheads touched. Her locs brushed your cheeks. The world became the drum, the guitar, and the warm press of her palm.
“I love dancing with you.” she said quietly.
“Then don’t stop.” you said.
She didn’t.
When the next Kampe track came on, she kept you on the floor. And the one after that. And the one after that.
By the time you finally stumbled back to the table for water, Yolanda just shook her head and slid two bottles toward you.
“Y’all are disgusting.” she said, but she was smiling.
Parker threw an arm around your shoulders, pressed a kiss to your temple, and didn’t argue.
(CW: none, i'm really self-indulgent about softness hehe) wc: 4k
Prompt: Five POVs discovering a new side to Park The Shark + one very revealing incident.
an: Hi! my favorite trope in all fandoms is the secret relationship outsider!POV and then Park came on my screen and suddenly he's the best character to write that trope about!! I got a bit carried away but I was having fun :) I hope you have fun reading it <3
1
Dr Park was a rare sight in the ED, Dennis had only seen him once in a year of working at PTMC. During his first few months, especially after Pittfest being his first day, The young man kept to himself, mostly only interacting with those around him in the Pitt. Becoming a bit more secure in his skills and place in the hospital helped him widen his circles and meet residents and nurses from other departments. That is to say: Dennis had heard plenty about Dr Park "The Shark".
The Ortho department nurses came up with the nickname Shark when he started working there a few years ago. Some of them say it's because of his sharp face and matching no-bullshit demeanor. "No, it's because he can smell blood, like sharks, you know?" an OR nurse once contradicted. It didn't help that his frame was intimidatingly large while his gait was smooth, like a predator's prowl. or a shark's.
Junior residents and MSs, even nurses, all have at least one embarrassing story with him.
"One time he pointed at a clear plastic straw on the floor and waited for me to pick it up. Held up a round of five doctors for like three minutes."
"When I first started, he scared me so badly I asked him if I could use the bathroom like he was a school teacher. He hasn't looked at me since."
"He yelled Out! when I asked if we just put an NG tube back in if it falls out."
"I remember him kicking me out of a case because I prepped the patient's clothes and added socks. Patient just had a leg ambulation."
Before ever being in the same room as Dr Park, Whittaker assumed rumors and stories change in dramatics as they travel around the hospital. Having embarrassed himself when meeting the man, He understood what triggers these stories.
Park was terrifying. He moved like he believed everyone else should move around him, direct and never stopping unnecessarily. His eyes seemed all-knowing, like he can detect lies. Dennis wasn't that surprised that even Robby seemed slightly intimidated, the attending didn't color his words or joke when Dr Park was in the room. Dennis was reminded of his older brother's scary friends, those that he knew could bully him mercilessly if they wanted.
All together, experiences with Dr Park were few and larger than life as any encounter would be talked about for daysafterwards. Dennis was never curious enough to ask question, until the day a preschool teacher came in with her 4 year old student.
"Hello, My name is Dr Whittaker," He greeted after pushing open the curtains in cental 10.
A woman sat on the bed with her arm wrapped around a whimpering child, he seemed to be protectively cradling his arm to his chest with his face half hiding in her jacket. Dennis's eyes flicked quickly through the chart in his hand.
Sam, 4 years old, minor head trauma, elbow injury.
"Hi, I'm Sam's preschool teacher," you softly spoke, giving your name, "He had a fall during school hours while playing."
The doctor saw your hand careful brushing the boy's blond locks, you face seemed strained with worry. Jesse moved the curtains again as he entered and smiled at the child while taking his vitals.
Whittaker was pleased to see your calming presence and well-versed words effectively calming Sam enough to allow an examination of both his head and arm.
"This seems to be a pulled elbow," He explained kindly, "happens a lot with kids when they fall, or their arm gets yanked."
You sigh in relief as you listen to the treatment plan he offers.
"There's no need to imaging since there's no deformity visible, so we will do a quick reduction. It's like a a fast arm movement so the elbow clicks back right."
"Will it hurt?" Sam's small voice reached him as the boy mumbled to you.
"Only a little, sweetie," you reassured him, holding his small hand in yours, "but your arm will be all better after."
Electing to monitor Sam's head bump without subjecting him to unnecessary radiation, you stayed with him in the room after the successful reduction as Dr Whittaker moves towards the nurses station. As he neared the counter, he heard Princess's hushed Gossip Tone.
"-they called ortho three times, that's why he's annoyed."
"He's always annoyed though," Dr Santos retorted from her seat behind a monitor, "like how do you tell?"
"who's-" Dennis started.
"Shhhhh," Princess pinched his scrub sleeve, "He's in Trauma 1."
Dr Park, Orthopedic surgeon, was snapping off his gloves and aggressively throwing them in the designated bin before stepping out the glass doors. He cast a sharp glance over the Hub, one that made Dennis want to duck, and walked past them. The man's chilling aura trailed after him towards the elevators at the far end of Cental to West.
"What was-" Dennis went again but received a slap on the forearm.
"Look!" Santos hissed, her eyes, peeking from behind her monitor, were trained intently on Dr Park's path.
Sighing, Whittaker took a step out from behind the large counter covering his view of the hallway. His eyes first caught the bright yellow floral pattern of your skirt, an instant contrast to the blues and whites of the department. You stood in front of Central 10 with you arm in Dr Park's grip. What?
The surgeon towered over you, standing a step too close, with his head angled down and eyes on yours. "That's my patient's teacher," Dennis told Trinity, "should I-"
"Do not move, Huckleberry."
Park leaned closer as if to surround you, speaking softly as his hand smoothed up to your elbow. You smiled brightly in response and tugged at the bottom of his scrub top once playfully. A sharp ping interrupted from Dr Park's pocket and he reached a hand to answer his phone.
Dennis saw you take a step back, still smiling gently, as Park spoke tersely to his phone while simultaneously rubbing your upper arm. In a moment, the man ended the call, spoke to you again, then stepped back to walk to the elevators.
"What was that?" the roommates whispered at each other as they watched you step back into Sam's room.
Whittaker might have forgotten this incident if it weren't for the ortho intern delivering a coffee cup and a toy car to Central 10 sent by Park the shark.
2
July was the Sarcoma awareness month, prompting the hospital management to set up a stall by the main lobby and strongly recommending the staff to wear the yellow ribbon pin. While the ED staff generally felt unsafe wearing a pin during their shift, Dr Robby has been pressured as senior staff -mainly by Gloria- to set an example. So it shouldn't have been a surprise for him to enter the lobby and find Dr Park The Shark standing at the stall picking up his own pin.
"Dr Park."
"Robby." Park drawled back, still looking through the items on the table.
The attending glanced down at the different size pins, magnets, and pens, and reached to pick one of each as he usually does with free stuff.
"You don't want a magnet with that?" the staff member running the stall asked Park with a smile, "I like collecting them myself."
The surgeon glanced up blankly for a long beat, then started adjusting the pin in his hand to the pocket of his top. "There's no space on my fridge for any more, thanks," he muttered.
Robby's head snapped up, keeping his widening eyes forward.
"Woulda' never thought you'd be one for fridge magnets," Robby teased mildly.
"I'm not, but MagniTiles are a thing."
Park sidestepped the table and walked back towards the elevators, leaving Robby confused with both Park's response and his own curiosity. It was only when he walked through the double doors towards the ED, fiddling with the pin through his collar, that he recognized the clink of a chain around Park's neck. A silver ring hung on it and glinted in the light when he adjusted his scrubs.
Must be part of the Shark persona to have your private life a complete mystery.
"Dr Robby, why are you looking up MagniTiles?"
Robby flinched at Perlah's question coming from behind him. He fought the urge to cover the monitor screen as if he got caught doing something scandalous instead of Googling a children's toy. God, he hated getting himself too deep in work gossip.
"My kids obsessed over them for a phase, then we lost them," The nurse shrugged when Robby asked if she's familiar.
"Oh," He whispered.
"What's up? where'd you hear about MagniTiles?"
The attending hummed in thought and leaned back in the desk chair, "Dr Park mentioned it yesterday."
Perlah's brows furrowed, then raised as her eyes widened. "Oh.."
"Oh."
3
"Eh, he's not that bad." Dr Abbot shrugged, resting his back against the Hub counter, eyes focused on the ambulance bay.
"We're talking about Park," Dana muttered from behind the counter where she was listening to a resident anxiously explain that she hadn't meant to refer to a Scapula as Shoulder Blade in front of The Shark.
"So am I," huffing, Jack turned around to see Dana raised brows, and the back of the resident scurrying away.
Dana pushed her glassed to the top of her head, and pinned him with glare. "I can't say he's ever been rude to me, but he's too blunt with the littles. This is a teaching hospital."
Jack hummed agreeably and leaned his forearms on the counter between them.
"Did I ever tell you about the time this one kid held up her surgery because the mom wasn't there to braid her hair?"
"What? no," Dana leaned forward curiously.
"Park went to see what the delay was on the anesthesia," He continued, "listened to the kid cry about how her braid has to be a specific way, she was young and seemed fixated on it for comfort maybe."
"Did he scare her into compliance or something?"
Abbot's grin widened, "He braided her hair himself."
The charge nurse's face went slack, eyes unblinking, "come again?"
"He dismissed the anesthesiologist, sat with the girl on the bed, and braided her hair the way she wanted," Jack whispered, "OR nurse said he explained that he learned how sometimes a ponytail is too tight and loose hair is annoying so a braid is best. Apparently he assured her that he had the practice to back it up."
Dana's hands rested at her hips, brows suddenly smoothed, "That's so …"
Jack nodded slowly.
"… Soft."
"Yup."
4
"-and apparently, I should experiment with another iced drink," Dr Shen scoffed into his phone as he sat on the entrance steps on the parking level, the elevator behind him busy since the day shift was starting soon.
"No, I'm not trying matcha," He fake-gagged, "too grassy."
John was taking the time to call his wife before continuing his double shift, this usually leads to her taking the phone everywhere with her so he can keep yapping while resting in the "cool" spot in the parking lot. It was uncomfortable here, but any physical comfort after a night shift will drop him into the very sleep he was trying to avoid.
"Sure but doesn't strawberry overwhelm the tea?" He mumbled as he turned his head, hearing a car sound growing louder and closer, "What would be the point of the matcha if I'm drinking strawberry milk-"
That's not Dr Park.
The white Porsche SUV took a sharp turn into the parking lot closest to the entrance, the figure in the driver's seat sat rummaging with things beside him then the door clicked open. John held a gasp at the sight of Brendon Park stepping out with his hair in soft curls flopped on his forehead. Shorter and slightly wet at his temples and around his ears, it made him look like a random guy at the grocery store. What the f-
"-apparently, you're only supposed to use one side of the eraser," Park's voice came closer, holding his phone by his ear with a rare smirk on his face, "I tried to suggest cutting it in half but she refused to change the logic."
The man's eyes caught John seated beside the glass doors, and gave him a stiff nod as he walked towards the elevators. Very cold, familiar, shark eyes.
"Sweatheart, I know. I talked to the Wi-fi company-"
Shen's eavesdropping was cut off by the closing doors as the elevators took the shark to where he needed to be.
"John, Baby?"
"Shit. Yes, sorry, I caught something really juicy I forgot I was on the phone," he spoke quickly, standing up to clock back in, and whispered as if the walls would rat him out, "I think Park the Shark is married."
5
"There's a baby shark."
"What did you just say?"
Yolanda and Parker stared at each other, eyes budging as if what just happened was a glitch in reality. Dr Ellis had come to Surgical Recovery to check on a patient, finding Garcia updating a chart behind the nurses desk. The moment the trauma surgeon saw her, she sped around the counter, caught her sleeve and walked briskly to the stairwell. Then she hissed the most outrageous utterance Ellis had ever heard.
"Park the Shark," Garcia blurted, face intense and hands wild, "has children!"
"Dr Park-"
"At least one!"
"Girl-"
"Girl," Yolanda hissed back.
"Ok spill. Quick."
"All the clues line up, Ellis," She started, holding up her hand to count of her fingers, "There's a booster seat in his car, a leftover fairy sticker on the bottom of his leather duffle bag, and for the first three minutes of coming on shift, he has a wedding band on his ring finger-"
"Thee minutes?" Ellis hummed, these were all news to her.
"-then he loops it on a chain under his collar," Garcia continued over her friend's words, "This has got to be the most casual secret I've ever encountered, he's not at all secretive about it."
"You mean if we just.. ask him…" Parker hesitantly asked.
"Yeah but who would ask him..?"
Fuck.
"w-we'll just never know, I guess," Ellis mumbled, shoulders shrugging while barely containing her frustration.
Garcia waved her arms up, sounding a tsk in her tongue, and started walking out of the stairwell muttering to herself, "I don't know why we get so into this shit, but fuck I wanna know-"
+1
The farm was finally doing well enough to join the farmers market at Market Square, and Dennis was both excited and terrified. The thought of members of his family reacting to his life in the city was terrifying, but he did find it thrilling to share the fruits of his labor on the farm with his friends. He might almost be prideful about it, but he's never admit that.
Dennis made sure he was there by 4 am to help his brother David and sister-in-law set up their table, because he was just raised like that -and he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't. By 10am, the previous day's shift had caught up with him and he started drooping in his bench behind the table.
"You absolute Hucklefarmer, are you wearing a plaid shirt?!"
Trinity wore a smirk as she walked towards him, with Samira and Mel waving excitedly behind her.
"Hey!" Dennis greeted them and rounded the table.
The girls looked relaxed and well-rested in casual clothes. He introduced David, then stood with trinity for a few minutes listening to her complain about the recent plumbing problem in their apartment building. Samira had looped her arm through Mel's and asked if she'd like to go win something fun at a game table, to which Mel excitedly agreed.
"Got any updates from Princess?" Dennis asked.
"What updates?"
"As I understand it, nursing staff gossip is a whole other animal. I am sure they know something about Dr Park."
Trin chuckled loudly, "If it's so hard for you to let this go, why didn't you ask the teacher the other day?"
"I couldn't," he sighed, "she looked so worried for the kid, and it seemed rude to ask. Then his parents arrived and she left."
With a laugh still in her breath, his roommate hummed in agreement. "Well, no. Princess only told me about night shift theories. You want something concrete-"
As Trinity talked on, Dennis's eyes swept over the tables and stalls lining the walkway, wondering where his other friends made a stop.
Mel watched in unfiltered fascination as the the old lady behind the sand art counter started her request, holding a small glass bottle and twisting it delicately as she filled it with colorful sand.
"That's so cool! how long have you been doing this?" Samira cheered, leaning a hip on the table beside Mel.
"Over 10 years, love." the old woman responded with a smile.
Mel gasped as she started to see the image of a penguin come together on one side of the glass. Mira sneakily took a picture of her friend's face, because nothing is more pure than Mel with wonder in her eyes. Fiddling with the camera settings, Samira saw a tall figure two booths ahead of them. Respectfully, she moved to Mel's other side to avoid including strangers in the photos, which put her a step closer to-
"Bren, Baby, just admit defeat, would you?" Your voice sounded both exasperated and loving, "the babies are getting bored."
Samira tilted her head as your conversation caught her attention.
"Layla said the monkey was pretty. I'm winning her the monkey." The man's voice sounded familiar, but the young resident couldn't place it. A click sounded as he gave away more money and picked up the rifle.
Deciding to naturally turn her body to catch a glimpse of the family behind her, Mohan's heart was warmed by seeing a toddler in a winged fairy outfit wiggling excitedly as she watched her dad aim a rifle at a sharpshooting game booth. Beside him was a woman in a white sundress, her long hair swayed as she tried to sooth the baby she held against her hip. A few shots sounded off the rifle, and Samira blinked back to look at the man.
He roughly placed the rifle on the table and turned to you when you tugged the bottom of his shirt. You smiled gently and tugged again.
"We can teach her how to lose gracefully, Dr Park, not everyday is a win." You said, running your nails along his forearm, your baby boy squirming on your other side.
Dr Park
His hair was so fluffy, laying in un-gelled waves, that it changed the sharp sharkness of his features. Jackpot.
Samira slapped a hand lightly on Mel's shoulder, her jaw dropped open in a gasp. Mel stalled on her face and her what?was shushed firmly. "Behind me!" Samira hissed.
"Everyday is a win, Darlin'," Brendon frowned, almost offended, and pointed at your baby boy, "look at that."
Then he bent down and picked up the kid, Layla, under her arms, holding her up with a blank face, "Look." and you couldn't hold back from laughing sweetly at your girl.
The little girl giggled when her fluffy skirt bounced as her dad turned intensely to the young man running the booth, "Look at this face, man."
Samira slapped a hand over her mouth, the girls clutching each other's sleeves as they watched the guy hesitate between Brendon's deadpan stare and a three year old's absurdly adorable cheeky smile. Sighing dejectedly, he reached behind him and unhooked the stuffed monkey, "I don't get payed enough to handle that."
Brendon placed his babygirl on her feet and handed her the monkey, kneeling to her level, and smiled-
"That's a smile-" "He has dimples-" Mel and Mira both said breathlessly. They turned quickly towards each other, eyes connecting and wide.
"I think we saw something really important." Mel mumbled.
"But I think we're both the least likely to participate in gossip…" Mohan added.
"… but is it gossip if it happened directly in front of us?"
Samira gawked at Mel's sudden lean into the group's on-going speculations about Park the Shark. "Honey, you've got a saucy streak I don't know about?" She teased, tilting her head closer.
"It's just.." Mel's lips quirked at the corners as she looked away, "that was really cute and I think I want to talk about it."
Stifling an excited laugh, Mel look back over her friend's shoulder. You were handing your youngest to his father's arms, Park leaning down to kiss you cheek, and holding out your hand for Layla. You walked with your bouncing fairy toddler towards a nearby ice cream truck, while Brendon talked softly to his son as he pushed a stroller with his other hand towards an empty park bench.
"I think this is my favorite," Mel whispered.
+Bonus
"Ok, so I'm about to ask you something, I just need you to not bite my head off after."
Brendon Park turned his head sharply to see Robby walking towards him at the entrance of the parking lot. The surgeon was standing there on his phone when Robby headed to his motorcycle to finally end his day shift. Seeing Park stalling, the man usually in a constant movement through the hospital without pause, Robby took his chance.
"What do you want, Robby?" He grumbled and tucked his phone in his jacket.
What's the worst that could happen?
"Are you married?" Robby blurted out, fighting his face muscles to remain firm.
Park rolled his eyes, "Yes, I am. What? Ahmed's got a new bet?"
"N-not exactly," muttering, Robby rubbed his hands together for more courage, "You're aware how you're… perceived, right?"
"Robby, man," Park's stare was pointed as he unclasped the chain around his neck and took out the wedding band, looking down for a moment to put the ring on his finger, muttering There has got to be some better use of your time.
A buzz sounded from brendon's pocket and it triggered a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. "You want more?" He challenged, nodding his head to the open gates.
"Park, I didn't mean to-" Robby held his hands up placatingly, but stopped when a white SUV, famously The Shark's car, slowed to a stop beside them.
Brendon scoffed at him and stepped closer to open the driver door, holding a gentle hand out for the driver to step out. "Artful timing, Doll." He mumbled to you with a softening smile.
The ring on your hand, the first thing coming out of the car, almost blinded the ED attending when it caught the light. You smoothed down your flowing skirt and stood beside your husband with your hand still in his.
Robby cocked his head subtly at the familiarity of your features. Oh, the preschool teacher.
"Daddy!" "Dada!"
He swallowed his shock and offered a smile. Ellis did say Baby shark but that was supposed to be a joke. There were two children, visible through the glass, strapped in the back seat with their arms waving wildly at their parents. You greeted Dr Robby cheerfully, an unburdened smile gracing your face, waiting to see if your husband needed to finish up his conversation.
Brendon Park reached an arm behind you, pulling a lever under the driver's seat and pushing it back. Nonchalantly tucking his duffle bag between the seats, he stopped by your side, eyeing Robby's face with a bored expression, and closed his large hand around your hip. "Anything else, Dr Robinavitch?"
"Nope," Quickly responding and stepping backwards towards his motorcycle.
Park nodded as he smoothed a hand down your back, "Get in."
After rounding the car to the passenger seat, settling with your work shoes off, Brendon climbed into the driver's seat. He paused as he was about to close the door, glancing at Robby with his brows knotted.
"Robby."
Not too far, Robby paused on his motorcycle and looked up. "Yeah?"
"There's a helmet right on the strap," Park stated lowly, narrowing his eyes, "Put it on would you? the entire car is watching."
Robby blinked rapidly, eyes flickering from his helmet, which he hadn't even considered putting on, to the small faces in Brendon's back seat. You peeked to see him from your seat, your finger pointedly urging him.
Unlatching the headgear, Robby fit it over his head half-ashamed at his recklessness. He snapped up the kickstand and started the engine. He heard muffled child-like cheers and looked up to see Park lazily salute him with a grin, and drive off.
Flower dividers by @strangergraphics
tagging @totallynotashieldagent because they asked :)
an: some personal thoughts/hcs :
Whittaker is actually more into gossip than Trinity, she'll listen but she won't activity think about it, or seek it out.
Brendon used to say "Dude" a lot when he was younger, it slowly turned into "man" as his sharp persona was developing.
Brendon doesn't actually care about secret keeping, it's just his scary resting face is preventing people from having open conversations with him.
Brendon is mean at work. bully-adjacent. it's more about competence than the person, therefore, he's not that bite-y when off the clock.
I have two kids and one fridge. It is absolutely covered (all the way down) in magnet letters and MagniTiles. It's a big metal wall, of course toddlers want to see how much they can stick to it.
Jack abbot is that one guy that's always in the group chat but never says anything. he's got ears everywhere and I think he'd know more outside the ED that is expected.
the kid discussion about the eraser happened in real life more than once.
carrying your babies while pushing an empty stroller is a real thing, a really real really tiring thing :)
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
