idk if you havn't done yet but can do yn/sturniolo and nathan doe and she is getting her widome teeth and he is taking care of her
You wake up in the recovery room with your face numb, your cheeks stuffed with gauze, and your boyfriend Nate sitting at your side, scrolling through his phone like he hasn’t moved since you went under.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he says as soon as your eyes flutter open. He tosses his phone into his pocket, leaning down so you can see his grin through the anesthesia haze. “How’re you feeling?”
You blink at him slowly, trying to remember how words work. “’M sleepy,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the gauze.
Nate laughs, brushing a bit of hair out of your face. “I know. You did so good. Ready to go home?”
By the time Nate helps you into the car, you’re half-awake and drooling on your blanket, but he just keeps saying how cute you are, turning up the music so you’ll stay conscious for the ride home.
When he pulls up to the house, the one you live in with your brothers, the one that always smells a little like laundry and whatever candle Nick insists on lighting, he carries your bag in one hand and keeps the other on your back, guiding you up the steps.
The front door flies open before you even get there.
“Oh my god, let me see!” Matt is practically vibrating with excitement. “Lemme see her while she’s high out of her mind.”
“Matt, stop, she just got home,” Chris snaps, moving him out of the way. He looks you over to see if you need anything. “You good? Do you need water? Nate, did they give you the meds?”
“Yeah, Chris, I got everything,” Nate says, holding up the pharmacy bag. He gives you a gentle nudge inside. “Go sit down, baby. I’ll get you your ice packs.”
Nick appears behind Chris, holding a giant bowl of green Jell-O. “I made this for you,” he says proudly. “Don’t eat too fast or you’ll choke. Actually,” He shoves the bowl at Nate. “You feed her. I don’t wanna be responsible.”
You let out a dopey giggle, which turns into a groan when your jaw twinges. Nate winces in sympathy, guiding you over to the couch in the living room, the one full of mismatched blankets and the dent in the cushion where you and your brothers always pile up to watch movies.
He settles you in your usual spot and tucks a fuzzy blanket under your chin. Chris hands him the ice packs like he’s your personal nurse. Matt climbs over the back of the couch and flops down next to you, poking your cheek lightly.
“I’ve never seen you so quiet before,” he teases. “I’m gonna take a picture.”
You try to swat him away, but you’re too slow. Nate catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Ignore him,” he murmurs, balancing the ice packs against your jaw. “You’re cute. Even when you’re drooling.”
Nick sets the TV remote next to you. “We can watch whatever you want. No arguments. Right, Chris?”
Chris sighs but nods. “Yeah. Even Mamma Mia, if that’s what she wants.”
You mumble something that might be “Love you guys,” but it comes out all garbled. Doesn’t matter, they all get it anyway.
Nate leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Rest up, chipmunk. We got you.”
And as you drift off, surrounded by your brothers bickering over which blanket is best and Nate’s hand stroking your hair, you think: there’s nowhere safer to be.
oh my god i’m sorry this is so cringy please ignore this.
