[justalittlepitt]

NAVIGATION

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ Keeks! | blurbs and fluff mostly | she/her | 20s ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

✧˖°. about me! hi, i'm Keeks! welcome to my sideblog of varying blurbs of fluff, a little steamy sometimes, and sometimes even a little angst

masterlist | asks/requests

divider creds to roseraris <3

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader, ooc!Park?

There were couples that had fights and couples that had very minor disagreements in comparison. Some couples fought over infidelity, others about finances, some about kids. There were the couples that argued and made the changes necessary to thrive after. For example, your friend who was in charge of loading the dishwasher because her husband didn’t do it right and he took out the trash bins because he put them in the right spot.

After being married for nearly ten years, you and Brendon were way past fights and arguments. You guys were one of those couples that grew from your disagreements so you could avoid the tension. Part of it was because arguing was tiring and also because, Brendon was smart enough to not pick fights with you. Happy wife, happy life and all that.

Music plays loudly from a speaker on your vanity while you begin your makeup for your biweekly date night out. You hum, your fluffy brush picking up a light, neutral shade to dust over your eyelid before calling out, “Bren! What color am I wearing tonight? How bold should I do my eyes?”

Brendon steps out of your closet with his hands on his hips, no decision made yet. He leans on the doorway of the bathroom and sighs, “having a tough time deciding if we should match exactly or do complimentary colors.”

Ever since the two of you had moved in together ten years ago, Brendon had been in charge of picking your date night outfits. Before living together, he’d dedicate a whole hour to finding the perfect outfit to match yours... only to pick you up and find you wearing something completely different. He wouldn’t be able to hide his pout during your dates and there was no amount of explanations about ‘shoes looking wrong’ that could get rid of his frown. He just wanted to match!

So when you moved in together, he took initiative. He’d pick his outfit, plan yours around it, lay out each garment, piece of jewelry, and the shoes you’d wear. You got extra time to get ready, there was no stress about picking an outfit or leaving a mess behind, and he did a really good job dressing you.

You rest your elbow on your vanity and turn to look at your husband, “it’s been a while since I’ve worn green out. Can you work with that?”

“I’ll take a look again. Just keep the eye look pretty neutral, just in case,” he nods, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you to get ready.

It doesn’t take you too long to finish your hair and makeup, lord knows your extensive getting ready routine was once the topic of many other arguments. You swipe on a gloss, smack your lips together and leave your bathroom just as clean as you entered it. You know your husband hates a mess.

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Brendon is pulling on a crisp white dress shirt. Hanging on your closet door is a silky green dress you’d forgotten about, you hum approvingly at the sight of it.

The two of you move in a well-practiced dance. He pulls the zipper of your dress up, you fasten the buttons on his cuffs, he buckles the strap of your heels, and you smooth out any wrinkles over his broad shoulders. Your heels click as you walk back to the bathroom to select his cologne for the night. He does the same for you and you both wordlessly exchange fragrances, spritz yourselves, and set the glass bottles down again.

“Last step,” you state, holding out your hand expectantly. He gently sets his left hand in your own, causing you to smile as you slide his wedding band down his ring finger. You nod in approval, “you look so handsome, baby.”

“Not as beautiful as you do, my love,” he mumbles, picking up your rings from your jewelry dish. He takes care in sliding each accenting ring chosen for your look down your fingers until he gets to your bare ring finger. He looks up at you through his lashes, a smile taking over his handsome face as he slides your wedding band into place, followed by your engagement ring, and then your upgraded promise band.

“Now you’re ready,” he tells you, letting your hand so he can press a kiss to your ring stack, the back of your hand, and trail the kisses up your arm. You giggle excitedly, tilting your head back so he can press one final kiss to the side of your neck.

He pulls away with a loving smile, checking himself out in the mirror before leading the both of you out to the foyer. He stops in front of the accent mirror you’d had in your old apartment and places a hand on your waist.

“Try to smile for at least a few of the pictures,” you mumble, holding your phone at the perfect angle for the obligatory date night photoshoot.

He’d once grumbled and grunted about taking pictures, but now, like the well-trained and enamored husband he is, he tilts his head to and fro, giving your plenty of expressions so you’ll have ample choices for your post later. He watches on with a bright smile as you take selfies and immediately send them to him.

The only things on his mind are one, how beautiful you look, and two, just how much he loves you. He’s the luckiest man in the world.

feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

ur really good at park fluff omg i need more im hooked

omg yay! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing! I'll see if I can whip something up for him soon!🤍🤍

[justalittlepitt]

From the corner of your eye, there's a slow moving yellow blob that stops at the corner of the screen monitor and stays there. Your fingers freeze over the keyboard, the sticky note catching your attention for just a second before an unamused puff of air leaves your lips.

'You look so beautiful when you're pissed at me :('

You keep your focus, finishing up your report— do your job, which is something your boyfriend, Frank, seems intent on not doing today. He's been like this all morning, from the moment you let the house annoyed with him, his wandering hands, and lack of care for being on time.

Sure, you'd been complicit in the lighthearted make out session in your doorway, but you'd tried to stop him on your way down the driveway. You had laughed as you smacked his hands away and tried to get into the passenger seat, but Frank persisted. His lips trailed down the side of your neck, sucking softly on your skin as if you both didn't have a job to get to.

It wasn't until you were both officially on your way to work when you saw the marks. "Frank! What the hell?!" You screeched, fingers uselessly rubbing at the marks on your neck that won't be disappearing any time soon.

"I wasn't even sucking that hard! Hey, you didn't say no!" He argued, eyes wide.

Of course, you got an earful as you entered the ED, winks and wiggled brows sent in your direction. Slapping a few bandaids over the bruises were enough to cover them, but your peers knew what you were really hiding.

You knew what you were hiding and you were far from happy about it. You made it known by staying clear of your boyfriend and his big, sad eyes. It was easy enough with all the cases that kept you practically running back and forth across the ED. Plus, you knew his sadness was fake anyway. He wanted your attention more than he actually felt bad for what he did.

It was petty and childish to avoid him and give him the silent treatment, but he deserved it! Marking you up right before work with no way to hide it was crazy!

Another note, number six if you'be been correctly: Can you at least look at me? I'm forgetting what your beautiful face looks like :((

So you did. You looked at him, a sickly sweet smile spread across your lips as you reached for both notes stuck to the computer frame, crumpled them in your hand and threw them away.

His jaw drops as he narrows his eyes at you, "you're cruel."

"Dr. Langdon," Dana calls out, interrupting the moment and drawing you attention, "there a reason you're bothering my nurses and not checking in with your patients?"

Frank holds his clasped hands up in a begging pose, "Dana, if I don't fix this, I don't have a bed to sleep in tonight."

A laugh bubbles past your lips before you can stop it, "as if he doesn't have a bed of his own."

He turns to look at you, "Look, I'm sorry, alright? You should really just try to be more resistible, not look so good when we're leaving and getting ready for work."

"I look the same as I do every day!" You exclaim, spinning your chair until you're meeting his eye.

"That's the problem!"

"Dr. Langdon," you hear Robby sing song, "I feel like I've seen you hang around the hub more than I've seen you with actual patients today."

You nod politely, "he was just leaving, Dr. Robinavitch."

Frank pats the counter lightly, sidestepping until he's in front of you with his head dipped low, "I really am sorry, love."

"I know," you sigh, "I was just giving you a hard time. Go back to work before we both get in trouble."

"Yes ma'am. I love you," Frank replies with a bright smile, backing away slowly.

You wave mouthing 'I love you' back before Dana calls out to you about an incoming trauma. Back to the hustle and bustle.

feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

why didn’t anyone spoil how heart breaking the ending of animal kingdom is for me??😭😭😭

[justalittlepitt]

cw: single mom!reader, a child

Jack isn't stubborn enough to admit that he's not the greatest neighbor ever. In his defense, he works odd hours. He works for the block parties, he's never home to help when new families move in, and he can't say he even knows both his direct neighbors anymore. He knows that his neighbors to the left have retired to Florida, and his new neighbors to the right, well, they're more headstrong than he is.

You came over to introduce yourself just a few days after he'd seen the moving trucks. You came bearing a plate full of cookies and an outgoing toddler with uneven pigtails who threw herself at his legs with a huge smile. He immediately falls head over heels for the both of you.

He was rarely home during normal hours and a lot of his free days were spent working with the SWAT team, but still, he often found plates of leftover meals left on his doorstep or different desserts boxed up along with scribbled artwork that goes up on his fridge until he gets the next piece. He appreciates it more than he ever gets the chance to voice, so he makes it up to you in small ways. He'll take your mail up to your doorstep, bring in your bins, or even weed your garden. You've never asked him to, but he feels its the least he can do after you've kept him so well-fed these last few months.

Today, he figures he has the chance to actually tell you. He's taken the day off, actually taken it off. Your small talk when he gets home from work and you’re leaving or vice versa just isn’t enough for him anymore. You’re the human embodiment of sunshine, bringing a smile to his face after a rough shift while you wrangle your three year old into her car seat and the girl shouts her hellos. The two of you are magnetic, drawing him in without even knowing it.

He's been able to get some chores done before he hears your house next door spring to life. He can hear music pouring out of your windows and both you and your daughter's voice singing along. He doesn't even try to fight the smile that stretches across his face.

Before he gets a chance to second guess himself, he makes his way over. He knocks three times, waits only a second before he hears, "Mommy! It's my best friend, Dr. Jack!"

You pull open the door, still in your pajamas with a powder-dusted apron covering your front. You must be cleaning up after breakfast. "Good morning, Dr. Jack!" You smile brightly.

Your daughter squeezes past you and hugs Jack's legs with an identical bright smile, "we're gonna go water my plants!"

"Sounds so fun, princess," he smiles down at the girl before lifting his face to met your eyes, "I wanted to invite the two of you over for dinner tonight, as a thank you for all the treats and meals."

"We're free for dinner, aren't we, missy?" You ask whilst trying to pry your daughter off of him.

"Yep!" She nods, slipping away from you as she rounds Jack with a mischievous smile, "come look at my garden, Dr. Jack."

"He's busy!" You chide, reaching for her again unsuccessfully.

"But I wanna show him my plants!" She whines, tiny hands tugging at his shirt as she pouts up at him, "please!"

"I can spare a few minutes. If it's alright with you, of course," Jack reassures with a nod.

Just a few minutes later, due to a few pit stops to look at drawings and new toys, Jack finds himself in you backyard looking at a thriving garden. He's shocked into silent wonder. He was expecting a few plastic planters with wilting plants, but there's a whole raised plant box decorated with multicolored hand prints and lush plants.

Your laugh fills his ears as you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, voice low as you explain, "the preschool she goes to has a partnership with a community garden. The school has a few plants and the gardeners sent all the kids home with a few plants. We have tomatoes, peppers, and basil so far.”

"We use it to make our sauce! Did you like it, Dr. Jack?" The girl asks as she rips a cherry tomato off the vine and holds it out to Jack.

"We used the tomatoes to make the spaghetti sauce we took over a few weeks ago," you clarify again.

"I loved it," Jack lies, hardly remembering any spaghetti, but not wanting to disappoint the toddler. He hums pleasantly as he chews on the tomato, not ashamed to admit that it's a very good tomato.

His immediate answer makes you smile. He's always so kind with your daughter, making her happy and smile like very few people can. You love your happy girl and Jack makes her happy— the both of you.

The girl chatters on and on about the plant life cycle while pointing at all the different produce in various stages of ripeness. She smiles up at Jack proudly, "I have green hands."

You and Jack laugh heartily, as you reach to push her hair away from her face, "a green thumb, baby. Just your thumb."

Jack crouches down beside her, "maybe I can use some of this in my dinner for us tonight. You can come over and help me. How does making our own pizzas sound?"

She claps her hands with an excited nod, "I love pizza! And mommy loves wine too!"

You clap a hand over her mouth, face burning with embarrassment, "that's a secret between us girls!"

"But he's my best friend!" She pouts up at you with her bottom lip jutted out dramatically.

You wave her away under the guise of her picking veggies for Jack's dinner. She grabs her basket and starts her work with devotion. You keep your voice low, "she's exaggerating about my love of wine."

Jack throws his head back with a laugh, "I've learned to take her comments with a grain of salt. I can get us a bottle though, I've been told I have a petty decent palate."

You shake your head, an almost forgotten feeling of bashfulness refusing to let you make eye contact, "save your skills for a more deserving girl. A fancy date or something."

"I think you're plenty deserving. I'd be honored to have you two girls be my first date in a long time if you'd be interested in that," Jack murmurs, his voice warm with sincerity.

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes wide with disbelief and cheeks warm, "you don't mean that..."

"I don't take kindly to being called a liar. Now, I'll have to cancel dessert, and I buy a mean store bought cake," Jack playfully chides before softening his tone, "I'm being serious about it being a date. You can tell me no or you can tell me yes and we can see where it goes. No pressure."

"Dr. Jack! Look at this worm!" Your daughter screeches, thankfully giving you a moment to calm your racing heartbeat and catch your breath.

He kneels beside her and feigns awe. His voice is gentle as he tells her all about how helpful worms are in gardens. She hangs on his every word, eyes bright with adoration.

The sight makes your heart skip a beat. You know there are worse men to keep around for you and especially your daughter and Jack is very far from that. You bite your bottom lip, meeting Jack's eyes as he looks over your daughter's shoulder and nod. It's a date.

feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader, ooc!Park-ish part one | part two | part 3

Brendon Park doesn't think he's ever been as happy as he has been these last four months. Four months of complete and utter bliss. He never used to believed it when people said they'd found their "other halves." He now thought that past version of himself was an idiot. He does whatever you mention, ask, and even think of asking happily.

He'd introduced you as his "partner" one time and gotten an earful from you after. "If I wanted a partner, I'd go into business with somebody. I'm your girlfriend, got it?" You'd snapped heatedly. Immediately, he agreed. Suddenly, being a 40-something-year-old man with a girlfriend didn't feel immature, not when you told him otherwise. In fact, he was ecstatic to have a girlfriend.

He was so happy that he wanted to tell everyone. He even wanted to let the interns at work know, the mailmen, the barista who made his coffees before work, anybody who would listen. He wanted so badly to tell Yolanda, to thank her for setting the two of you up, for trusting him enough to send her best friend on a date with him. Without her approval, he'd have never have found happiness. He owed her thanks and she had no idea...

"Hey, doll?" He calls out, not even looking up from the dinner he's serving for the both of you, "when are you thinking you'll tell Yolanda about us?"

He hears your snort, "I'm not even sure about you yet."

He smiles to himself as he shakes his head, walking out to the living room with both plates of dinner in hand. Sure, you're still iffy about him. It's so obvious from the way you're sprawled across his couch, wearing his clothes, and proudly sporting various bruises from his mouth and hands across your neck and thighs.

"Of course," he concedes, "how silly of me."

You plop yourself beside him, placing a glass of wine in front of him while he slides the dinner he made in front of you. You stab your fork into the food with a happy hum.

The corner of his lip quirks up at the sound, "how was lunch with my mom?"

"I can't believe an amazing woman like her birthed a man like you. I love your mom," you laugh, leaning over to wipe the corner of his mouth with your thumb.

He leans into your touch, tucking your hair behind your ear, "she's obsessed with you. She sent me more texts than I can count about how much she just adores you after your lunch. In the four months of us being together, you've been to the country club for lunch with my mother more than I ever have."

"I enjoy her company," you nod.

Dinner passes by with soft recollections of your days. He tells you about a few cases and you offer details of your day off. He listens intently, asking you questions because he'd rather break his own leg than miss out on any detail you're willing to offer.

Still, in the back of his mind, he's stuck on the fact that you don't want your best friend to know you're in a happy relationship. You can deny it all you want, but he knows you're happy. He'd starve, go broke, lose sleep, lose it all if it made you happy. Thankfully, it hasn't gotten to that point and he doesn't think it ever would.

You look over at him, noticing the unfocused look in his eye. You place a gentle hand on his knee, "I really like you. You make me happy, Bren."

"Good," he nods with a soft smile, "that's all I can ask for."

You gnaw on the inside of your lip, contemplating your next words, "it's not that I don't want to tell Yo... it's just that— God! I'd never hear the end of it from her! She sets me up with an ortho gym bro and I fall for him! I mean, ew!"

Brendon feels himself tense, having expected some deep, dark past with past dates, maybe a name or two he'd have to track down and get rid of. This is so much better. The tension in his shoulders melts into soft shakes as he laughs loudly and brightly.

He pulls you into his lap, your knees caging either side of his waist like it's second nature. He places his hands on your hips, pressing his lips to the side of your neck between muttered words, "you're right. I'm your worst nightmare."

You nod with a dramatic pout, while he tilts his head back to pepper your neck and face with kisses. His hands are gentle, voice a soft croon, "take your time. I don't mean to rush you."

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips, it slips out despite your trying to keep it in. Your hands cup the back of his head, a teasing smile spreads across your lips as you look down at him, "I'm gonna make you wait it out. A long time."

"I'll wait as long as you need," he nods, pupils blown with adoration, "I'm not going anywhere."

divider from cursed-carmine <3

tagged! @beebeechaos @houseofodd @totallynotashieldagent @seitmai @gf4lwt @cuntomoxetine @abbotlvr @goldnhabitx

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader, pregnant!reader, mentions of sex

"John, man, what the hell? What are you doing here?" Parker asks as John strides through the sliding glass doors of the ED at 10 pm.

"Hello to you too," John greets with a wave of his hand, "I work here. That's why I'm here."

"You're on leave," she counters with an arched brow, hands on her hips.

John shrugs, making his way back to the locker room to put his bag away and get to work. He tries to keep his face calm and neutral but his instincts are working hard to draw his face into a pout.

He should be home. He should be with you, cuddled up in bed while watching the latest drama you've become obsessed with while he massages your back. Truly, the last place he wants to be is work right now.

"Shen," Jack greets with his brows pinched, "why are you here?"

John laughs, "that seems to be the question on everyone's mind tonight. I work here, remember? Hi, Dr. John Shen, attending physician in the Emergency Department at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center."

Jack smacks John's hand away, "you have a very pregnant wife at home. Overdue if I remember correctly. You should be home with her."

John groans, bracing his arms on the counter of the nurse's station before dropping his head forward, "I know that. She kicked me out of the house."

"She what?" Jack questions.

"What did you do?" Parker adds, just as curious as the elder attending.

John sighs, "she told me I was pissing her off and that I needed to get out of her sight before she sterilized me with her bare hands."

Parker laughed, throwing her head back as she slapped a hand against the counter, "now I really want to know what you did."

He scrubs a hand down his face, "she was complaining about the baby not coming sooner, so I started listing off different natural induction methods. Her preferred spicy dish is from a restaurant that's closed, so that wasn't an option. She said it was too dark and dangerous outside to do curb walking, so we didn't do that either."

Jack shakes his head, mumbling under his breath, "I hope this isn't going where I think it is."

"I then suggested some stretches and she rejected that because she didn't want to move into uncomfortable positions. I then suggested sex because," John trails off with shame before rushing out, "all she can do it lay there anyway so it would be an easy solution."

Parker's jaw drops as she shakes her head with disbelief, "oh my god. I can't believe you told your 41 week pregnant wife that. I'm going to sterilize you myself!"

"I apologized!" John exclaims in his own defense.

"Why the hell would she— or any woman for that matter— want to hear that?" Jack questions, his face screwed up into a look of genuine bewilderment.

"It slipped out! Obviously my gorgeous, sexy wife doesn't just lay there during sex, but she's complained about every position but missionary for the last few weeks. I just thought this was common knowledge for us. I was trying to help! I even tried to fix my mistake by going to that restaurant she likes just to double check that it was actually closed— it was. So I called and she didn't answer. Then I went to the grocery store and got her her favorite desserts. Those cookies and ice cream she's been craving her whole pregnancy, but then she responded to my text with the middle finger emoji! I was out of the house for 3 hours until she finally answered my calls and told me to leave her the hell alone, so I just came here!" John rants passionately.

"You're such an idiot," Parker breathes out, still shaking her head in disappointment.

"Uh, John?" Lena calls out, setting the phone back into the receiver.

"Yeah?"

Lena looks like she's trying to hide her amusement, but clearly failing. She clears her throat, "Mrs. Shen was just admitted into L&D, contractions are 5 minutes apart."

John grips his hair with a loud groan, "she fucking drove herself, I can't believe it. She's never going to let me live this down."

feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

Pittsburgh heat was stifling. The air hung heavy and thick, making even the simplest task like breathing feel like a chore. The heat felt even worse when your boyfriend, Jack, refused to turn the AC on at night. He insisted that "the heat was all in your head" and "the nights cooled off significantly." He was, unfortunately, right part of the time, the heat wasn't unbearable when you were in bed alone which was most nights.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Tonight, Jack was glued to your back, thick arms wrapped around your waist with a leg thrown over your own. You usually loved having Jack home, you loved going to sleep with him instead of missing him as you slid beneath crisp sheets on your own, but god, not tonight. You were miserable, slick with sweat and wishing it would magically become twenty degrees cooler.

You'd been awake for hours, trying to wiggle away from Jack since the second you woke up practically drowning in your own sweat. Each escape attempt was unsuccessful and harder than the last. Each wriggle made Jack tighten his hold, let out a sleepy sigh, and nuzzle closer to you.

You groaned, kicking your legs off the edge of the bed in frustration. You inhaled deeply and threw yourself forward with all your anger-fueled strength. You sat up, a triumphant and shocked laugh escaping you. A feeling of triumph that was too soon quelled when that same heavy hold wrapped itself around your waist and dragged you back down to hell.

"Stop squirming," Jack rasped, his hot breath fanning the back of your neck.

You whined, kicking your legs petulantly, "let go of me."

"Wanna cuddle with you, sweetness," he replied, dragging the tip of his nose up and down the slope of your neck, "we never get to do this."

"Then let's cuddle with the AC on! I'm swimming in my own sweat, you're a human furnace, and I'm suffering. You're making me suffer!" You exclaim while helplessly trying to wriggle away from Jack's embrace.

Jack chuckles, rolling onto his back with a loud yawn, "you're cranky when you're hot."

"Jack! We're living in hell! My rich, hot doctor boyfriend likes to reminisce on his days before central cooling was invented and it's torturous!" You wail dramatically, "what is the point of having these luxuries if we don't even use them!?"

He continues to chuckle, dragging a tired hand down his face, "are you this dramatic when I'm not here?"

You sit up with your eyes ablaze with anger, "I sleep just fine when you're at work. Wanna know why? There's not a huge, hot man laying next to me and wrapping me in sweltering heat! I'm done with this!"

You stand from the bed and angrily begin to slam the windows shut around the room before stomping out to close the rest windows around the house. It doesn't take to long for Jack to hear the familiar sound of the AC kicking on which only makes him smile.

Your glare hasn't softened, in fact, it sharpens as you make your way back to your shared bedroom and lay down with a huff, "I'll send you money for the energy bill since my misery is so entertaining to you."

Jack settles on his half of the bed, missing the feeling of you in his arms, but he knows better than to push you to your limits right now. He fluffs his pillow and turns onto his side to face you, "don't you dare send me money for any bills. I cover household expenses and you know that."

You exhale sharply, closing your eyes and willing the cold air to cool you off even faster. After some time, you feel yourself begin to drift off, feeling fresh and sleepy.

You're just minutes away from a deep sleep when you reach for Jack's hand, tugging softly. He hums sleepily, roused from his sleep at your touch. You curl onto your side and blink slowly at him, "why aren't you cuddling me?"

Jack sighs, tugging you into his chest. His heart skips a beat at the content hum you let out before you both succumb to sleep. He thinks you can be a total pain in the ass, but god, he loves you.

feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader

Being back home was bittersweet. On one hand, you already missed your family. Spending a couple weeks with them made you realize how much you’d been missing out on. So many birthdays and holidays passed, tiny faces to meet and new faces married in. It wasn’t very often that you got to go back home because of work, but you cherished your time there. On the other hand, you were glad to be back home. You forgot how nosy your family could be and how loud.

You let out a mix of a groan and an exhale as you drop your bags at the foot of your bed. Your shoulders ache, and your hips are sore from sitting for so long. The rest of the apartment is relatively silent, you figure your roommate, Trinity, is probably working overtime. You start to unpack your clothes, taking a load to the washer before shuffling to the shower.

You take your sweet time in the shower, applying a hair mask, washing your hair twice and double washing your face. You step out with a happy hum, wrapping your hair up and out of your face before wrapping a towel around your body.

You step out of the shower, head down as you focus on tucking the corner of the towel. You intend to make your way back to your room, instead, you bump into a firm body. “Trin—” you lift your eyes before a scream rips from your throat, “who the fuck are you?!”

The man scrambles back, clutching a black shirt to his naked chest while you scramble back to your room. You dive for your phone, dialing Trinity’s number with shaking hands.

“Hello?” Comes her bored tone.

“Trinity! There’s somebody in our apartment!” You whisper in a panic.

Her voice suddenly sounds concerned, “what?”

You crack your door open, trying to look for the unfamiliar figure, “there’s a boy in our apartment!”

You find him pacing back and forth, tapping quickly at the screen of his phone. In the dim light of the kitchen, you can see some serious definition in his arms and his back. You bite your bottom lip as you mumble, “actually, he’s more of a man.”

“Oh, gross!” Trinity scoffs, “god, I forgot to tell you about this. That’s Fuckleberry—”

“Fuckleberry? What kind of name is Fuckleberry?” You question, apparently too loud as it draws his attention.

“That’s not my name!” He cries, rushing over to you, “I’m Dennis. Dennis Whitaker. I work with Trinity and I’ve been trying to get a hold of her to get an explanation.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and put the call on speaker. Trinity yawns, “Fuckleberry, meet your new roommate. Well, actually, you’re the new roommate since she and I lived together first, but she’s been out for a few weeks now. Now I’m just confusing myself as to who’s the newest.”

“Finish your shift and get home safe. We can figure it out later,” Dennis chuckles, ending the call with a soft tap to your screen, “sorry, that was probably the worst way to meet.”

You shamelessly let your gaze trail over his smooth skin before nodding with a soft exhale, “I don’t think it was too bad.”

His eyes go wide as his cheeks redden, “sorry for scaring you.”

“Apology accepted, Fuckleberry,” you tease with a smirk, “I should, you know, put some clothes on.”

“Oh, yeah! Of course!” He nods excessively, backing away before bumping into the coffee table.

“Unless you’re opposed. I can lose the towel,” you continue with an exaggerated wink and mirthful smile before shutting your door. You don't miss the way his eyes widen like saucers and his cheeks go bright red. It's adorable.

You unlock your phone again, typing out a message.

You: we never discussed the whole sleeping with our roommates thing

Trinity💛: NO! Fuckleberry is not a sexual being to me! He’s just a sad little thing that needed protection

You: a sad little thing with delicious muscles and a handsome face!!! thanks for bringing me home a hottie!!!

Trinity💛: DONT be disgusting! I’ll be home in an hour Trinity💛: Keep it in your pants until then

You: I’m down to even keep it over the pants You: get home safe lol

divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

A blurb about younger nurse reader runs into Dr. Abbot and some of the other night shifters at a bar while she’s waiting for her friends for a night out. She walks over to say hi to them and Dr. Abbot starts having spicy thoughts when she walks over in her hot outfit. Then later when he sees her at work he kinda starts developing a little crush :))

Your request is up!

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader

Jack Abbot thinks he might finally be going insane. For a week now, he's been unable to think about anything but you. Sure, he thinks he technically thinks about all the staff on the night shift, but not like he's been thinking about you.

The night had started off like many of his nights out over the years. He and a few of the night shift crew, those that had the night off, went to a bar a few blocks away from PTMC. It wasn't the liveliest place, a little run down with a few old timers like Jack filling most of the seats at the bar. But it was reliable, not too expensive, and central enough for anyone who wanted to join.

It couldn't have been more than a few hour and already a few groups had made their way through. First, a group of young guys who were celebrating a 21st birthday while on a bar crawl. After them was the group of middle aged women who were celebrating a divorce in the same way.

The last group was group that had been haunting Jack for seven days straight. He hadn't been paying attention when the last group walked in with loud laughter. From the corner of his eye he'd seen hints of pink and feather boas before Mateo, who'd been sharing a story with the group let out a loud whoop and scrambled away toward the new group. Jack was nosy enough to look, finding Mateo hugging a girl who was wearing tiny scraps of clothes.

Jack choked on his beer when Mateo released the girl from the hug and it was revealed that it was you. You had sauntered over in a low cut tank top, a sliver of skin at your waist teasing him but not more than the long expanse of smooth skin of your legs. Jack had never thought he'd be jealous of a skirt, but that night he was. He was jealous of that tiny piece of fabric hugging the curve of your ass like it was made for you.

You'd greeted everyone with friendly hugs, excited to see your coworkers on your night out. He'd felt like a pervert, sitting beside you and watching the way your tongue licked the salt rim of your drink, let his eyes trace the endless inches of bare skin, and held himself back from reaching out to touch you. Jack really couldn't remember what you'd talked about that night because your fruity perfume had clouded his senses an rendered him dumber than any alcohol ever could.

It was the same perfume he'd been catching whiffs of and borderline chasing since that night. The same night he'd seen you in a different light and been unable to stop thinking about you.

He felt like an bumbling fool being in the same room as you at work. Routine cases that he'd dealt with hundreds of times now made his brain go blank if it was you who was assisting him. His pre-shift pep talks turned into awkward ramblings once he made eye contact with you.

He tried his best to keep himself busy and moving, if he was busy, then there was a lesser chance that his imagination wandered off to visions of you in his bed.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts with a sharp exhale and drags a hand down his face before leaving the bathroom. He exits the bathroom just to go crashing straight into you. Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, he stops you from falling. But he does so by clutching your waist and tugging you toward him until your body is flush against his own.

His breath catches, cheeks burn with a mix of emotions as his feet stumble and steady after a just a few seconds. You look up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown as you laugh, "woah, Dr. Abbot! Watch where you're going!"

He nods stiffly, his grip on your waist fluttering before he blinks harshly and steps back. "It was an accident," he tells you, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed.

You laugh again, squeezing his forearm gently, "it was a joke, Abbot. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just wasn't watching where I was going," he reassures. He clears his throat, hating how hard his brain is working to get words out, "you can call me Jack, by the way. We've known each other long enough to be on a first name basis."

Your bright smile makes his chest ache, "alright, Jack. I have a patient to get back to, but stay steady."

He lets out a laugh that sounds awkward to his own ears as you walk away, his eyes falling to your ass as you walk away. Without checking his surroundings, he bends at his waist and let's out a long exhale mixed with a groan, "fuck."

Parker walks by, her eyebrow arched, "you having a heart attack old man?"

"Worse," Jack replies. It's a much worse problem for someone his age to be suffering from. He thinks he has a... crush.

divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

a blurb about jack abbot and/or robby finding younger nurse/resident reader’s modeling photos from gigs she did to help pay for school!!!!!

Hi, I just wanted to let you know that this idea has already been written amazingly and I don’t feel great about writing the same thing as another writer so I won’t be having a go at this, sorry!

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader, ooc!Park-ish, part two of this

You suppose there are worse places to be miserable. The restaurant you're sitting in is one of the nicest you've ever been in with low lighting, quiet music, and a menu full of those dishes with obnoxious, minuscule servings.

The man who sits across from you hasn't taken his gaze off you from the second the host walked you to the table and you haven't let your mask of boredom crack. You were polite enough to greet him and allow him to pull your chair out for you, but not much else. You knew his type and you knew all about how he'd been pestering your best friend for weeks now at work.

You swirled your wine in your glass, some red blend that the waiter told you paired well with course eight of ten for the night. You met Brendon's heavy gaze with a blank look of your own, "you know, the only reason I'm here is because you wouldn't stop hounding Yolanda."

He leans in, elbows on the table with a smirk on his face, "what kind of gentleman would I be if I hounded the woman I was interested instead? You look gorgeous tonight by the way."

"You've told me so five times already," you tell him after tearing your gaze away from his own so he wouldn't catch sight of the way your breath caught in your throat.

"I've meant it every time," he replies, leaning back for the next plate to be placed before him, "have you been enjoying dinner?"

You exhale in frustration, setting your fork aside with a soft clink, "let's not do this awkward small talk thing, alright? Nothing real is going to happen here, this isn't going to happen again, and the only reason I'm here is because Yolanda couldn't talk to me about anything else besides you harassing her at work."

His brow quirks, swallowing his food before asking, "why won't anything happen?"

"Because I know your type. You think the world should bow at your feet and be grateful to be in your presence just because you're some handsome surgeon. You overcompensate your serious lack of personality with a huge ego and muscles," you explain, crossing your arms across your chest.

An annoying dimple pops out on his cheek, "you think I'm handsome?"

You scoff, "what you're having a hard time getting through immensely thick skull of yours is that this is the last time anything between us is happening. You need to leave Yolanda alone and then you need to get over this weird little obsession you have with me."

"I saw you that night we met," he replies, apparently too stupid to acknowledge anything you'd just said, "before I went over, I mean. I saw you looking at me."

You tense, your blood runs cold before you shrug off the feeling of being caught off guard, "so what? I have eyes. I was dumb enough to look for a second before I realized the mistake I would be making."

He nods slowly, taking the last bite of his dish before wiping his mouth, "please, tell me again why we wouldn't work out."

"I've dated guys like you before and I have learned enough lessons to last me a lifetime. You're not the first cocky surgeon Yolanda's worked with that I've gone out with. I'm just lucky enough now to know that the schedule, elitism, and ego among surgeons alone are not something I ever want to willingly be around ever again."

He holds up a single finger, "I work a 7 on 7 off schedule with 12 hour shifts and am on call for 7 days of the month from the hours of 9 am to 7 pm. Residents and interns are usually itching to get in the OR so I rarely get called in."

A second finger goes up, "I only think of myself as elite and egotistical in the hospital because I think I've earned it." He shrugs casually, "I've put my years in, I like my cases to be handled a certain way, and I like things to be in a specific order. There has to be order in an OR or limbs would never be saved and lives would be lost. Sure, it's carried on into other facets of my life but I'm not against change."

Your eyes narrow slightly at that, you don't like that he has a point. The smug smirk on his face tells you that he knows he's made a good one. You know your distaste reads clear as day across your features.

You clench your jaw, "that doesn't mean we'd work."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try," he counters with a soft tilt of his head.

You hate the way your heart skips a beat. Why is this asshole being so cute and sweet? You gnaw on the inside of your bottom lip, minutes passing by slowly as you mull over your options. He waves away the waiter, noting how you hadn't even touched the plate and instead asks for a refill of the chardonnay you'd both had a few courses ago. The chardonnay you'd liked so much that you let a satisfied hum slip out. He must have noticed.

How irritating.

He leans back in his chair, "if you give this a good, honest try, and things don't work out, you can write off every other guy in the medical field forever. I'll leave you alone with no complaints, I won't let what happens between us affect Yolanda at work, and you can leave knowing that you were always right about this."

He leans in slowly, eyes so intense with what you believe is wanting that your breath hitches, "if it does work out, then I get the privilege of having you as my company for as long as you’ll have me and I’ll be happy to cater to your every whim, every beck and call, whenever you want me to. That’s all.”

Your cheeks burn with bashfulness, your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and your heart throbs with need. You want to believe he’s saying all this just to win you over, to get what he wants from you and move on, but there’s not a single hint of insincerity in his eyes. No, the blue reveals nothing but warmth and honesty.

Your hand clenches the cloth napkin on your lap beneath the table so hard that your knuckles hurt before you finally get out, “you have to tell people I made you work really hard for me.”

“I got on my hands and knees to beg, brought flowers to your door every day for a week straight, and let you step on my chest with your heels after I fell asleep on your doorstep waiting for you to give me a morsel of attention,” he immediately agrees with an eager nod and an easy, devastatingly handsome smile.

“Fine,” you concede with a sigh of faux exhaustion mixed with fascination, “you wore me down, Brendon. Let’s give this a shot.”

divider from cursed-carmine <3

tagged! @beebeechaos @houseofodd @totallynotashieldagent @seitmai

[violetsnowdropp]

You and Samira have shared an apartment since she was an R2, and since you were a nurse at PTMC’s emergency department. You two got along like a house on fire, you got her out of her shell. You were best friends, and secrets only ever caused problems..And hiding boyfriends were hard. She would literally sneak out of the apartment, use every excuse under the sun, to go to Jack’s. She’d go out to get a third carton of milk, then went out again separately to get a loaf of bread. But you knew. Of course you knew.

..Samira also knew. Because you’re shit at hiding it, shit at keeping secrets. Everyone in the ED knew you had a big fat crush on Park the Shark, but she was the only one who knew it was an actual thing. She saw the texts when she sat beside you on the sofa, your smile when he texted, your trips to the gym were more spontaneous, and you stayed over at your cousin’s for a few too many occasions, you stopped complaining about being lonely and needing some dih. Though that was mostly coming from the both of you..

One night, the universe must have glitched. You both thought you were out that night, and you both brought your boyfriend’s over.

Jack woke up naturally at around 8:30, and immediately went out of the bedroom to piss, and to make some coffee. He padded down the hallway, quiet clanking and uneven steps from his prosthetic, scratching his neck and yawning. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen at the sight of Park the fucking Shark already trying to work the coffee machine. Bare, hairy chest and plaid pyjamas pants low on his hips

They both stared at each other, a bit wide eyed. “..I saw this coming sooner or later.” Brendon murmured flatly, not evening reacting as Jack let out an incredulous, but light, scoff of a laugh. “Yep.”

[justalittlepitt]

cw: f!reader, ooc!Park-ish

Orthopedic Surgeon, Brendon Park would never call himself desperate. Desperation was an emotion reserved for people who had no control, whether over themselves or of their situation. Brendon Park was someone who was always very in control.

Every day was planned down to the minute, following the same routine because his routine was one that worked. He was predictable, he liked having control outside of the OR just as much as he did inside of it.

It was why it was so odd for his peers to see the surgeon picking up one of the phones during his shift. Around him, eyes watched on with intrigue and confusion. This was out of habit for him.

The line rang for a second before he simply stated, “it’s Park, pass the phone to Garcia.”

There was a lull, muffled words and conversations that he barely heard. Another successful surgery wrapping up, exactly like he’d timed it. After all his unanswered texts and pages he’d sent her, this was his last resort. He was… desperate eager to get an answer.

“Garcia here. What have you got?” Came the response of his fellow surgeon on the other end of the line.

“Just a question,” Brendon replies, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “your friend from our night out last week, is she single?”

There was a breathy laugh on the other end of the line, “there’s no way you’re using the hospital’s landline to ask me if my best friend is single.”

“Just… answer the question,” Brendon breathes out.

He’d spent every night of the last week since he’d met you, thinking about you almost obsessively. He couldn’t get your laugh out of his head, how you threw your head back, hair tickling your back, a wide smile, and an even sweeter voice. If you were best friends with Yolanda and he supposed he liked her, why wouldn’t he like you?

Yolanda laughs again in disbelief, “Park, she didn’t seem to care for you.”

“What makes you say that?” He volleys back, a brow arched despite not being able to see Yolanda.

“How about the fact that she told you that you compensated your build for a personality? Or the fact that I know that gym bros aren’t her type?”

He scoffs, “I am not a gym bro. I’m an accomplished orthopedic surgeon. Doesn’t every mother want their daughter to marry a doctor?”

He lets his mind wander back to that fateful Friday night. He’d felt himself drawn to you from the second he’d heard your laugh. His observant gaze caught you and Yolanda tracking others across the bar, heads huddled close with judgement showing clearly in your gazes.

However, his memory gets snagged on the half second where your gazes were locked. Before he even realized he was looking at you, your eyes had already been on him. Not in judgement, but something… heated maybe? You’d snapped your stare away from him before he got a chance to process the weight of your gaze. It was what ultimately drew him over to you and your best friend just a minute later.

He’d never had a bad time with Yolanda and she was certainly better company than the X-Ray techs, so he approached the two of you. Instantly, you bristled, eyes hardening with criticism. He’d thought you would be easy to win over, he’d flashed you a smirk that had worked on plenty of women before and bragged about being a surgeon.

You'd left that night after spending just five minutes with him. The obvious look of distaste for him never left your face as he shamelessly flirted. Your glare was ice cold from the other side of the bar window as you left, and he'd never felt so attracted to someone in his life. Dare he say, he might even be in love.

There’s silence for a minute then a groan mixed with a sigh, “you’re not going to let this go until I give you her number are you?”

“I knew you were smart,” he smirks.

Your brows furrow as you read the text from your best friend, ‘Based on the best friend pact we made in high school, you’re not allowed to hate me.'

Your fingers are already tapping away at the screen, the text reading, ‘what do you mean?’ When, weirdly, a text from an unknown number pops up.

‘I had a very enjoyable time getting to know you at the bar with Yolanda on Friday. Let me know when you’re free so you and I can get to know each other exclusively. -Brendon Park’

You blink in surprise, jaw hanging open in shock for just a second before your fingers are working on instinct, finding a familiar contact, pressing call and waiting.

“He's not as bad as he seems! I swear on my life! I would never give your number to someone you actually hate and I saw the way you eye fucked him before he came over—”

The words die on her tongue as soon as you start to threaten her with your jaw clenched, “Yolanda Garcia, I am going to kill you.”

divider from cursed-carmine <3

[justalittlepitt]

Jack moves quietly through his house, refusing to turn on any lights, make any more noise than usual, or risk waking you up. He didn’t even open the garage when he got home to park his truck. His go bag is set right beside the bench as he sighs in relief at being home.

He’s not usually home at this time of night. Not unless he has the night off, but today he went in early. Apparently a few of the day shift residents had gotten a little too drunk last night and called in sick. Jack had gone in to help out, easily convinced by Dana’s pleading on the other end of the line when she’d called around mid morning to ask Jack to come in.

He’d wished he’d said no. He said as much when he was leaving, not convincing himself or his team as he clocked out of a 14 hour unplanned shift. “After today, you won’t ever catch me in this place during my nonworking hours,” he’d joked, not convincing the staff and least of all, himself.

His journey back to your shared bedroom was nearly silent. All he could think about was taking a nice long shower and sliding into bed with you. It was all he’d been thinking about as his shift dragged on.

He yawned tiredly, eyes blinking slowly as he maneuvered the familiar halls of his home, barely paying attention as he reached the bedroom door. His hand closed around the handle turning and pushing the door open with the intent of sneaking in silently.

But no.

Instead, the door opened and an intense pain started at his nose and spread outwards. “Fuck me!” He yelled, hands cupping his nose as he curled forward.

“Jack?!” He heard your panicked voice ask, though he could barely hear you over his racing heartbeat that pounded in his ears.

“What the fuck was that?!” Came his muffled question.

“I got scared!” You cried, scrambling toward the lamp to flick it on to find the sight of your husband sitting against the wall with his face concealed by his hands.

“I live here!”

You wrung your hands together nervously, “you never told me you were coming home early! I got up to get water and heard suspicious fumbling around the door!”

Jack groans, feeling the familiar hot drip of blood on his hands, “if you thought someone was breaking in, why didn’t you call me? Or the police?”

“You taught me how to throw a proper punch!” You defend, scrambling to grab a discarded shirt from the hamper when you see the crimson seeping from his clasped hands.

Your hands are gentle as you press the fabric to his face but he still hisses, the throbbing persists. His eyes meet your own, feeling his heart warm affectionately at the genuine fear on your face and the shame. Your eyes are wide and gaze apologetic as you pout at him, "I'm really sorry."

Jack pulls the t-shirt away from his face and palpates the tender area around his nose. Nothing feels broken, but he might be sore or bruised. He exhales tiredly and manages a weak smile, hey, at the very least, the pain in his nose too away from the pain in his leg. Silver linings or whatever. "It was an accident, Sweetheart. I'm alright," he reassures you.

"I totally knocked you flat on your ass," you tell him as you help him back to his feet.

Jack chuckles good-naturedly, squeezing your hand affectionately, "it was a good punch, I'll give you that much. However, I still stand by the fact that you should have called someone if you thought there was an intruder."

You help Jack sit down on the edge of the bed before helping him remove his prosthesis. You narrow your eyes up at him playfully, "You could have also texted me to let me know you were on your way home."

"I have definitely learned my lesson."

divider from cursed-carmine <3