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[luvr-bunnyy]

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the hours we borrow | frank langdon x fem!resident!reader | series pt 3

lattes and love at first sight | jaime tartt x fem! baker!reader

fresh bread and the living dead | carmen berzatto x gn!reader

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[luvr-bunnyy]

soft place to land

FRANK LANGDON x FEM!READER

warnings: no use of y/n, no reader description, uhhhm frank calls you ‘honey’ and ‘baby’ and i’m not sorry about it, mentions of migraine but nothing like descriptive or graphic, uhhhhh that’s it i think

[a/n: i am a chronic migraine girly pop and i’ve had a pretty persistent one today so that’s where this is coming from, one shot number five y’all…anyways, enjoy !!]

After getting your text that you’d left work early, Frank was grateful that he’d be home in just a few short hours.

He had a sneaking suspicion that you were most likely nursing a migraine, especially when you were having some light sensitivity that morning and your neck seemed a little stiffer than usual.

However, there was no satisfaction in knowing that his suspicions were correct.

He’d made a brief stop to pick up some dinner before finally heading home and when he’d opened up the front door, he knew he was right.

It was dead silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning which, by the speed of goosebumps spreading across his skin, was blasting frigid air into the apartment.

All the lights had been off except for one, the warmth of the lone lamp in the living room brought him some comfort, knowing that the apartment wasn’t empty, that just down the hall, there you were.

He makes quick work of getting his shoes and jacket off, haphazardly dropping his backpack, he places the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter before making the trek to the room.

As quietly as possible, he pushes the door open, wincing at the momentary shrill squeak of the hinges.

The sight of you makes his heart sink.

You were buried underneath the duvet, head tucked underneath the pillow just enough that the top part of your head was covered, only your nose and mouth visible.

There’s a, now soft, gel ice pack resting on the bedside table, along with your trusty water bottle and over the counter meds.

He knew you didn’t favor your prescribed medication, hated how it basically rendered you immobile, knocking you out so heavily that your limbs would feel like lead weights but he also knew that over the counter stuff could only accomplish so much.

He carefully takes a seat on the side of the bed, the mattress dipping makes you stir, “…Frankie?”

“Yeah honey, I’m here.” He keeps his voice as low as possible, not wanting to aggravate your symptoms anymore. “How’re you doing?”

“M’fine.” You mumble and a fond scoff leaves his throat.

He reaches forward and gently cups the back of your neck, squeezing gently, feeling the stiff muscles beneath your skin jump at his touch. “I’m gonna move the pillow, okay?”

You make a noncommittal noise and that’s enough confirmation for him, moving it away so he can fully look at you. Your eyes are shut, the crease between your brows accentuating the small vein in your forehead that seems to be thumping beneath your skin.

He slides his other hand underneath the side of your head so that both his hands are now enclosing the nape of your neck, thumbs resting at the hinge of your jaw. “I’m gonna move your head a little, let me know if it hurts too much or anything feels tight.”

Your face scrunches up as you brace for the movement and as gently as possible, he tilts your head to the side before bringing it forward so your chin dips towards your chest.

Once he’s satisfied, he lays your head back on the pillow, keeping a hand cradling the side of your face. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

At the request, your eyes scrunch up, not quite ready to face reality yet but he doesn’t rush you, his thumb gently runs back and forth across your temple. “C’mon honey, let me see those gorgeous eyes…”

It’s a win in his book when he sees the way you still manage a little smile at his words, even if it comes off a little bit like a grimace.

He waits until your eyes finally blink open, eyelashes fluttering at the movement. Your gaze is unfocused until you finally meet his. “Hi.” His smile is as soft as warm butter, gaze assessing but still fond.

“…Hi.” You blink up at him a few times and he notices how glassy your eyes look but they seem to be responding just fine. No red flags thus far. “What’s my diagnosis, doc?”

He scoff a laugh at your teasing, in disbelief that you’re still trying to crack jokes in this state but he plays along nonetheless. “It’s not looking good…we may need to do a brain transplant.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad…” You close your eyes again and turn into his palm, seeking out his warmth.

“Anything I can do, hmm? Want me to get you a fresh ice pack?”

It’s quiet as you nuzzle into his palm before your hum out a ‘no.’

“Just need you…”

His heart constricts in his chest.

So, he quickly changes out of his clothes and slides into bed right beside you, helping you get comfortable against his chest. One hand slips underneath your shirt so he can press his palm into your back, gently rubbing up and down along your spine while the other rests on the back of your head. “I got you, honey. Try and get some sleep, okay?” He presses a kiss to your head, “I’ll be right here.”

Once you’ve settled, he relaxes against the pillows, eyes getting heavier as the day catches up to him so when you speak up, he almost jumps. “Frank…”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can you squeeze my head?”

His palm freezes, stilling along your mid-back. “…what?”

“I swear it’ll make me feel better-“

“Honey, I’m not gonna squeeze your head.”

“…okay.”

[luvr-bunnyy]

three’s company

SAMIRA MOHAN x FEM!READER x JACK ABBOT

warnings: none really, uhhhh no use of y/n, no reader description, maybe implied infidelity if you squint, mentions of “experimentation” in college, reader is lowkey a manipulator…i also think this is technically jack’s pov BUT i think that’s it

[a/n: guys we’re on a roll here with one shot número cuatro, i just need them both like challengers style…i am so down bad for mohabbot it’s not even funny…anyways, enjoy! ]

The first time it had become “a thing” happened after having been with Samira for the better part of a year but it wasn’t much of a surprise.

He had been warned, in every affectionate way possible, that you and her were a package deal.

Both of you had met through a mutual friend when she was in school, a friend that neither of you speak to anymore, and you were really the only aspect of her personal life that wasn’t connected to The Pitt. Thick as thieves, you were.

It always made him happy to see Samira running around their place to get ready on her days off, putting together a cute outfit, doing her hair and make up, the giddy excitement as she told him what the two of you had planned for the day before giving him a quick kiss and heading out the door.

The three of you had hung out on many occasions and he liked you. He understood why Samira enjoyed your company and he found himself overjoyed that she has a friend like you around.

But sometimes, sometimes an irrational pang of jealousy would worm its way into his chest, like now.

A few empty bowls and what he assumed was a charcuterie board sat on the coffee table along with two empty wine glasses, two copies of some fantasy book he vaguely remembers Samira having mentioned, and the television remote but that’s not the cause of the twisting feeling in his chest.

You were both tangled up on the couch, dead asleep, Samira’s leg hiked over your hips, she was in one of his t-shirts with, what he could clearly see, nothing but panties on underneath and your hand was low, all but palming the softness of Samira’s thigh.

Now, he was a secure man. Secure in his job, his masculinity, and his relationship. He also undoubtedly trusted Samira and he trusted you, he was sure of that but sometimes he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

Taking a steadying breath, he went through the usual motions of his post shift routine. Shoes off at the door, backpack tucked away in the coat closet, jacket shed and hung on a hook, house shoes on and as he finally stepped into the room, he realizes that maybe he wasn’t as quiet as he thought he was.

The familiar sound of Samira’s soft yawn was followed by some rustling and the muted padding of her feet against the wood floors, there was some hesitation before she pushes the door open.

Jack’s shoulders drop immediately, heart swelling as he lays his eyes on her. Hair a little frizzy, eyes still droopy, body relaxed and soft with sleep.

“Hey…didn’t hear you come in.” She mumbles, stifling a yawn as she steps closer to where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

Purely instinctively, his legs spread wider so she can stand between them, his hands gravitate to her waist, palms heavy and warm as she rests her hands on his shoulders, letting one move upward until she’s carding her fingers through his curls.

“I know, the both of you were pretty dead to the world when I came in.” His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles up at her, oh so softly. He tilts his head to press a kiss into her wrist, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides. “You two have a good night?”

“Mhmm, just the usual.” She hums but she catches it, the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Jack sighs, gazing at her a little longer, planting one more kiss to her wrist before gently squeezing her waist. “Didn’t know she was gonna be here, that’s all…” His attempt to shrug nonchalantly backfires as a small frown etches itself onto her face.

“Oh…I’m sorry, it was last minute. We both finished the last chapter of our book so I invited her over to talk about it then, well, one thing led to another and we started watching the new season of ‘Mormon Wives’. I still should’ve let you know she was staying over…”

“It’s okay, honey. Really, no problem.” He hums, really not wanting to make this a whole thing cause it wasn’t.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just-“ He was cut off by the sound of the stove top clicking on in the kitchen and he sighs, half amused half exasperated. “I hope she’s making breakfast for the three of us and not just her.” There was no malice to his teasing and Samira just scoffs a laugh, patting his shoulder before making her way to the kitchen.

The second was when Jack had been venting to Robby about how it seemed like you were always around, taking up all of Samira’s free time and attention.

Trinity and Dennis had overheard and about as subtle as a bull in a china shop, Trinity winced at his words.

Jack halted midway through his thought, both he and Robby looking pointedly over at the two, Dennis nervously nudges Trinity and she sheepishly makes eye contact. “I- sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Well I think you did.” Jack tilts his head. “What is it?”

Dennis shakes his head, begging her with his eyes to please, for the love of God, don’t say anything else but never being one to do what she’s told, Trinity just shrugs, attempting nonchalance. “Well, maybe she and Samira ‘experimented’ during college and they have kind of a weird bond because of it.”

If Robby didn’t know any better, he’d think Jack was seconds away from keeling over. “Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here…” He gives Trinity a nasty, sassy little side eye before fully turning his attention to Jack. “Just talk to her, brother. That’s all you can do. Assumptions and theories will only get you so far.

But Jack couldn’t hear him one bit as he looks Trinity dead in the eye. “You think that’s really what happened?”

Robby groans a sigh, running a hand down his face before patting Jack on the shoulder and walking away.

The third time, well, the third time it became very clear.

To celebrate Javadi’s 21st, everyone had come out to some club chosen by Princess and Trinity, and of course, Samira insisted on inviting you along. Jack didn’t mind one bit, listening to yours and here excited chattering as he drove but he was way too sober for what he was looking at.

You and Samira were on the dance floor, chest to chest, bodies swaying together and all right in Jack’s field of vision.

Samira’s back to him had given him a full view of your wandering hands. You leaned down and your lips were dangerously close to her neck. Samira, however, simply leaned her head back, baring her neck to you and when Jack looked back up, you were looking right at him, eyes lidded with hunger and he realized then that he wasn’t jealous of you getting all of Samira’s attention. He was jealous that neither of you were paying him any attention.

He had just begun to adjust himself in his, now tightening, jeans when you whisper something to Samira, whatever it was seems to excite her as she looks over her shoulder right at him.

And suddenly, he knew, he was in for a very long night.

[luvr-bunnyy]

just my type

DENNIS WHITAKER x FEM!READER

warnings: none that i can think of, no use of y/n, no real reader description, reader is mentioned to be ‘beautiful’ and ‘pretty’, also has long enough hair to brush behind the ear, dennis is implied to be straight here…uhhh that’s it

[a/n: idk man here’s one shot number three…after the most recent episode…i’ve been thinking about huckleberry A LOT…anyways ! i hope you enjoy!!]

Dennis wasn’t one to spend money he didn’t have. Even now, being roommates with Trinity and the pay bump that came with officially being a Resident Doctor, he still favored being a penny pincher.

He wasn’t stingy, just reasonable.

That changed when a new coffee shop opened up just half a block away from the PTMC.

Doctors and Nurses alike had sung their praises, especially because they offered a hefty discount for hospital personnel, unlike the corporate coffee shops around that only had a 10% discount.

He was unsure when Trinity and Victoria wanted to lug him to said coffee shop before their shift but when he had seen that an iced latte would cost him a mere $3.25 instead of the usual $6.50, he was sold.

Well…not really.

What had really sold him on committing to waking up an extra 20 minutes early, was you.

He’s never gotten the chance to speak with you, not yet, at least.

Every time he came in, you were behind the espresso machine. Churning out drinks like it was second nature, moving easily through the motions.

The only interactions he had to cling to was when you’d call out his name, sliding his drink over to him at the end of the bar, your lips pulled into a soft smile, tone a little sheepish as you wished him a good shift. He’d attempt to return the smile and stumble through a quick but genuine thanks but that was it.

Sometimes he’d find a little note written in your messy scrawl on the cup, accompanied by a lopsided but charming smiley face.

What followed was less encouraging, as it was usually Victoria and Trinity poking fun at him for his subpar and just plain sad socialization skills as they walked over to the hospital.

Even when he had finally decided that he’d “man up” and actually talk to you, something was always in the way. This morning in particular had been a punch straight to his ego.

He and Trinity had walked in at around the same time they usually did and as your coworker greeted them, they both stopped short of the register as your stifled laugh rang out through the almost empty storefront, accompanied by the soft hum of whatever indie playlist was on in the background.

There at the end of the bar was none other than Frank Langdon. That in and of itself was not the problem since lots of their fellow ED coworkers, both day and night shift, made their way through here before or after their shift. The problem was, all your attention was on Frank. There was a noticeable fluster in your expression, your smile bright as you listened to him blab about God knows what, his eyes never leaving yours even when you looked away, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

Your contributions to the conversation didn’t seem like they were strictly polite or customer service oriented but genuine intrigue and rapport.

Dennis immediately felt silly.

He had no right to indulge in this ugly jealousy swelling in his chest. He was merely disappointed in himself, seeing Frank easily do what he himself had been too afraid to.

As Trinity took a step forward to order, Dennis immediately averted his gaze, avoiding any chance of interaction as Frank finally stepped out.

Once it was his turn to order, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at you as you worked, even if he missed his chance, he’d at least let himself indulge in merely admiring your beauty.

“It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Whitaker.”

He almost thought that he’d imagined it but when he looks up, you’re looking right at him. The eye contact didn’t last as long as he’d like, seeing as you were still making Trinity’s drink but when you glance up again in polite confusion, he realizes that he’s just staring and he did not respond at all.

“Oh uhm sorry, it’s nice to see you too.” He clears his throat before quickly adding, “And just, Dennis, please…”

You hum in amusement, “Right, well still, good to see you, just Dennis.”

He chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he watches you slide Trinity’s drink to her and to his shock, she takes it and starts walking towards the door, not without nudging him and muttering a pointed, “Don’t fuck this up, huckleberry.”

He watches her as she reaches the door and wonders how pathetic it would look if he’d called out, begging her not to leave him alone with the pretty barista.

“So…what does a Doctor like yourself usually do after a long shift?”

“Hmm?” The confused hum that leaves his throat is much more high pitched than he would’ve liked, causing a rush of embarrassment to warm his skin. “Oh uhm well, Trinity and I usually order takeout if we’re uhm if we’re too tired to cook and she’s been making me watch this show called uh ‘Vamderpump Rules’…I think? Nothing too crazy.” As he rattles off, he misses the way your expression drops just a tad in disappointment.

“Oh, well it must be nice to be able to work at the same hospital as your girlfriend…”

At your words his already big eyes almost pop out of his head, a mix between a laugh and scoff leaving his throat. “What? No uhm no, she’s not. We’re not uh- we’re just roommates. She’s not my type.”

He also realizes, that isn’t much better as your expression morphs into what seems like disappointed understanding and the heat travels up his neck to fully engulf his face as he waves his hands in distress. “I just mean- SHE’S GAY, NOT-“ He clears his throat, attempting to salvage any semblance of confidence he has left. “I’m not-“

You almost feel bad at the amusement currently filling you, watching him fluster and flounder over his words. This is the most you’ve gotten out of him in the past month he’s been coming in and he seems a lot more dorky than you’d expected.

“Oh my God, I can never come here again.” He’s now buried his face in his hands, sighing heavily and clearly miserable.

“Well, I don’t know about that…” You bite your bottom lip, hoping you don’t sound too tickled, you slide his drink over the counter. “I’d really miss you if you never came back…Dr. Whitaker.”

He takes a moment to recompose himself before dropping his hands to his sides, you’ve already gone back to cleaning something behind the espresso machine and he’s a little grateful for this small reprieve as he weakly grabs the cup and turns to leave.

Once he’s back out in the chilly Pittsburgh morning, he goes to take a sip of his coffee but halts his movements halfway through, there on the lid, you’ve written, ‘i really hope i am your type then <3 (412) xxx - xxxx’

He’s in complete shock, rereading the note again before risking glancing through the glass windows, only to find you already looking his way.

Your eyes almost glittering above your hopeful smile, hand lifting in a shaky wave.

He returns the smile, just as wide, lifting his cup in thanks before finally making his trek to the hospital, swearing that his latte taste sweeter than usual.

[luvr-bunnyy]

just stay…please

MELISSA KING x FEM!READER

warnings: none

[a/n: okay here’s another one shot, and again, apologies if it’s shit, i’m a kingdon shipper BUT i did want to see this scene with someone else taking care of her so…anyways, enjoy !]

You had been getting coffee when you’d gotten a call from a Dana Evans, the Charge Nurse of the PTMC.

She seemed a little unsure, saying your name as if she’d been reading it off of a form and asking to confirm that you were, in fact, the emergency contact for Melissa King.

It was a bit of a shock that she’d have you down as her emergency contact but that had worn off when you realized that it meant something had happened, enough to warrant you getting a phone call.

Dana hadn’t really explained too much, only mentioning that there had been a minor incident involving Melissa but that she was okay and the situation was handled. Regardless of that, you knew she was stressed out enough. Her awaiting deposition looming over her like a dark storm cloud.

So, abandoning your coffee, you made your way to the hospital. You had managed to calm yourself down on the drive over, knowing you’d be no help or comfort to her if you just showed up, guns blazing but you couldn’t help the way your heart was knocking against your ribs as Lupe, the front desk clerk, guided you through the double doors and into the E.D.

The visitors badge stuck to your shirt felt like it weighed a ton, your eyes darting this way and that as you desperately seek that familiar head of sleek blonde.

You hadn’t even realized that Lupe had introduced you to someone and was now gone, presumably back to the front desk and you were now looking at a tall, lanky man, eyes strikingly blue as he gazed at you expectantly and you realize he must’ve said something that you missed.

“Uhm sorry, I- I wasn’t uhm-“ You took a deep breath, ignoring the curious stares from what you had assumed were other doctors. “I’m here to see Mel- sorry, Dr. King.”

“Yeah, Dana mentioned she called you.” He smiles, small but genuine. “I’m Dr. Langdon or, you can just call me Frank.” He takes a moment to shake your hand before speaking again. “Did she mention anything about what had happened?”

“Not really? Just that there had been a minor incident but that Mel was okay, I uhm- I thought I’d just come and make sure she really was alright.”

“Right, well that’s no problem. I can take you to her.” He led you through the chaos. “She was helping stitch up a patient and there was an incident, she took a fall off of one of the stools and hit the back of her head but there’s no need to worry. She got a full work up, there’s no concussion or major damage. Just a bump and a little headache.”

He could tell from the way your expression twists up in worry that the only real comfort would be seeing for yourself that she was in tact.

He also couldn’t help but wonder what your relationship was to Mel. All he could get out of Dana was that you weren’t a blood relative, just listed as ‘other’ on the emergency form.

You waited at the threshold of the room, you could tell that the lights had been shut off for her and it brought you a smidge of comfort.

As the door opens, Mel looks up, her face still scrunched up in discomfort and overwhelm. “Mel, you’ve got a visitor.”

As she registers his words she sits up, a little confused as to who exactly would be visiting her at work but as Frank steps aside and you step forward, her whole body seems to relax.

Your attempt to hide your worry behind a gentle smile seemingly works as Mel sheepishly returns it.

Frank watches, almost in wonder and complete understanding, finding it endearing that her pupils may as well have been hearts with the way she’s looking at you and he quickly excuses himself, shutting the door behind him.

“What’re you doing here?” She finally speaks up, hoping she doesn’t sound at all ungrateful.

“Uhm well, I got a call from the Charge Nurse. She said that you got hurt, I thought I’d come check up on you.” You pull the visitor chair closer to the bed, slowly sinking down onto the rigid plastic.

“Well, this is a hospital. If anything were to happen to me this is probably the best place to be.” Her candor was refreshing, an obvious sign that she was more than okay.

“I know.” You nodded, “I’d still be worried sick though.”

Her eyebrows pull together in slight confusion as she looks at you. You were looking down at your lap, hands wringing together. “You’d be worried?”

That gets you to meet her gaze. “Of course I would, Melly. I care about you.” She takes in the way you bite the inside of your cheek, a warm feeling overtaking her chest.

She always did like when you called her that. Something that nobody else did.

She also felt this unexplainable need to reach out, maybe she could blame it on her injury, minor but not allowing her to think straight. Although in her mind, the movement was more confident than it is.

You watch as she slowly reaches, unsure as she opens her hand up, a little shaky but you get the gist and meet her halfway. Taking her hand in yours, the back of it resting in your palm as you gently press the pad of your thumb to the center of her palm. A grounding pressure.

“I know you’ve been dreading your deposition and this whole situation probably isn’t making it any easier…is there anything you need from me? I can pick up Becca later, grab dinner so you can have some alone time first? Or I can-“

“Just stay with me for a little longer…please?” She interrupts carefully, knowing that you’d keep rattling off ideas if she hadn’t.

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen slightly. “Yeah, I can do that.”

She relaxes back against the bed, her hand still in yours and she wonders if you can feel her pulse. The way her heart shoves against her chest like it wants out, like it’d do anything to be with you.

She keeps her gaze on you, admiring the soft lines of your features in the dim light. The way your eyelashes flutter every time you blink, your gaze glued to her hand in yours as you speak up. “Mel, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You hesitate before speaking again, unsure of whether you truly want to know, “Why do you have me as your emergency contact?” You wince, internally chastising yourself for how cruel that may have seemed. “I mean, I don’t mind at all, I’m just…curious.”

Mel takes a moment to pull her thoughts together. “Well, I put you down because if something were to happen, you’re the person I’d want to see, and I also know that Becca trusts you. So if something were to happen to me, she’d take it better coming from you.”

The way she says it is so matter of fact, so plain, it makes your heart stutter, makes your mouth dry, your cheeks warm. “Melly-“

You’re cut off by the door opening, Mel looks over but your eyes stay on her. “Sorry to interrupt, Langdon said you might need another ice pack by now.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks Princess.” Mel nods at the nurse before sitting forward a bit so she can take the ice pack that had been resting behind her head and put the new one in its place.

Princess, with the warm pack in hand, glances at where Mel’s hand is still in yours and the way your grip seems to tighten the slightest bit, your free hand holding the fresh ice pack in place so she can sit comfortably.

Later on, when Mel’s finally feeling a little better, the others at the Central Hub watch through the glass as you re-do Mel’s signature braid, your movements gentle but efficient and as you tie it off you lean forward near her ear and say something that has Mel’s cheeks going pink and a smile splitting her lips, one they’ve never had the honor of seeing before.

It was clear to Langdon that your were more than the ‘other’ you’d been listed as on Mel’s emergency contact form but it was also clear that it was something neither of you knew how to approach, but with the way Mel seemed much more herself after you’d left, he hoped that it was something you guys would be able to work out.

[luvr-bunnyy]

strike out

PARKER ELLIS x FEM!READER

warnings: uhhh it’s suggestive but nothing graphic or too smutty, implied mohabbot and hucklerobby, no use of y/n, no reader description, maybe out of character for a few of them so…sorry about that, this is probably fucking terrible,

[a/n: i truly haven’t been able to write for shit, i’m probably gonna do a few one shots to try and get back into it, try writing for different characters and whatever and i’m really hoping that works…anyways, i hope you enjoy !! ]

The bar top feels sticky underneath your forearms, the heat of all the bodies in the room starting to get to you as a light sheen of sweat begins to coat your skin.

The music is tolerable, not overtly loud but enough to where you could feel the bass thumping through the soles of your shoes.

“There you go, dirty shirley temple.” The bartender slides the glass over, “Wanna start a tab?”

“Uhh…yeah, sure.” You dig through your purse, pulling your card from your wallet and handing it over.

Honestly, you had no idea what to expect when Trinity and Dennis had insisted you come out with them. They’d made sure you knew that a bunch of their coworkers would be there so you didn’t know how much you’d be drinking, but better safe than sorry.

With your drink in hand, you hesitate to step away from the bar, eyes darting around to try and locate your friends until someone catches your eye.

“Hey uh, seems like you’ve got someone’s attention.” Shen scoffs a laugh as he nudges Ellis, subtly tilting his head over in your direction.

She raises an eyebrow before subtly following his gaze, her eyes landing on you, amusement clear as your eyes dart away from her. It was pretty dim in the bar but she’d bet money that your cheeks were heating up as you pretend to look around.

Seeing as you were no longer looking her way, she took a moment to size you up. She wasn’t one to judge a book based on its cover but your outfit and makeup, paired with your manicured nails, long and tidy, made her assume that your attention wasn’t anything but purely curious.

Taking a sip of her beer, she looked back to Shen. “What? Not your type?” He inquires, quickly glancing back over to you. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah…but I don’t think she swings that way.”

“What’re we looking at?” The suddenness of Abbot’s intrusion makes Shen startle before pointing you out again as Jack settles into a seat, you were now looking at your phone, the light of the screen illuminating your features a bit more.

“Ellis is too chicken to go introduce herself.”

“Oh, come on? Really?” Ellis rolls her eyes at Abbot’s teasing, taking another sip of her beer.

“I’m not chicken, I just don’t think she’s…not straight and honestly, I don’t feel like getting accused of harassment or anything.”

Abbot took a moment, eyes squinting a bit as he really looked you over. “Wait…isn’t that-“ Both Shen and Ellis glance at each other before at him, curious as to why their attending, who is clearly much older than you, knows who you are. “I think that’s Santos and Whittaker’s friend.”

“Huh?” Shen seems to be buffering with this new information when your gaze lands in their direction again, well more like a bit past them.

Your face lights up with a smile as you make your way over and that’s when they hear it, Trinity’s calling you over.

“Fucking finally, I thought you bailed on us!” You simply roll your eyes as you’re pulled into a quick hug by her before your attention turns to Dennis.

The three of them watch as you throw your arms around his shoulders, careful with your drink, his encircling your waist and as you pull away, his hands linger at your lower back, you’re comfortable in his hold as you exchange a few words.

“Wait, hold on…I thought he was-“ Shen starts.

“Want to introduce us to your friend, Whittaker?” Abbot asks, leaning back in his seat, not wanting Shen jumping to conclusions.

“Oh right, of course!”

Names get thrown around, your eyes darting to each new person that’s introduced and Ellis doesn’t miss the way you stifle a giddy laugh and nudge Dennis when Robby’s introduced.

Then it’s her turn.

You shift underneath her gaze and Ellis thinks maybe her initial assessment of you was wrong.

“Parker Ellis.” She holds her hand out, thoroughly enjoying the way you bite your bottom lip, head tilting, playing up the cute act as you shake her hand.

Throughout the night, you had given her little looks, nudged at her calf with the tip of your shoe, made sure to make eye contact with her when you had eaten the maraschino cherry that had been floating in your drink but that was the extent of it and as cruel as it was, Ellis was enjoying the growing frustration in your eyes.

She was also enjoying your new tactic at getting her attention.

You had been dancing with Samira now and despite having just met, that seemed like no issue, both of you tipsy enough to set aside your reservations. She watched as you gripped Samira’s hips, her forearms resting on your shoulders as you both swayed to the music.

However, when all that had done was make Jack shift in his seat before whisking Samira away, you had enough.

She followed as you made your way over to the bar. “- want to close out, please.”

“Aww come on, already calling it a night?”

You seem surprised by her presence but only spare her a glance before looking down at the bar top, your nails tapping mutely against the worn wood.

“Uhm yeah, it’s getting pretty late and I’ve got some stuff to do tomorrow…”

“You can’t stay for one more drink?”

Now this got your attention.

Your whole body turns towards her, leaning your weight on the bar. Your head was buzzing, you had spent the whole night trying to catch her eye, had already accepted the assumed rejection, preparing to go back to your apartment and spend the night alone in front of your tv but now she’s…interested?

The owlish way you’re blinking at her must’ve given away your confusion, seeing as she just tilts her head cockily, smile tugging the edge of her lips.

The bartender clears his throat, breaking through the tension. “Tab’s all settled.” Your card nestled between the tips of his fore and middle fingers.

“Uhm right, th-uh thank you.” You gingerly take it from him, holding the weightless plastic in your hand before turning back to Ellis. “Guess I won’t be staying for another drink.” You shrug weakly, voice thin and dejected.

She takes pity on you, reaching out, both hands settling onto your waist and tugging you closer. With your lips pressed together and the relentless music, she almost misses the squeak of surprise you let out as you willingly let yourself be pulled, your hands resting on her firm biceps, the hand not holding your card gripping as she leans down, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “How about for one more song then, hmm?”

When she pulls back she’s close enough that if you shifted forward, your forehead would meet the bridge of her nose. She watches almost hungrily as your mouth parts, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips. “Okay, maybe just one more song…”

You immediately miss the weight of her hands once they’ve gone, she leaves you at the bar to clumsily put your card away before you follow after her.

The music changes as you join her on the area that’s been dubbed the dance floor.

Still upbeat just a tad bit more sultry.

This time there’s no hesitation as she pulls you close, hips flush as she regains her firm grip on your waist. Your nerves apparent as you hesitantly let your hands trail up from her biceps, to her shoulders, the tips of your nails grazing the nape of her neck.

“Just relax baby, I’ve got you.” The way she almost purrs her words makes you melt, your entire body relaxing in her hold almost immediately.

Hidden in the crowd and knowing that you’re both most likely out of sight of her coworkers, she adjusts you in her hold so she can slip her leg in between yours and the satisfaction is almost immediate when she can hear your breath hitch.

Your heart is going a mile a minute, anticipation and excitement thrumming in your veins at finally getting a taste of what you’ve been wanting all night.

“So what was your game plan? You flirt then what, no follow through?” Her hands drift lower until they rest on your hips, grip firm as she leans towards your ear again, “Tell me to stop and I’ll back off.” Her lips were dangerously close to the sensitive part beneath your ear, “You’ve gotta use your big girl words.”

“Don’t.” You couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed by your clear desperation as you grip her shirt. “Please don’t stop.”

Your pleading doesn’t go unanswered, though.

She starts to move your hips, shallowly back and forth against her as her lips finally meet your skin.

You fight to keep your composure as you all but grind against her thigh, her hold makes it almost impossible to get what you need, leaving you completely at the mercy of her hands.

Your breathing starts to pick up, chest moving against hers as her teeth graze your neck teasingly, your head falling back to open yourself up to her and you can feel her smirk against you and as she sucks at the skin just below your ear, you fail to contain yourself, a strained moan leaving your lips. “Please…”

“Please, what? Hmm? Tell me what you want?”

And just as your lips part once more, it seems that fate is not on your side tonight.

Trinity calling out to you is almost enough to make you scowl.

“Fuck me…” You groan, hesitantly removing yourself from Ellis’s hold.

“I was trying to.” She teases but you aren’t amused.

“There you are- oh! Hey, Ellis.” Trinity glances between the both of you skeptically before turning to you. “Dennis wants to go to that club a few blocks down and if we leave now we’ll make it before they start charging cover fees.”

A brief look of guilt flashes over your features before you agree, telling her you’ll meet them outside.

You sheepishly look up, fiddling with your hands. “I uhm, I guess I’m heading out.”

“Guess so…” Ellis simply nods. There’s no hard feelings but she’s definitely bummed out that she won’t have a pretty thing in her bed tonight.

She watches you as you head out into the night before she orders another beer and heads over to where she’d been sitting.

“Strike out?” Abbot snickers, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Ellis just sighs, “Seems that way.”

[luvr-bunnyy]

your frank series is making me cryyyyyyyy omg ily

ahhhh thank you so much, lovely ! i’m glad it’s enjoyable and i appreciate the reblog as well !! 🫶🏼😭 ily

[luvr-bunnyy]

Ch. 3 The Hours We Borrow

FRANK LANGDON X FEM!RESIDENT!READER

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word count: 3.8k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: none really, swearing, possible medical inaccuracies, rehab/recovery inaccuracies, no use of y/n, mentions of langdon's wife abby, reminder that they're separated, med students mentioned but i'm honestly unsure if they were implied to have started the first ep of season two or not so...uhhhhhhhhhh i think that's all, kinda proof read, oh! and maybe ooc mel king? i really hope not

[a/n: okay...i really tried my best with this one but, once again, i feel like it's pretty sucky, i've re-read it so many times the words have lost meaning...anyways! enjoy chapter 3!]

“What?” Your disbelief was palpable as Jack broke the news to you. Hand offs had just finished and the day shift was starting to trickle out. 

“Yeah, sorry kid. Collins took a job back in Oregon and they’re down a senior resident. Gloria wants you back on days.” 

You really couldn’t believe it, you’d been ten months into the night shift and you felt like you had just started to hit your stride, you wanted more time.

But you knew it had been too good to be true. 

“And Robby knows about this?” Jack had just barely been able to hide the grimace on his face but you had caught it and scoffed a laugh. “Oh, great. So, what? You’re his little carrier pigeon? He really couldn’t tell me himself?” 

Jack gave you a look, a warning. “Come on, now. Would you really have taken it any better if he was the one that told you?”

You knew he was right. 

Had Robby been the one to tell you, you probably would’ve thrown a punch or something…well, maybe not but you definitely would’ve considered it. 

“Touché.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Jack took this as his opportunity out of this conversation but as he walked away, your head snapped upward. “Wait! When do I start?”

“Next week!” He had stepped into one of the trauma rooms for a quick escape, greeting a patient, completely ignoring your call of indignation. 

“WHAT!?” 

“Wait? So you're gonna be back on days now?” Frank’s question makes you lean back into the plush couch of the rec room, a sigh leaving you as you sip your coffee. 

“Yeah, I’m back tomorrow.” Your thumb grazes the cardboard sleeve on your cup before you shrug. “Collins went back home, took a job there. I also heard from Princess that she’s adopting a kid.” 

“Huh…well, good for her.” He took a sip of his own coffee, thoughtfully before continuing. “I’m sure the others’ll be glad you’re back.” 

“Yeah…”

Through all the letters, phone calls, and visits, you had chosen very carefully what to share with Frank. Not necessarily to shield him from anything, he was making a lot of progress with therapy and he was more than okay to hear about the goings on of The Pitt but there were just things that you decided he’d be okay not knowing. 

Like your fallout with Robby. 

Knowing him, you knew he’d feel some kind of guilt that his addiction had also poisoned your life. That he’d been the reason for Robby singling you out but that wasn’t his burden to bear. It was Robby’s. 

For him, the reason you switched over to nights was a need for a change in scenery and that’s that.

“Especially Mel.” He added with a small smile. 

He’d asked about her a lot. Wanting to know how she’d been settling, if she was okay. 

“Yeah…I’m actually seeing her later today.” Frank watches as a small but fond smile tugs at your lips, a warm feeling spreading across his chest. “The King sisters and I will be grabbing some boba and going to the Color Me Mine by the facility.”

Frank sat up, a slight expression of disbelief flashing through his face. “You’ve met Becca?” 

“Mhmm, she likes me.” You hummed, almost smugly. “She wasn’t a huge fan of the boba idea but I know Mel loves it, so I suggested we go paint afterwards, then she was all for it.” 

“I hate to admit it, but I’m a little jealous.” The playful lilt in his voice makes your heart jump. 

“Aww, don’t worry. I’ll paint you a mug.” Your cheeks were warm as you looked away from his smile but you caught the way his face scrunched up, your gaze finding its way back to his. “What? You don’t want a mug?”

“You’re a talented Doctor but something tells me you have the artistic talent of a three year old.”

He watches as your jaw drops, eyes shining with mirth, a scoffed laugh leaving your parted lips. “Excuse you!” 

His shoulders begin to shake with hearty laughter, the best kind. A little breathless, full and unabashed, a little squeak here and there. As he fell into his little fit of laughter, even going as far as putting his paper coffee cup down on the coffee table, you took the opportunity to just…watch. Eyes hazy with something you were too scared to name. A warmth spreading throughout your body that made your fingertips feel fuzzy. 

You had deeply missed this.

Missed him. 

Making him laugh during grueling shifts and after a particularly tough case. 

It always made you feel delusional but you swore, up and down, that you were the only person to make him laugh like this. As he catches his breath, coming down from the mini dopamine rush, you look away, afraid of him seeing the look in your eyes and reading you like the pages of his favorite novel. 

As you take a sip of your drink, his smile lingers as he takes in the softness of your features. The way you somehow look more relaxed than he’s seen you in recent days, the way the sunlight filters in through the facility’s streaky windows and halos you in warm light. 

He finds himself glad that you weren’t looking at him. He’d bet that there was nothing but smitten affection clear as day on his features and he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to name what that meant. 

After your visit with Frank and afternoon out with the King sisters, you find yourself a lot less high strung as you step into the PTMC Monday morning. 

As you adjust your stethoscope on the back of your neck, stepping out of the locker room, a familiar and dramatized gasp makes you pause, your shoes squeaking against tile as you stop walking and turn towards the noise. 

“Abbot told us but I just didn’t want to believe it, you traitor.” Shen spat in, what you hoped was, faux upset. 

You frowned in confusion, mouth open in slight disbelief as you looked around, eyes landing back on Shen and pointing at yourself in silent question.

“Yeah. You. What the hell? You’re gonna leave me here with Ellis?” 

“Excuse me? There better be another Ellis that I don’t know about.” The aforementioned Doctor crosses her arms, looking at Shen in pointed annoyance, not unlike a sibling glaring at their younger counterpart. “Cause I know for a fact that you’re not talking about me.” The ghost of a smile pulling at her lips made you relax, shoulders loosening as you sighed and continued to the Central Hub, both Shen and Ellis following. 

“I forgot you weren’t working last night and brought you a coffee. I had to give it to Ellis and she didn’t even drink all of it.” 

“John, for the hundredth time, I did drink it. Unlike you, I don’t spend three hours getting through a single cup of coffee.” He gave a scandalized scoff as both you and Ellis glanced at the cup in his hand, mostly just ice, probably his second of the shift.

“Look..” You sigh, rubbing at the bridge of your nose and getting their attention. “I don’t like this either. If it was up to me, I would’ve permanently switched over to nights but Collins left and as much as I want to strangle Robby, it wouldn’t be fair of me to leave the others hanging so…” You shrugged, “It is what it is.”

Ellis placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I know. We’ve got your back, you know that, right?” You glance at Shen who gives a small nod. “If you need anything, just holler.” 

They both watch as your gaze drops, staring down at your shoes to compose yourself before looking back up just as both Abbot and Robby walk up, the others not far behind. Ellis gives your shoulder one more squeeze and you resort to mouthing a simple, ‘Thank you,’ before Robby starts to speak. 

“Okay, before we start rounds…” His voice trails off as he finally meets your gaze and is met with the chilly sight of annoyance and something a little too akin to hatred. “I…want to welcome back our, now, Senior Resident. She was helping coverage with the night shift but with Collins gone, she has so graciously stepped back onto days.” Your gaze sharpens at the unnecessary inflection of his tone. “These are our two new student doctors, Ogilve and Kwon.” His eyes flitting over to the two briefly before turning back to you. “I trust you know the drill. Presenting, teaching…making sure all meds that are handed out are accounted for-” 

“O-kay! Why don’t we start rounds so that my shift can go home?” Jack clapped his hands, diverting all attention to himself, Shen, and Ellis. Your gaze attached to Robby’s, face screwed up. Had you been a dog, your mouth would’ve been curled up in a snarl, teeth bared, challenging Robby to say another word. “Shen-” 

The noise of the ED had been drowned out by the sound of rushing blood in your ears, your hand curling into fists by your thighs, chest heaving with shallow breaths as anger began to simmer in the pit of your stomach. 

This was a mistake. Why did Robby have to be such a fucking dick? He just had to go and say something about pills. Why couldn’t he get it through his thick skull? The issues he has with Frank has nothing to do with-

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice had broken through the voices in your head like a lighthouse through the miry fog.

“Huh?” You tore your eyes away from Robby and to familiar honeyed hazel eyes dripping in worry. Mel.

“Uhm I just wanted to see if you were okay, we’re moving.” She gestured to the group that had, in fact, started moving as Shen and Ellis present and get everyone up to speed on their patients of the night before. 

“Oh uhm yes. Yeah. I’m okay.” You sigh, knowing that she isn’t believing a single word coming from your lips. “Just a little tired from partying hard with the King sisters.” 

Your jest made her shoulders untense, a small appreciative smile on her lips as the both of you start to move, catching up to everyone else. “That was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?” She glances at you, “I know Becca had a lot of fun, she can’t wait to pick up her plate.” 

Surprisingly, your first shift has, so far, been pretty uneventful. 

Robby has been smart and stayed out of your way, only really stepping in with the student doctors when needed. 

McKay had the students and both Whitaker and Santos had their patients, so you took advantage of the momentary lull to catch up on your charts. 

Sat at one of the computers at the Central Hub, your lips move as you mouth whatever it is you’re charting, Robby watches as you type. This was the most at ease he’s seen you all day. 

He knew that he was the cause for that. 

During the time you’d been on nights, he really had noticed how much of a loss it was, losing both you and Langdon in one fell swoop. He and Collins had been run ragged with covering both their own patient load and yours and Langdon’s, so much so that when Collins had put in her resignation notice and Gloria had informed him you’d be switching back, he didn’t even argue. There was no pushback, just exhausted resignation. 

“Hon, your phone.” Hearing Dana speak up pulls Robby from his momentary spacing out. He glances over at the same time as you. It wasn’t vibrating, no ringtone, just your screen lit up with an incoming call. He knows he should look away, whoever is calling you is none of his business but as much as he talks big game about boundaries, he can’t help it as he subtly leans closer, eyes squinting and suddenly, he wishes he hadn’t.

The name lighting up your screen was ‘Frank Langdon…’ and just as clearly as he could see his name, he could also see the profile picture. Nothing compromising but it might as well have been something not safe for work. Frank dressed casually, latte in hand, sat at an outside patio table. Before Robby could even begin to try and figure out what that meant, what your real relationship with Frank was, you grab your phone and excuse yourself, answering as you log out, the tonal change of your voice clear, trailing behind you as you walk towards the sliding doors of the ambulance bay. “Hey…nice of you to call. What’s going on?” Soft and fond.

Robby keeps his eyes trained on the sliding doors, even if you’ve already disappeared outside, before he can think to stop himself, he asks Dana. “What do you know about her and Langdon?”

The question catches Dana completely off guard. She whips her glasses off and gives him a skeptical glare, he keeps his gaze steady as he looks away from the doors and down to the tablet in his hands, acting like he’d simply asked about the weather. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” He shrugs. “They’ve always been close. I just wonder if she waited until Abby was out of the picture.”

“You’re walking a very thin line, Robby.” She warns him, “He loved Abby and she isn’t as tactless as you seem to think she is.” 

Robby simply shrugs, he doesn’t think you’re tactless, quite the opposite actually but he makes no effort to correct Dana. 

Despite being at odds, he still cares for you. You’re one of his best residents and he wants nothing more than to see you thrive. He’s just worried that whatever it is you have going on with Frank might cause you more harm than good. That feeling amplifies when you come back in, your face looks like it’s confused on which expression to externalize. Disappointment, shock, or heartbreak. He sees the way all three seem to flash across your face before you school your expression. 

You return to where you’d been sitting right before the phone call, swiping your badge and continuing to chart. Your entire body was tense, your typing rigid and a little aggressive as your fingertips push into the keys a little harder than necessary. 

He knew he really has no business worrying about you, he had spent almost a year trying to get rid of you and push you away but Robby always feels this moral obligation to make sure that those under his care, either as a physician or boss, know that they have somebody in their corner. 

So, with a heavy sigh, he pushes off the counter and as subtly as he possibly can, he leans against the one closest to you, still looking at the charts in his hands.

Hearing him clear his throat softly makes you pause, your hands hover over the keyboard before you resume your typing. “You okay?” He keeps his voice low, measured. 

“What do you care?” You bite back with a scoff. 

Okay. He should’ve seen that one coming. “Look, I know we’re in the boat we’re in, no paddles, no way out but I-” He chooses his next words carefully. “Look, you are still my resident and if there’s something going on that could possibly affect your performance, I’d like to know about it.” 

“Robby, you don’t need to pretend like we’re friends, it’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” Your words, dismissive and sharp, actually stung, deep in his chest. 

How did he let it get this far?

He decides to leave it at that.

At least, he should’ve because whatever it was, you could in fact, not handle it. 

It was affecting your work. 

You had been capable, as always, but you were a little too sharp. Not giving patients your usual caliber of bedside manner, you had snapped at Ogilvie a few times and as much as Robby hates to admit that it had been a valid reaction, that’s not the way the PTMC handles teaching. So as much as he wanted to clean his hands of whatever mess this was, he couldn’t. 

“You have a sec?” He pauses outside a patient room and realizes you’re ignoring him, continuing to supervise Ogilvie and Joy. 

“I’m busy.” 

His lips pull into a mirthless smile as he shakes his  head, disbelief clear on his face. He quickly glances around before he finds what he’s looking for. “Dr. Mohan!” He calls out, she turns on her heel and makes her way over, “Take over supervision of our students here, please. We need to have a little chat.” Her eyes dart between you and Robby, the tension extremely palpable and uncomfortable, so much so that she’s a little surprised that you aren’t squirming where you stand. 

“Uhm yeah, of course.” She reluctantly agrees, her hand held out to take the tablet from you. 

You made no effort to conceal your glare as you finally meet Robby’s gaze as he smiles almost cockily, “See, not busy.” 

You blindly hand the tablet to Samira before following Robby to the stairwell, the hectic cacophony of the ED fading completely as the door shuts, being replaced with sudden, empty silence. 

You defiantly meet his gaze as he looks you over like he’s looking for something, the silence stretching on as you refuse to speak first. 

Robby runs a hand down his weathered face, scratching at his beard before he crosses his arms. “You don’t want to tell me what your issue is? Fine. But while you’re in my emergency department, you are to leave all your personal crap at the door, like everyone else because now? Now it’s affecting the way you’re speaking to your patients and the way you’re treating out interns-” 

An incredulous laugh echoes through the stairwell, sudden and humorless, almost as if you hadn’t been expecting it to escape you. “Leave it at the door? That’s rich, coming from you.” Your posture mirrors his as you, too, cross your arms, hands gripping at your biceps. “Ever take your own advice, Doc? Or is this more of a, ‘do as I say, not as I do,’ kind of thing because I feel like you have absolutely no right to say that shit to me!” 

For once, he swallows his pride and takes a deep breath, attempting to carefully choose his next words. “One of the things I’ve always respected about you was how you could separate your outside life from whatever we deal with in here. You always had your priorities straight, but now? Now, I think you need to reevaluate because whatever it is, it’s got you completely rattled and yes. Yes, I fucked this up.” He gestures between the both of you, “But I wish you’d just talk to me. Because this isn’t you. At all.” Dread starts to pool in his stomach as he watches indignation flash across your entire body.

“Oh, please! You don’t know me, Dr. Robinovitch. If you did, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now!” You snap back, in complete awe that he had the nerve, the gall, to assume that he even knew a fraction of who you were. “I’ll do better at compartmentalizing, okay? Is that good enough for you?” 

He opens his mouth but isn’t given an opportunity to speak as you push past him. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care if it is or isn’t.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been as grateful, as you were now, to hear Shen and Ellis arguing. It was all in jest, of course, and that was why your muscles were beginning to untense. The familiarity like a salve to your soul. 

Your last nerve was hanging on by a thread as you got through hand offs, ignoring the pointed and concerned looks you were getting, not only from Shen and Ellis, but from Jack too. 

You thought you were home free. 

Managing to clock out and grab your belongings from your locker and sneak out through an emergency exit, your eyes trained on your car, you were so close, until someone calls out to you and any relief you were feeling starts to ebb away. 

You so wanted to be upset at the interruption but you couldn’t find it in you. 

“Hey, sorry, Jesse said he saw you heading out this way.” Mel’s smile was faint as she tried to catch your gaze. “I wanted to see if you were okay, with it being your first shift back and all…” 

Your eyes stay trained on your shoes as you roll a piece of gravel underneath the toe of your sole. “Thanks Mel, I appreciate that.” 

“So, are you?” The silence following her question is a little awkward as she clarifies, “Okay…I mean?” 

Sometimes you find it hard to believe that she actually cares about you. That she and Becca have become so intertwined in your life. That she cares enough to notice when you’re being a little strange. 

“I uhm, I’m not sure, Mel…” You sigh, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I got a call from Frank earlier.” 

“Dr. Langdon? How is he?” 

You nod vacantly, “He’s good but he uhm- he told me that Abby- do you know Abby?” She hummed in confirmation so you continue, “Well he said that she reached out to him…she wants to talk about reconciling.”

“Oh!” She sounds almost cheery at the notion, a side effect of her sunny disposition, no doubt. “Well…that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Her words unexpectedly hit you square in the chest, your guilt rearing its ugly head, tears stinging your eyes as you feel the phantom weight of his arms around you. The warmth of his hands when he’d hold you through the night, the gentle feeling of his fingers brushing against your cheek, the way his lips would brush against the sensitive skin of your neck as he’d whisper a sleepy, ‘Good morning.’ 

The thought of never experiencing that again, of losing him before you ever really had a chance, was making it hard to breathe. 

Mel’s face falling, expression softening when you finally meet her eyes, a steady stream of tears already dripping down your cheeks. “It should be…” 

She feels her own chest tighten as she sees you start to brack, one hand gripping your scrubs as if you were trying to claw your heart from your chest, the heel of your other palm digging into your eye, like you could bully your tears away.

As gently as possible, she takes your wrist in her hold and guides it away from your eye, not wanting you to hurt yourself but she winces anyway at seeing how bloodshot your eye has already become. Your breathing stutters as her hand slides down from your wrist to your hand, her thumb applying a gentle pressure to your palm. 

“I’m sorry.” 

That’s all she could think of to say, not knowing that it meant the world to you.

taglist: @lunadi1una @li22ie2017

[luvr-bunnyy]

Ch. 2 Five Months and Forty-Six Minutes

FRANK LANGDON X FEM!RESIDENT!READER

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word count: 3.9k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: some season one spoilers! mentions of the pitt fest shooting, mentions of an overdose, death due to overdose, uhhhh reader throws up it’s not super detailed or anything. no use of y/n. medical inaccuracies and inaccuracies of rehab/rehabilitation process. my shitty writing :P

[a/n: ughhhh i feel like this chapter just feels like i’m going, “and then….and then….and then“ literally just shoot me now. i've read this so many times that i honestly can't tell if it's any good. i listened to a lot of laufey and sufjan stevens while writing this one so, whatever that means…anyways! enjoy!]

The first month without Frank was…it was okay. 

There was a constant empty feeling that seemed to follow you around. 

At first you had thought that everyone felt that way, Mel had seemingly been a little down now that he was gone, you knew how well they had gotten along and had decided to lend her some support. Helping her out with cases and making sure that she had someone to talk to even after the others had dispersed.

It wasn’t until Dana had pulled you aside one day, asking how you’d been doing. Confused at first, you shrugged and said you were fine but when she gave you a look and said you’d been lugging around a little storm cloud with you everywhere you went, you had the rude awakening that the empty feeling you’d been harboring was yours and yours alone. 

It was nauseating to realize that you had been actively trying to ignore that hole in your chest. 

Actively attempting to forget that Frank had simply gone. Turned his back and walked away from you. 

Sure, he returned to aid in the mass casualty situation that had resulted from a shooting at Pitt Fest, but you had been pulled thin. One trauma to the next, blood up to your elbows, eyes hollow and sharp as you aided Dr. Abott in the Red Zone. You had heard his voice a few times, especially when the patient he had been treating reached for the gun strapped to his ankle and you had dropped to cover the patient in the gurney in front of you. 

Once the incoming patients had thinned out and been placed into rooms or sent up to the OR’s, you had noticed both him and Robby disappearing through the ambulance bay doors and when Robby came back in, you thought maybe you could slip out and catch Frank. For what? You weren’t sure, but when you slipped outside into the cool evening, he was no longer there and your heart ached. 

The second month was actually significantly worse. 

Robby was on one. 

He had a shorter temper and just seemed straight up disgruntled. You assumed it had to do with Frank, having heard from Dana that he had spared him and put him on administrative suspension so he could get help by enrolling in an inpatient rehabilitation center nearby.

His grumpiness, for lack of a better word, made sense. Frank had been his prodigy. His friend, though he’d never admit it. Of course he’d feel betrayed and hurt by all of this and you wanted to cut him some slack, forgive his minute transgressions but they soon became too aggressive and too apparent to shrug off. 

It seemed as though he thought that you had known of Frank’s addiction, of his theft. Assuming that you had known and didn’t say a word. 

And you know what they say about assumptions, right? 

The both of you were constantly at each other’s throats. It had mainly been defensive on your part, confused as to why your Chief Attending, your boss, was being so intolerant and aggressive. 

It had gotten so bad that you had gone over his head and asked Gloria for a temporary shift change. You had given some half assed reason that she believed and had led to her approving the change but you weren’t going to give Robby the satisfaction of watching you run away, licking your wounds. So on your last day shift, you had given him a piece of your mind. 

The shouting got so bad that Dana had stepped out to the ambulance bay where the two of you had been and broke it up and as you turned to walk inside, Robby called after you, needing to have the last word, saying that you had only been upset with him because he had gotten rid of the only person willing to get inside your pants. This had earned him a big, “Fuck you!”, from you. 

Mel watched in worry from the Central Hub as you went into the locker room, seething, tears in your eyes. You had slammed your locker door so loudly that it had caused a momentary and rare silence in the ED before you had emerged again, tears now apparent on your cheeks. 

Not wanting to let you leave so upset, she rushed after you, breathing heavily as she caught you in the car park, shoving your backpack into the trunk. 

“Hey! Is- uhm is everything all right?” Then she winced. “Sorry, that was a stupid question, obviously everything’s not all right but I uhm, I just wanted to check on you.” She had been fidgeting with her hands, genuine in her worry but unsure of how to approach you. 

It warmed your heart a bit, her mere presence giving you a sense of calm you had not felt these past two months, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fill your eyes. “It’s okay, it’s not a stupid question, Mel. I’m uh, I’m not okay.” Your voice fractures, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Pretty far from okay, I just- I can’t work with Robby anymore. At least, not right now. Gloria approved my switch to night shift so that’s where I’ll be for the time being.” 

“Oh…” Her brows scrunched as she processed your words. “I’m sorry to hear that, I’ll uh- I’ll definitely miss having you around.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” You sniffled, smile weak but grateful. “You have my number, you can text me anytime. Whether you need something or just want to talk.” You shrugged. “I’m here.” 

She seemed appreciative at the notion, letting you know that she’d gladly take you up on that. 

Now, here you were. Three months into the night shift. 

Frank had now been gone for five months total. 

Night shift was a completely different beast. 

It had been overwhelming at first. Your workload was about the same but the cases seemed a lot more brutal and unhinged. 

Lots of drunk and inebriated patients, lots of injuries due to stupid ideas, a lot of tired parents and their children, patients involved in bar fights and other altercations, and the late hour of the night usually meant that their disposition was usually waspish and touchy. 

The staff, however, seemed more your speed. There were no egos to trip over. No stepping on eggshells like you had been with Robby. Residents, Attendings, and Nurses alike had this sense of calm, looseness and ease. Nobody was high strung. 

Dana had been the person to fill Jack in on the animosity between you and Robby and he immediately went to Robby and told him that he’d been in the wrong for lashing out at you. He made his bed when he decided to cut Langdon some slack and get him suspended instead of fired. It wasn't fair that he had been taking it out on you. 

Robby hadn’t taken that too well but he was a lot more willing to listen since it was coming from Jack. He’d already gotten an earful from Dana and Mel had definitely given the stink eye once when she probably thought he wasn’t looking. 

He had a momentary sense of guilt but it was overridden by his pride and need to be right. 

Jack had actually really liked you. So did Shen and Ellis. 

You fit right into the chaos. 

It had taken you time to adjust to the new schedule, you had switched over to coffee to help you stay awake, seeing as you could no longer tolerate the taste of your favorite energy drink. Even the sight of it had given you memories of Frank. The smile he’d give you when handing you the cold can, fingers brushing, the giddy feeling that warmed your chest. 

As you leaned against the Central Hub, forearms on the counter, staring at the sliding doors, you could see the ghost of the past. 

“Come on! Incoming STEMI. Maybe we can beat the record this time.” Frank grinned, jogging backwards towards the ambulance bay doors as you followed. 

You simply scoffed a laugh as you shook your head, snapping your gloves on. “We won’t beat it if you trip and crack your skull open.” 

“My spidey senses would never allow that.” 

“You do that a lot.” 

The sudden voice beside you made you jump, head snapping to look at Shen as he stood there, iced coffee in hand, taking a sip as he studied your face. 

“What?” You’re a little breathless, the sudden rush of adrenaline from the scare making your heart work overtime. 

“You do that a lot.” He shrugs, “You kinda just stare into nothing, like you’re seeing something that isn’t there.” 

You sighed, “Just tired, I guess.” 

He didn’t seem convinced but he dropped it, placing the iced coffee in his other hand onto the counter. “If you say so.” 

The cold cup nudges your finger. “Oh…thank you.” 

He doesn’t say anything else as the others gather around for hand offs, everyone chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Jack and Robby. 

Dana sidles up next to you, nudging your shoulder with hers, “How’re you doing, kiddo?” 

“Huh? Oh- uhm, I’m good.” You shrug, taking the iced coffee Shen had given you, sticking the straw into the lid before turning around, the counter digging into your back. “Schedule’s still difficult to get used to but uh- yeah, you know? It’s good. Jack’s a great attending.” You took a sip of the coffee, eyes widening at how good it was, briefly making eye contact with Shen and giving him an approving nod.

“You know that isn’t what I meant.” At her words, your eyes drop shut and you take a deep breath. You know that she’s pushing because she cares, not to be harsh or nosy but it was still difficult to talk about it. You trust that whatever you say stays between the both of you but pain is a funny thing and sometimes it makes you paranoid and irrational.

Fortunately, and unfortunately if you were being honest, Robby approached the group with Jack just behind him. 

There was a small pinch of satisfaction that ran through you when Robby couldn’t hold your gaze, his eyes darting around desperately to look anywhere else but you. 

Jack and Dana had also seen it, and frankly, so had the others.

You were only partially paying attention as Collins and Robby presented their cases, completely missing the few judgemental glances he tossed your way as you sipped your coffee, seeming completely unbothered. 

“So…she seems to be fitting in.” Robby’s attempt at a casual comment somewhat amused Jack as everyone had dispersed. Day shift heading to the locker room and night shift heading to the Central Hub to grab charts and sign up for patients. 

“She is. Her, Shen, and Ellis are growing to be thick as thieves. I even overheard them trying to get her to switch over permanently.”

“She’s more than welcome to, for all I care.” Jack was stunned to hear such hostility from him. 

“A little harsh, brother. Don’t you think?” 

Robby had simply scoffed, removing his glasses and running a hand down his face. “Maybe- I don’t know.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Shifts have been a little hectic, that’s all.” 

“And…what? S’that suddenly all her fault? Remember, you also had a hand to play in her leaving.” Jack, admittedly, had begun to feel protective of you. It hadn’t been fair that you had been caught up in Robby’s dysfunction, especially to the point of having to “run away” and join the night shift. “Look, you’re allowed to feel frustrated and betrayed. Hell, one of your Senior Residents was lying to you. But you know that she had nothing to do with that. Nothing.” Jack shrugged, patting Robby on the back. “You’ll have to face the music someday…and maybe sooner is better than later.”

He then left Robby by the stairwell.

As you watch the day shift leave one by one, you desperately look around for that familiar head of bleached blonde hair you know and love, your heart starting to beat against your ribcage as you see her head towards the ambulance bay. “Dana!” You pick up your pace, “Dana- wait up!” She pauses, sparing a glance over her shoulder before turning around fully to give you a moment to catch up and once you’d been close enough, she resumes her trek out the double doors. 

You both stop just around the corner, out of sight of the double doors for privacy. She studies you for a moment, watching as you start to wring your hands together, your eyes darting this way and that, your shoulders tense and raised almost up to your ears. “What d’you need, kid?” She softened her tone in an attempt to put you at ease. 

“Uhm…I’m only asking because I know Robby would rather die than give me any information but if this goes against some kind of policy or- I don’t know. I don’t really know how any of this works but I-” Her eyes widened in surprise as your voice starts to crack, tears filling your waterline. “I’m so worried, D…about-about Frank. Have you heard anything? I know um I know you probably can’t tell me what facility he’s at but please…if you’ve heard anything, just-” You inhaled sharply as a few tears spill down your cheeks. “Please…”

Her heart broke for you, her own eyes filling with tears as she slowly pulls you into her arms. Warm but firm as she comforts you, one hand cradling the back of your head, “Oh, hon…I’m sorry.” She can feel your tears wetting the skin of her neck. “I don’t know where they put him. The physician's assistance program usually takes charge of all that.” She pulls away, hand still on your head as she now smooths some hair away from your face. “But I’ll try, okay? If I can get my hands on any information, I’ll let you know, okay?” 

If Jack had noticed your red rimmed eyes when you had stepped back into the ED, he said nothing, simply handing you one of the tablets and informing you of your first patient of the night.

After your chat with Dana, the shift had dragged forward. You had been…unfocused. Still on your game, just not fully present.

That was, of course, until your world got rocked.

3am.

The ED had been informed of an incoming unresponsive. 

Jack had called you over just as EMS burst in.

“Twenty-nine year old male, found unresponsive in his apartment by his sister. Suspected benzo OD, unknown downtime. No bottle or pills on scene but the sister mentioned that he’d been prescribed Xanax for an anxiety disorder. Initial GCS eight. Sats eighty-nine on room air, placed on fifteen liters non rebreather, sats improved to ninety-”  

You could no longer hear the EMT clearly, your heart was beating so loud, it was pulsing in your ears, chest tight as you struggled to breathe, watching as Jack motioned for you to join him on one side of the board to transfer the patient. His mouth had been moving but you couldn’t hear a thing. All sound had been sucked out of the room. 

All you could see was him as Jack checked pupils and respiration. His stunning blue eyes sluggish and barely responsive, soft brown hair messy from all the scuffle during transport, beaded bracelet nauseatingly colorful against his pale skin, hand limp against the gurney.

A piercing sharp ring echoed in your ears before all sound came rushing back at once. Overwhelming and chaotic.

“-he’s protecting his airway. What are your lab orders, Doc?” Jack looked over just in time to catch the way you had flinched, your eyes wide with fear.

“Uh- what?”

“Labs.” He speaks a little firmer, attempting to ground you in reality.

In the end, it made no difference. You spent forty-six minutes coding him. Fighting tooth and nail to keep him alive but it simply wasn’t enough. 

You weren’t enough and no amount of compressions or Epi could change that. 

Tears burned the back of your eyes as your breathing turns shallow, chest tight and aching, desperate to catch a proper breath as a steady and monotonous beep fills the room, the sound echoing in your head.

“Time of death…” Jack looks down at his watch, “3:46 am.” 

You feel it as he reaches over to shut off the monitor, the faint beep still a ghost in your ears as your face drains of all color, mouth filling with saliva. “Ex-“ You take a deep breath, “Excuse me-“ 

Lena watches from the Central Hub as you run to the single bathroom, door slamming shut. 

Your knees ache as they slam onto the cold, unforgiving tile of the bathroom, forearms braced on porcelain as you empty your stomach with a groaned sob. Dry heaving a few times before you push yourself off the toilet and against the wall, face in your hands as you attempt to quiet your sobs. 

You knew. You knew it wasn’t him but still. 

“Hon? Everything all right in there?” The suddenness of a knock and Lena’s voice muffled through the door was startling, the back of your head thumping against the wall as you sit up straighter, flinching before you clear your throat. 

“M’fine!” You call back weakly, the lingering burn in your throat making your voice scratch. “Just need a minute!”

You were unconvincing, at best, but she decided to show mercy and leave you be with a simple, “Okay…”

After splashing some cold water on your face and rinsing your mouth, you left the safety of the bathroom and finished your shift without a hitch.

Within, what felt like, the blink of an eye, the sun had started to rise and the day shift had started to trickle in once again. 

Among the first to arrive was Dana. 

She and Lena had their usual debrief, making sure that Dana has all the information she needs to continue to captain the ship of chaos that was The Pitt. 

Of course, one of the first things she was made privy to was the benzo OD that hadn’t made it. 

Your patient. 

“Christ…” Dana’s heart sinks. “She okay?”

“Are any of us?” 

Lena’s answer, though cynically accurate, was unhelpful as Dana looks around, craning her neck in an attempt to find you within all the movement of the ED, finally catching sight of you and Ellis stepping out of the lounge, her hand pressed against the space between your shoulder blades, mumbling something to you before stepping away to do last checks on her patients. 

As much as she wants to pull you aside and check in, Dana simply waits until you make your way over to the Central Hub, letting yourself drop into a rolly chair, swiping your badge and opening up your patient charts. 

“Ready to go home?” At hearing her voice, you glance up at her and offer a tight smile, nodding once before turning back to the monitor, fingers doing their usual dance over the keyboard. 

“Uhm yeah, yeah. Just need to finish up my charting, Abott’s been on my case all night about putting them off and I really don’t wanna be here longer than necessary.” 

Now that was news to her. 

From the moment she’d met you, you’d never had a problem with staying late, wanting to insure you had all your ducks in a row, even helping other residents and doctors finish up here and there before going home. 

She knew the circumstances were different, it was still a little shocking to hear. 

Reaching into her jacket pocket, her hand closed around a post-it note, folded into a neat little rectangle. “Well, I think I’ve got somethin’ that’ll get you out of here quicker.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” You laughed lightly, “A magic little elf that’ll do all my charts for me?” 

“Mmm not quite.” She leaned over, dropping the note onto the desk, the bright purple a stark contrast against the beige tabletop. “More like a way to contact the little elf you’ve been missing so much.” She’s surprised your neck didn’t break from the way you whipped over to look at her, eyes wide with utter disbelief before you hastily picked up the post-it, fingers fumbling clumsily as you unfolded it. 

There, in her familiar scrawl, written in black ballpoint pen, New Beginnings Rehabilitation and Recovery Center (412) xxx-xxxx. 

You looked over at her again, disbelief clear in your face, heart beating at breakneck speed. “How did you-“ 

“I know a few people.” Dana shrugged nonchalantly. “Last I heard, his blackout period is over. He’s allowed to have visitors, phone calls, letters. That’s all I've got, though.” 

“Dana…” She just shook her head, a knowing look in her eyes, she already knows how much this means to you but she also knows she could get into some deep shit for giving you this information, so the less it’s spoken about, the better. 

Once hand offs had been completed, you had basically run out of the PTMC like you had the hounds of hell nipping at your heels. 

However, as you now sit at your kitchen table, paper and pen sitting in front of you, you’re at a loss. 

You had decided a letter would be best, not knowing if he’d take your call or if he’d even want to see you in person. He just sort of vanished. Turned his heel and left you behind. 

No goodbye. See you later. Nothing. 

You thought you had so many things you wanted to say to him but now, given the opportunity to spill your guts, your mind was completely empty. 

What could you even say? 

You stopped drinking Red Bull because just looking at the can reminded you of him? 

You still had his U-Penn sweatshirt in your dresser drawer? 

You had a patient that OD’d on benzos you couldn’t save? 

That you saw him underneath your hands as you did chest compressions?

That sometimes you’d wake up and reach for him? 

Your hand trembled as you took hold of the pen. Anything was better than silence. 

It had to be. 

Under the harsh lighting of the rec room, the envelope almost looked like an illusion. 

He almost hadn’t believed that it was for him, expecting some kind of cruel joke. Being shown a letter that wasn’t for him, a letter that was never coming. 

His trembling fingers gently felt the indent of your name written in black ink. 

So familiar in the way it had once felt on his lips, familiar in the way it made his chest warm and ache at the same time. 

His breathing began to shorten as he flipped the envelope over in his hands, eyesight blurring as he slid his fingers under the lip of the closure and gently tore it open. 

These five months he’s been gone had suddenly felt like an eternity, reading the familiar cadence of your voice as his tears dripped down onto the paper, over your words but they were immovable.

“These are my favorite pens for a reason, Frank.” You had playfully rolled your eyes as you plucked said pen from his hand. “They dry so quickly and they don’t smudge.” The mischievous glint in your eyes had given away the falsity of your innocent smile. “Look.” 

He let you take his hand in yours, gazing at the focus painting your features as you wrote something on his hand, right by the last knuckle of his thumb. It was simple but it made you beam. 

A smiley face that had its tongue sticking out. 

“See? No smudging!” 

He could still feel the phantom pressure of your thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. 

He had so much he wanted to say.

Where would he even start? 

taglist: @lunadi1una

[luvr-bunnyy]

Whoever First Said, “Time Heals All Wounds” Was an Idiot

FRANK LANGDON X FEM!RESIDENT!READER

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

Chapter One - Time Waits for No One in which your relationship with your senior resident becomes a whole lot more complicated...

Chapter Two - Five Months and Forty-Six Minutes in which time drags on in his absence and your already on a ledge

Chapter Three - The Hours We Borrow in which you knew it was too good to be true and despite your best efforts, you can no longer keep biting your tongue

[luvr-bunnyy]

Ch. 1 Time Waits for No One

FRANK LANGDON X FEM!RESIDENT!READER

series masterlist - next chapter

word count: 3.3k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: END OF SEASON 1 SPOILERS! but other than that none really! no use of y/n. mentions of addiction. angst ? uhhhh kinda proof read so pls forgive me if there’s any spelling errors, i’ve written frank and his wife to be separated here and no kids. no specified age for reader, though it’s implied that reader is younger than frank, and no physical descriptors. oh and most definitely medical inaccuracies, i'm trying my best but there's a reason why i am not a nurse or a doctor...so, yeah.

[a/n: uhhhhhhh okay so, first fic in quite some time…i don’t anticipate this to be a super long series, maybe three chapters at most, i also don’t really know where i’m going with this so bear with me here. i’ve been OBSESSED with the pitt and with frank langdon as of late and needed to get this out of my system. i’ve also fallen to peer pressure so @lenaxvalentine this is for you 💋 anyways ! i hope you enjoy !]

Time is a funny thing in The Pitt.

Seconds and minutes feel like they can stretch on for hours and hours. Case after case, trauma after trauma. The constant whiplash between the absolute satisfaction of successfully administering care to a patient and the gut wrenching loss of doing everything humanly possible but it being insufficient enough to save a life. 

Patients fill the rooms and beds linger along the hallway walls. Rats skitter around unseen and uncaught within all the chaos. You hadn’t seen any thus far and hope, very much, that that’s how it stays.

There wasn’t much to keep you grounded within all the chaos. Maybe just the expected constant flow of the unexpected…and well, him.

Dr. Frank Langdon. Senior Resident.

 When you started your residency, he was there. Taking you under his wing and challenging you, pushing you to always strive to be better. To think fast and precisely under pressure. Running from one case to the next, side by side and sure, you got along with the other senior residents, Shen and Collins, and of course your attending, Robby but there was just a different connection between yourself and Dr. Langdon. 

You found yourself anticipating his needs, almost reading his mind when it came to differentials and patient care. Meeting his banter head on and dishing it back to him. The both of you trading off days bringing each other Red Bulls to be able to survive the upcoming twelve hours of hell. If he’d ever missed you on his way in, he’d always find his in the lounge fridge with a little note taped to it. He’s the only person to go looking for you when you step out for a breather, to check in on you and see what’s going on. More often than not, it’s self doubt.

The catalyst that had launched you both head first into this frustratingly cliche and complicated relationship was after you had pulled your first double. You looked dead on your feet. Bags under your eyes, almost swaying on your feet as hand offs began. He could barely remember what patient had what ailment when everyone broke away and Robby had pulled you aside. Frank had tried not to be nosy but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but worry, his confusion had deepened as he watched the night shift disperse and grab their things from their lockers, giving you sympathetic looks and encouragement before finally leaving for the morning.

Robby had asked you to stay an extra hour or two until Samira made her way in. Something with her car having to be towed and waiting for public transit. You had seemingly been alright with the request, gratefully taking the coffee Dana had handed you before you jumped into a case. 

However, that’s when the morning took a turn. You had made a mistake that had led to your patient’s blood pressure to drop dangerously low, Robby had all but shoved you away as he instructed Langdon to take over, he had hesitated for half a second, seeing the way your gloved hands were trembling but he had a patient coding and needed to step in. 

Once the patient was stable and taken to the OR, Robby had tore into you. Making it very clear that a patient doesn’t have the privilege of caring whether or not you had a good night’s sleep. Emphasising that you were no longer a student doctor, well on your way to becoming a senior resident and could not afford to make such stupid mistakes and to your credit, you had taken it like a champ. Your fists clenched at your sides as everyone watches, Robby dealing the final blow as he tells you to just go home, that they’ll manage until Samira arrives. 

Frank’s heart felt like it would tear out of his chest, heart rate rising with adrenaline, the internal battle of stepping in to defend you and respecting Robby’s call as chief attending was waging within him. Instead, he had pathetically watched as you calmly removed your gloves and disposable white gown, then you’d just turned around and walked out of the trauma room and through the glass doors, he watched as you went towards the stairwell and not the lockers and that’s exactly where he found you, sat on the middle steps, staring into nothing, not having even noticed that someone had stepped in. 

Slowly, he made his way up, both regret and sympathy coursing through him as he took a seat beside you. The stairwell is eerily quiet compared to the absolute chaos of the ED. He thought that maybe it was better if he kept his mouth shut. He knows that’s what Abby had always preferred. 

So, he let the quiet wrap around the both of you but what he had thought was a comforting blanket was more like being slowly but surely suffocated. 

You had desperately wanted him to say something. To comfort you, to cuss out Robby on your behalf, to just…do something but you knew you had no right to ask. It wasn’t your place. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to. He wanted to pull you into his arms, let you bury your head into his neck as he comforted you. Tell you that Robby was wrong, that it wasn’t fair of him to ask you to stay, knowing that you needed to go home and sleep. His hands twitched against his knees. He wanted…no, needed to do something other than just sit there like some tongue-tied idiot but he had no right. It wasn’t his place. Sure, you were both residents but he was your senior. Both in profession and life. The gold band on his ring finger glinted up at him, taunting. He didn’t even know why he wore it anymore…maybe it was just easier than having to explain why his finger was suddenly bare. That his addiction was starting to poison not only his body but his life and those in it. 

Until he tilted his leg, pressing it lightly against your knee, the pressure barely there. He almost pulled away. Tempted to rush to his feet, bid you a farewell and ‘get home safe’ before running away with his tail tucked between his legs but that’s when he felt it. You pressed yourself closer to his side and almost naturally, you unraveled into him. Slowly but surely. His body turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as your head rested heavily against his shoulder, a shiver crawling up his spine as the cold tip of your nose grazed his neck, your breath stuttering as tears finally leaked steadily out of your eyes. He sighed to steady himself before pulling you closer, hand sneaking up to cradle your head. 

After that morning, the line was forever blurred. 

The only thing that was clear was that he cared for you and you, him. Neither of you had dared ask, “What are we?” It was just a can of worms that neither of you wanted to touch. 

He was a warm body to find comfort in after a rough shift. You were always one step ahead of what he needed. He always had your back, still pushing you to strive for greatness. You were great company for slow mornings off. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled this much. He knew almost everything about you and you thought the same. 

That was until you had the rug pulled from underneath you, brains scrambling on impact. 

“Hey, can I- can I ask you something?” You looked up over the computer monitor in front of you to see Trinity Santos, Intern. You hadn’t had much interaction with her this morning but she seemed headstrong, driven, talented, just a tad bit overzealous. You knew she had grated Frank’s nerves. Not that he had to say anything to you about it but having heard, in passing, the harshness of his tone as he spoke to her, the way his gaze had darkened whenever she was present had made it abundantly clear to you. 

She seemed nervous, hesitant as she looked around, as if checking to see if anybody was eavesdropping. “Sure.” You gave her a tight smile, “Is everything okay?” 

“Uhm not, exactly.” She fiddled with her hands. “I know I should technically go to my Senior Resident if I have an issue with something but he’s kind of…my issue? So I thought maybe I could talk to you about something before going to Dr. Robby.” 

The thought of her going to Robby about Frank had set off alarm bells in your head but you took a deep breath and composed yourself, “Yeah, of course. That makes sense.” You looked at her expectantly but was met with nothing so you prodded, “What’s up? 

“Well…you like, know him well, right? Dr. Langdon?”

“I do.” You nodded and she continued. 

“Do you think it’s possible that uhm-well, that he could be stealing meds?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked around again, clearly even more nervous now that she had said what was on her mind and you? Well, you were not fairing well. Mentally, you were scrubbing over every memory that was clear enough. Marred with moments that you cherished most but now, you were second guessing. Wondering about moments that you had paid no mind to now being highlighted by warnings. 

Had he been lying to you? Keeping you in the dark? 

You two were close. You trusted each other with your lives so, why? 

Why would he possibly think he needed to hide something like this from you?

Apparently, your facial expression was giving away to your panic because Trinity immediately backpedaled. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I- uhm, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-”

“No! No, it’s okay.” You cleared your throat, “Uh I was just caught off guard.” Attempting to soothe her worry, you smiled but it probably came off as more of a grimace. “What was it that made you think he was stealing?” 

“There’s been two cases that I’ve worked with him where benzos were involved and there were uhm, problems. There was a-a vial that I couldn’t get open and he said it was because I was just an intern and the other involved uhm Louie. His script for his librium was off. There were pills missing and he said he hadn’t taken any. Langdon said he probably traded them off for liquor.” Suddenly, your chest felt tight. Aching that he was hiding behind misguided comments and deflecting with sharp words. That he could say that about Louie and try to reduce Trinity to, ‘just an intern.’

“I’m sorry he said that to you. That was uncalled for and just straight up wrong.” She almost seems shocked by your words. “Uhm…once is a mistake. A messed up vial, improperly sealed is completely plausible but Louie missing pills? He may be a raging alcoholic but he’s a good man. He wouldn’t sell off his pills like that.” You ran a hand down your face, in complete disbelief that these words were to leave your mouth. “If you were thinking of bringing this up to Robby, it’s a completely valid concern and you are well within your right to do so, especially since you were on both those cases.” 

“Oh, so…so I should say something?” 

“I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t-” Your voice wavered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Whatever you decide to do has to, one hundred percent, come from you. I don’t want to influence your decision but, all I will say is that it’s a valid concern.” 

There was a small silence that fell over the both of you as she processed what you had said and before she could get another word in, Mel was calling you over to help with something. “Excuse me…” You logged out from the computer, charting long forgotten as you moved, your body desperate to escape this conversation. 

Frank had noticed that you had somewhat been avoiding him, which made him nervous, attempting to recall every interaction and conversation he had with you today to try and see if he had said or done anything to piss you off. To his knowledge, there was nothing that he could have done to earn the cold shoulder. 

So, he had taken the opportunity to extend an olive branch. Buying you another Red Bull, coconut berry, your absolute favorite. He placed it down beside you on the counter of the central hub, you had been gazing up at the patient board, almost in a daze. The sound of the can clunking against the surface made you jolt in surprise, being met with a breathy laugh from him. 

“Sorry, sorry. That was my bad. I just, I don’t know what I did but it must’ve been bad if it got you to ignore me for the last three hours of our shift. So, I’m sorry.” The sincerity of his apology had made your heart constrict, the air in your lungs diminishing as he leaned down in an attempt to catch your eye, boyish smile on his lips. 

“Frank…” The shakiness of your voice caught him off guard, completely. When you finally meet his gaze, your eyes are red rimmed, filling with tears.

“What-” 

“Dr. Langdon.” Robby’s voice cut through the tension, the finality of it making you jump. 

You desperately wanted to warn him. Word vomit everything that Trinity had told you and how she was planning to tell Robby. To warn him that his career might be over. A possessive, protective part of you wanted to conspire. Tell him that you’d distract Robby with something or other so he could run off to the lockers and get rid of anything that could sentence him to exile. 

Frank, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore the feeling of dread starting to loom over him. Your demeanor and the unfounded sternness in Robby’s voice had to mean that whatever was coming was most likely not great and even then, he felt that that was an understatement. He looked over at Robby before glancing at you once more, you were no longer meeting his gaze but you tentatively reached over and squeezed his hand before excusing yourself, your drink left abandoned at the counter. 

Even though every fiber of your being had wanted to eavesdrop, you really couldn’t bring yourself to do it, it wasn’t until you heard Robby yell. His voice booming an irritated, “WHAT?” almost like a warning and Princess had emerged wheeling a patient, tense and terrified. Your body moves way quicker than your brain. 

Robby was seething, ready to give you a piece of his mind the second you came into view but to his surprise, you pushed past him, rushing over to the double doors Frank had just stepped through. 

Your heart was racing. All the worst possibilities racing through your head, guilt radiating through you so strongly that you could feel it physically pressing against your ribcage, your heart tearing clean in half seeing Frank sat on one of the benches in the hallway, putting his things into his backpack. 

“Frank-” Your voice caught as your tears ran free. “I’m-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

At your distress, his instinct to comfort you had kicked in, getting him onto his feet and holding you close. That was, of course, until your words had fully registered in his head. “Wait.” He gripped your shoulders and moved you an arms length away. “What are you sorry for? How did you already-” 

Sometimes you joked that his cleverness was a curse. Cursing him with an insanely big head for all of eternity. 

He would always laugh, especially because you were so tickled by your own diss, but now there was no humor. It really was a curse because he finally put the pieces together, venom starting to drip from his tongue. “You knew?!” 

Your eyes widened at his tone, “H-Hold on…”

“You knew she was gonna snitch to Robby and you let her? Even worse, you didn't tell me…why didn’t you tell me?!” 

Honestly, you hadn’t thought this through.

Pretending not to know what happened was never even a possibility in your mind but you also didn’t think that you following him out would've led to a confrontation. 

“I don’t know! Okay? I just don’t…Frank, you’ve been lying to me-“

He scoffed, his hands flying off your shoulders, as if touching you had scorched his palms raw. “No, I never lied to you-“

It was your turn to scoff, disbelief and anger replacing your heartbreak. “No, you just kept this tiny little secret from me. That’s all.” You shrugged as if it was all so simple. “What difference does it make? I have never given you a reason to believe that you couldn’t trust me and had you been honest with me, I could have helped you, or- or, I don’t know! I just don’t understand why you hid it from me. I…I-”

“You, what? You care about me?” He laughed. “Bullshit! If you really cared about me, you would’ve told Santos to mind her business!”

The silence following his words were heavy, suffocating, sure but also allowing you just a moment of clarity. Taking a second to really look at him. His hair disheveled, no doubt from his unforgiving hands tugging at the strands. Sweat beading his forehead. And his eyes, the mesmerizing blue that you'd often get lost in were significantly darker with an emotion you recognized as fear. Desperation. Not anger. 

A strange sense of calm had rushed through you as you realized that you did, in fact, know him. Enough to know that he was holding back tears, that he kept the softness of his heart hidden behind humor, behind sharp words and brilliance. Despite this one lie, this one secret, you did know him.

“No. Maybe you just can’t see it now but I never could’ve knowingly let you continue to harm yourself and your career and that’s because I care. And I’m sorry, Frank. I- God, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner. That you thought you had to do all of this alone.” 

He could feel the tears he was fighting burn his eyes, his throat tightening. That little voice in his head was working overtime, attempting to convince him that you were lying to him. How could you be more upset that he had kept this from you than him stealing medication from the hospital? If you cared about him you should’ve tried to shelter him from all of this but you let it happen. Kept him in the dark about his secret no longer being secret. But the little part of him that he often kept hidden away, the part that only you had the privilege of witnessing over shared cups of coffee in the late morning sunlight, in the late nights where he felt like the world was falling apart around him and you had stayed, running soothing fingers through his hair, it was telling him that you weren’t lying. That if he looked closer, he’d see that you were barely holding yourself together. That your heart was aching for him, that you were feeling guilty about not having seen his pain sooner.

This was all slowly becoming extremely overwhelming for him. He felt like his head and chest were about to simultaneously implode. So, he did what he knew he shouldn’t do. He did what he knew would break your heart, if he hadn’t already shattered it. 

You watched in complete disbelief as he ran a hand down his face and reached for his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and walking away. 

He ignored your broken calls of his name as they echoed in the empty hallway. 

Time is a funny thing in The Pitt. 

What had felt like the worst hours of your life, were a few measly minutes to everyone else. 

series masterlist - next chapter

[luvr-bunnyy]

Let me take care of you

Frank Castle x fem!reader

[a/n: I hate being on my period, fucking hate it….i’ve literally been in bed all day because i can barely stand. here’s some period comfort.]

fluff with a smidge of smut so this is 18+ mdni

Just as the soft morning light grazes the skin of your cheek, yours eyes flutter open. There’s a short lived peace that envelops you before your body catches up with you and a soft groan is leaving your throat.

Your hips are throbbing, thighs sore and achey. A crick in your lower back makes it painful to shift beneath the warmth of your duvet.

But then, you feel it. Your eyes snap open in panic.

There’s a slick feeling coating your underwear and it’s threatening to slip down past your thighs.

“Fuck…” You mutter, rushing to leave the warmth of your little sanctuary. “Fuck…fuck…fuck-“

You rush to the en suite bathroom but it’s too late. Gravity your enemy as you feel the blood pooling before it finally starts to trickle down your inner thighs. It’s extremely uncomfortable and irritating. Your face scrunching up as disbelief hits you.

You hated your period.

It was a monthly menace that made your life that much more miserable.

Stiffly, you turned the handle of the shower. The head sputtering to life before the sound of a steady stream of water echoed against the tiled walls.

As the water warmed, you hesitantly peeled of your sleep shorts and underwear. The fabric heavy with the absorbed bodily fluids.

Grimacing you dropped it into the sink, opening the tap to fill the basin with cold water. Shutting it off, you pulled off the hoodie you were wearing before stepping into the shower and under the warm water.

Your tense muscles relaxing under the pressure.

When Frank stepped into the apartment, he was confused by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.

He’d gone on a quick run and stopped by the coffee shop you both had become regulars at, wanting to surprise you with breakfast.

A regular black, drip coffee and breakfast sandwich for him. A sweet and creamy latte and blueberry bear claw for you.

It was 8am on a Sunday morning. The last thing he expected was for you to be up and showering already.

Placing the coffee tray and paper bag into the kitchen counter, he ventured into the room.

A small frown etched into his brow. You clearly got out of bed in a rush. Duvet thrown haphazardly, almost falling off the bed. Slippers still sitting at the edge of the carpet.

As he got closer to the bed, that’s when he noticed. The small blood stain on the sheets. Mentally checking the date, he realized that it was the last week of the month, usually when your cycle starts. That also meant that your cramps were gonna be hell.

He remembered you telling him that the first day was usually the hardest.

So, guessing that you’d be in the shower for a hot second, he got to work.

He changed the sheets and put the previous ones in the washing machine, prepping it so you could toss your pajamas in as well. He shuffled through your drawers to gather up some clothes for you.

Grabbing one of the many pairs of underwear you had dubbed as your “period panties,” a pair of soft, black sweatpants, fluffy socks, and one of his old marine crew necks. Worn out and a faded deep blue.

It was your absolute favorite. Now, it was more yours than it was his. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He tossed them into the dryer on a low setting to warm them up just a bit.

And just as you shut off the water, he took them out and folded them up, placing them on the bed just as the door creaked open.

You looked tired. Eyes heavy, shoulders hunched over as a cloud of steam followed you out of the bathroom.

“Frank?” Your voice was small, soft. Indicating just how weak you felt.

“Hey sweetheart, rough morning?” It wasn’t a teasing question. It was laced with concern, with tenderness and care.

The moment tears filled your eyes and a pathetic frown pulled your lips downward, he sighed and pulled you into his arms. The warmth seeping deep into your bones. You were still a little wet and wrapped in a towel but he didn’t care.

He smelled like his earthy, warm body wash mixed with the heady scent of sweat and sun.

It was comforting. Grounding you before you spiraled over something that was, in reality, a minor inconvenience.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ve got your clothes all nice and warm for you to slip into. I also grabbed some coffee and that pastry you like.”

There was a small silence that hung between you before you meekly asked, “The blueberry bear claw?”

He smiled softly, gently kissing the damp crown of your head. “That’s the one.”

“Okay…” You pulled away from him, reaching up to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “Thank you, Frankie.”

Rubbing your back, he gazed down at you lovingly. “Don’t mention it, anything for you baby doll.” He sent you off with a kiss on the nose and your warm clothes piled into your arms.

After having changed and settled into the corner of the couch, Frank tucked a blanket around you to keep you warm before taking a quick shower.

Once he was done, your coffee had been drank and bear claw inhaled. You were curled into yourself, trying everything to find a comfortable position to alleviate the pain and discomfort of your uterus attempting murder.

He cooed at the sight. “Oh baby…”

You let him maneuver behind you, pulling you to sit against his chest. The warmth seeping deep into your skin, the ache in your back slowly dissipating.

He wrapped his arms around you, big paws resting on your lower stomach. Gently adding pressure, massaging your cramps away.

He felt a bit of pride swell in his chest when you melted into him. If you could, you’d be purring.

“That feel good baby?” His deep rumbling voice sent a spark of something down your spine.

“So- mmm, so good Frankie.”

His teasing sweet nothings whispered against your skin and his warm hands feeling you up, it had you embarrassingly aroused.

He caught the moment that your breathing stuttered and you started to squirm in your seat. “Shhh, shhh, shh…just relax baby. Lemme make you feel good, okay?”

He kept one hand resting on your lower stomach, the other disappearing underneath your sweatpants and panties. “B-But Frank, the blood…”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He soothed you, placing hot, open mouth kisses under your ear and down your neck.

You whimpered when his fingertips met your poor, aching clit. The gentle pressure driving you crazy.

“Oh…Frankie-“

[maroon-cardigan-deactivated2025]

SAVE ROOM FOR US | a christmas mini series | s.h. x f!reader

summary: one year after his divorce, steve sets his mind to give his daughter nellie an unforgettable christmas, yet in the midst of his efforts, he finds himself orbiting around the pretty receptionist that works in his office, diving into a holiday season full of secret encounters and sensual indecency.

single dad!steve | STEVE’s POV | coworkers with benefits to lovers | no use of y/n | no mentions of specific race, hair type or body type.

warnings: this series and the content i write are +18, minors do NOT interact.

[dividers by @adornedwithlight]

PART I

PART II

I do no consent for people to plagiarise, translate, copy or repost any of my written work anywhere. I do not consent people to use any of my written work for AI purposes.

[luvr-bunnyy]

ho-ly crap…. i’m OBSESSED with this series !! it’s so beautifully written, it flows so well and just-ugh it’s absolutely amazing 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 i never want it to end

thank you for blessing my feed, lovely @maroon-cardigan 💌

[velvetures]

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

[luvr-bunnyy]

holy crap…this literally made me shed tears

i don’t have the words to describe what an amazing piece this is but thank you for writing it ❣️

[tojisun]

…yea sure why not?

-

baker!simon who’s known for the bit he’s got going on – something you wished your friends would’ve told you because the first time you walked into the niche bakery (at six am to boot) and saw simon, big and tall and inked and masked simon, you screamed bloody murder.

“jesus-!” he yelled back in surprise, almost dropping a tray of freshly baked shortbreads before whipping his head up to see what was going on only to feel like he’s been punched in the gut because there you stood by the entrance, bundled up with thick jackets like you’re preparing for winter even though fall was just settling in, your hair a haggard mess and your face gaunt from exhaustion, and looking like all parts of simon’s dream woman.

“um,” you stammered, staring at him with wide eyes and trembling hands, your heart hammering in your chest as you began to panic. “i, uh. i’m…?”

simon watched as you continued to stammer before finally taking pity on you. he placed the tray on the counter and turned to fully present himself to you, spreading his arms out in hopes that it would show you that he’s not dangerous. that you would see his flour-covered apron and see that all he’s got going on in life is baking, and then instantly be enamoured with him.

“you here for breakfast?” he asked, clearing his throat upon hearing the awkward croak of his voice. thank god for his mask because he was able to hide the flush of his cheeks, allowing him to continue to play it cool in front of you.

“yes?” you replied, still confused as to why the… baker? was wearing a homemade skull mask.

“sure,” he said and you watched as he wiped his hands on his apron. “come over here then. what’d you want to order?”

baker!simon who isn’t really a big sweets enthusiast but whose desserts are the best in the block. you asked him what made him pursue this career and you watched as he stilled, his face falling slack like he can see something you couldn’t – like he is reliving a memory – before shaking himself with a deep inhale and finally whispering, “for my brother.”

you did not probe any further, your heart heavy with guilt, but simon just turned to you with a small smile and asked, “wanna hear about ‘im?”

he gathered you in his arms as he recounted the few fond memories he has of his childhood, and you breathed him in, smelling the faint smell of macaroons and toasted butter on his skin.

baker!simon who begins dedicating his daily special treats to you. “for the apple of my eye,” when it’s apple fritters day. “for my beloved cheri,” on cherry pie day. “for my precious sugar,” on sugar cookies day.

baker!simon who proudly prances around in his frilly pink apron that has “husband material” embroidered on the chest. you gave it to him as a gag gift but simon loves it so much that he began to wear it to work, showing it off to his friends with a deep chuckle.

“my girl got it f’r me,” he says to johnny. “pretty, isn’t it?”

johnny nods amidst laughter, his body folded into himself as he clutches the counter for support.

-

fuck. baker!simon might even be better than biker!simon

[luvr-bunnyy]

sun !! as a baker myself, i’m OBSESSED 🤩 now i wanna bake with simon 😔

(him with nothing but his frilly apron on 👀🤤)

[luvr-bunnyy]

lattes and love at first sight

JAMIE TARTT x FEM!BAKER!READER

word count: 1.7k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: none! just some fluffy jaime

[a/n: i may continue this baker!reader in other fics!! but this is also the result of that random, spin the wheel thing i did...i may have written jaime out of character but i just love the thought of a usually confident man reduced to a flustered, nervous mess for the person he likes...anyways, enjoy!]

A heavy sigh ripped through your chest as you continued to knead at the dough in front of you. Your forearms were burning, a bead of sweat had rolled down your back, but you continued on, focused on your task as the sweet crooning of Marcus Mumford filled the bakery. You separated your dough into smaller parts, placing them on the tray beside you and once they filled it up, you carried the massive thing over to your proofer, sliding it into place and refilling the water tray. 

As you shut the door, a familiar tinkling caught your attention. It was followed by a familiar voice and one that was quite new to you. 

“Keeley, I don’t think the shop’s even open yet…why don’t we just-” 

“For the hundredth time Jaim’s, it’s open.” She scoffed before calling out, “(Y/n)! Babes, where’re you hiding!” 

A laugh bubbled from your chest as you finished setting your timer. “I’m back here Keeles! Be up in a sec!” Your eyes scoured the countertops before you found your tea towel and you snatched it up, wiping your hands as you stepped out into the front of the store. 

“There you are! Hi, babes! How are you?” She leaned over the counter and pulled you into a hug. Her sweet perfume invaded your senses in the best ways, the familiarity filling your chest with warmth. “I’m great, a little sweaty but great!” Understanding the implication of your statement, she scoffed and held you tighter before letting you go. “Oh stop it babe, you smell like cookies.” 

“Well, thank God for that.” You laughed before finally glancing over to the man that was staring intently at the scene in front of him. He seemed vaguely familiar but you couldn’t quite figure it out. “Oh uhm, h-hi. I’m (Y/n).” 

“Erm Jamie, nice to meet ya. Keeley never shuts up about this place so I thought I’d come with her. See what all the fuss is about.” 

“Great! I hope it lives up to the hype. Keeley, your usual?” 

“Yes! And can I get a dozen of your pastries please, love? Surprise me.” 

“Of course, and what about you Jaime?” He panicked once your eyes were on him again, realizing that since you stepped out of the kitchen, his gaze had never bothered to look anywhere else but you, much less to look at your menu board. 

Keeley’s eyes twinkled in amusement as she watched Jamie’s cheeks pinken, stuttering the slightest bit as he answered. “How about an iced coffee and a pastry you like? I uhm, I can’t decide.” 

“Okay, sure! I’ll get that ready for you guys.” 

Seemingly oblivious to what was happening, you slinked over behind the espresso machine, working on Keeley’s usual. When the fall season came around, her white chocolate and pumpkin spiced latte was a stark contrast to Roy’s americano. As you finished off her latte, one of your many timers beeped. 

“Oh shit…” You mumbled, totally having forgotten about what was in your oven. Jamie watched in slight amusement as you rushed over, muttering something or other to yourself as you lugged open the huge oven door, hands hidden by oven mitts as you pulled the tray out. The delicious smell of whatever it was filled the bakery and Jamie’s stomach grumbled. 

Carefully, you grabbed two of them with parchment squares and handed one to each of them. “Here you go, fresh out.” They eagerly took the warm bread and bit into it. 

Keeley’s was followed by a gasp. “These are new, aren’t they?” 

“Yup!” You slipped back behind the counter to make Jaime’s drink. “I came up with the recipe this weekend. This is my first batch. How are they?” 

“They’re fucking amazing, I could kiss you right now!” She took another bite before looking over at her friend. 

“Yeah, what she said…” He was so enthralled in the taste he hadn’t realized what he was echoing until it registered in his head. “Ah well no, I just meant- I don’t want to kiss you! I mean, it’s not that I don’t but- wait, no! I just-” 

“It’s okay, I understood what you meant.” Your soft laugh didn’t help Jaime’s nerves but he was glad he hadn’t said something wrong. “Here you go Keeles.” You slid a two cup drink tray over to her, her’s and Roy’s drink sitting neatly in it. “And here you go, Jaime. I hope you like it.” 

You watched hopefully as he took a sip of the drink. He nodded in approval, the right amount of sweet and bitter swirled across his tongue. “That’s real good, what is it?” 

“It’s a brown sugar and english toffee latte. It’s not on the menu but it’s what I make for myself.” He nodded in approval, watching as you grabbed a to-go box from underneath the counter and started to fill it with pastries. 

Keeley was overjoyed, secretly snapping a picture of Jamie watching you work with a lovesick expression on his face. She giddily sent it to Roy captioned, ‘I never believed in love at first sight until now.’ 

After that, you started to see more and more of Jamie. He had been stopping by before practice or even on weekends that he had free and whenever Keeley or anyone really, mentioned a hankering for a coffee or a sweet treat, he had volunteered to make a run out to grab some. 

You definitely weren’t complaining. 

The charming footballer had always brought a smile to your face, his anecdotes about his teammates or of his coaches had brightened up your days. There had been a few times where he’d come right at closing time and helped you clean up. 

He still hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask you on a proper date. Every time he thought he had hyped himself enough, he’d abandon ship and talk about something else. 

But of course, he had enough of beating around the bush. 

He came in with a determined look on his face and it had you very intrigued but you finished ringing up your customer and making their drinks. You bid them a ‘goodbye’ and a ‘come back soon’ before you started on Jaimes’s usual, sending him a smile. 

“Hi Jams, everything okay?” 

He watched as you basically made the drink by memory, sparing a few tiny glances down at your hands but keeping your full attention on him. It made his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah…I erm, well I wanted to ask you something. Have for a while now, actually.” He was fiddling with his fingers, eyes trained on the shiny charcoal colored counter below his drink. 

He was so distracted that he hadn’t noticed you walk around the counter and step beside him. The warm smell of brown sugar and peaches overwhelmed his senses. “Come on…” You gently gripped the crook of his elbow and led him over to a table. As you moved to sit across from him, he shivered at the feeling of your hand running down his forearm and to his own hand, fingers intertwining. “Okay, what did you want to tell me?” 

He took a second to relish in the feeling of your fingers between his, fitting like a puzzle piece he had been missing for far too long. 

Your chest tightened, his eyes finally meeting yours. They were filled with a reverence that nobody had ever spared you. “You can stop me and tell me to fuck off or…or that I’m a prick but-” Your face twisted into a confused frown as he continued. “I can’t stop thinking about ya’, your face, your smile, your laugh…it’s so bad that I can’t concentrate during training.” He scoffed a laugh. “Roy gave me a proper lashing for it but…I don’t even care. So, erm I guess what I wanted to say is that, I really, really want to take you out on a date. A proper one.” 

Your eyes widened, almost comically, when you realized how serious he was. Temptation to deny was ever present in your mind. How could he like you that much? So much so that your constant presence in his mind was a distraction from the thing he spent his entire livelihood achieving…but there was nothing in his eyes other than affection and hope, how could you say no? 

So, you fessed up.

“You know…I burnt an entire batch of my pumpkin cookies because I- Keeley sent me the unreleased photos from your GQ photoshoot…I was too busy drooling over your photos that-that I turned off my timer and forgot to take them out of the oven.” A nervous giggle bubbled in your chest. “They looked like charcoal.” 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wait, so that means…?” 

“I, very much, want to go on a date with you.” His eyes lit up. “Like, real bad Jaime.” 

“Oh fuck me…” He muttered at your desperation, “You’re serious.” 

“As a heart attack.” You squeezed his hand, an unbelievable amount of giddiness coursing through your whole body. 

“Kiss me.” His eyes widened, sending himself into a spluttering ramble. “No! I mean, yes k-kiss me…I mean, only if you want to. I want you to- could I…can I kiss you? Please?” 

You bit your lip in an attempt to conceal the shit eating grin that’s tugging at your lips. “Only because you asked so nicely.” He removed his hand from yours, cradling your jaw as if you were the most precious thing on the planet, and to him, you very much were.

He leaned across the table, the feeling of your hand holding his wrist was intoxicating. When his lips met yours, he was in heaven. Your lips moved in a languid pace against his, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. The hitch in your breath when his tongue messily met yours had boosted his confidence, sliding his hand back behind your neck to deepen the kiss. Heat had begun to pool in your belly so you placed your hand onto his chest and gently pulled away from him. 

Keeley and Rebecca watched from behind the glass door, jaws dropped at the Hallmark moment they had just witnessed, unbeknownst to either you or Jaime. 

You laughed breathily as Jaime chased after your lips, your hand creating resistance against his chest. “Easy Tartt…let’s save that for our date.” You couldn’t resist his wide, pleading eyes so you leaned in and chastely pressed your lips against his. 

The violent sound of the bell made the both of you jump, pulling away from each other. Keeley had shoved the door open, squealing. “Fucking FINALLY! I thought we’d have to knock some sense into the both of you!” 

[luvr-bunnyy]

fresh bread and the living dead

CARMEN BERZATTO x GN!READER

word count: 1.4k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: none really, mainly fluff. no use of (y/n), carm calls reader ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ and one mention of blood

[a/n: alrighty…so, i’ve had such a shit year so far and i’ve also had terrible writer’s block…so i decided a good way to get out of it was to pick random characters and put them into like one of those spin the wheel things online, so yeah…here we go! ALSO !! huge ginormous thank you to @scealaiscoite , they’re halloween prompt list was a huge inspiration for this one and helped me out of my writing funk :( thank you my love 🫶🏼 anyways, enjoy !!]

The beginning of October brought a crisp chill to Chicago. Gloomy skies, roaring wind, a chill that seeps into your bones in the most exciting way possible, and it also brought one other thing. Something that you had been extremely fond of. 

Halloween. 

The best holiday ever. And no, that is not just an opinion. It is an irrevocable fact. 

And so, on one of your rare days off from The Bear, you woke up at 7am. Carefully slinking out of bed to not wake your boyfriend- sorry, fiance. He had a tendency to not want to sleep in on his days off but because you just wanted him to rest, you unlocked his phone and shut off his alarm. Leaving him to rest with a kiss at his temple. 

With a yawn and stretch, you shuffled into the kitchen and started to pull ingredients from your cupboards. Flour, yeast, sugar, etc. There was only one way to start the fall season off the right way. Pumpkin Conchas. Marcus had mentioned them during prep one day and you just hadn’t been able to get them off your mind, you had immediately drafted up a recipe and the both of you had worked on perfecting it. 

So as you kneaded the dough, all you could focus on was the light and airy feeling of surprising Carm with the warm and delectable bread first thing in the morning. 

Your biceps and forearms ached the slightest bit as you placed a tea towel over the bowl that held your dough and with a satisfied sigh, you made your way back to the room to change. 

Quickly and carefully stepping into some jeans and a beige waffle knit thermal, topping off the simple outfit with boots and Carmy’s checkered wool jacket. The faint smell of his cologne made your cheeks redden, heart squeezing with adoration and love. 

And after a quick trip to Target, you returned with a few bags full of goodies and a dirty chai topped with a deliciously thick pumpkin cold foam. 

When Carmen woke up, the delicious smell of baked goods hit his nose. It had definitely offset the disappointment of figuring out that you had sabotaged his early morning alarm but he could never really be angry with you, especially not when he felt so relaxed and rested.

Sluggishly, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the kitchen where the sound of a pan moving against the stove top caught his attention. His shuffled footsteps caught your attention and a fond smile pulled at your lips. “Morning, bear.” He just hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders on instinct. “You’re just in time. I made you breakfast.” 

“Smells great, thanks baby.” He placed a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. “Busy mornin’?” He asked somewhat rhetorically, noticing the oven timer still going and the grocery bag with a very familiar red logo on the front. 

“Oh well, uh yeah…just-just a few essentials we needed.” You shrugged, leaving him standing by the stove with a guilty smile. 

“Oh man…” He laughed to himself, expecting to be met with something ridiculous. 

And boy was he right. The second he stepped into the open dining/living area, he was met with an interesting sight. 

There were soft orange colored string lights hanging from the top edges of the wall. The decorative pillows he was familiar with had been replaced by pillows with the fluffy shape of ghosts and jack-o-lanterns embroidered on the front, a plush plaid throw blanket with a printed pumpkin pattern was slung over the arm of the couch.

 The basket tray on the coffee table had a cheesy looking halloween candy bowl filled to the brim with his and your favorite sweet treats and a new set of coasters. A cute little ceramic ghost sat on the glass surface of said coffee table, alongside a lit candle that was something along the lines of caramel and pumpkin. 

He could never understand your obsession with the holiday but you looked so happy, he would never do anything to jeopardize your joy. So, he grinned and gave a simple, “Looks great in here,” before sitting and enjoying the omelette and sausage you prepared for him. 

As he took his first bite, you pressed play to resume the movie you had been watching and the sound of a blood curdling scream, followed by the image of gushing blood made Carmen jump. You, however, seemed unaffected as you continued to hang another set of lights around the window. 

“Sweetheart…” He called out to you, a worried frown etching onto your face. His wavering tone leading you to believe something was wrong. 

“Yeah? Is it the omellette? Is it not good? I asked Syd for advice since I’m shit at cooking anything with eggs. Dammit.” Your dejected tone tugged at his heart. 

“No, no, no. It’s not the omelette. Promise. It’s actually really good. You did-you did great. No, it’s just-” He took a deep breath. “I uh-I really appreciate that you’re getting into the uh, the halloween spirit or-or whatever but it’s ten in the morning baby. Could we turn off the slasher movie for a sec, please? At least until I’m done eating?” 

The silence that followed made him nervous that he upset you but he was relieved when a quiet laugh left your throat. “Oh! Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Relief flooded your chest. “I’m glad the omelette’s good.” You grabbed the remote and paused the movie once more. Carm watched as you left the app and went back to the homescreen. 

“Thank you, you can go back to it when I’m done eating. I’ll uh, I’ll help you with the rest of your-your decorating.” 

“Aww thanks bear.” 

His focus returned to his breakfast until the familiar notes of ‘This is Halloween’ met his ears and he sighed but the sound of you ecstatically singing along with the animated ghouls on the screen had any protest he had dying on the tip of his tongue. The promise that followed the ding of the oven was more than enough consolation for having to have seen this film for the thousandth time this month.