You’re dating robby and he has to work a double so he sends in reinforcements (Jack) to cuddle you
contains: just soft and sweet stuff ⊹ gender neutral reader
1.1k words
⊹ ⊹
You’re staying at Robby's place for the night, and if you’d known that he was going to get pulled into a double you would have just stayed home. But you wanted to surprise your boyfriend when he got off shift and had even planned to order from the Thai place as soon as he let you know he was on his way home.
I’m sorry, love, he texted instead, when you let him know that you’d come over. I can send Jack to check on you
You laughed because that’s ridiculous– you’re a goddamn adult, you have a key and everything, it’s not like you need to be checked on.
My hero, you texted back with a laughing face.
Usually you sleep well at Robby’s place. Even when he keeps the tv on, he’s got the settings cranked so everything is vaguely red to stave off the blue lights, and he sets the volume pretty low so you can curl against him and listen to his breathing along with the chatter from tbs reruns or some car race.
But apparently alone, it’s harder. Sometime after ten, you’re still awake even though you’ve been in the bed, lights off and phone on the nightstand since eight. You groan and get up to get some water and pace.
You’re in the kitchen, Robby’s oversized college tee hanging off your shoulder, when you hear the key in the lock. Must be Robby, you think, and you perk up when you look over through the living room as the door opens.
“Hey, Ro-” you start to say, but the words melt as it’s not your boyfriend who appears but Jack in a little bashful smile as if he gets that it’s strange, too.
“Hey yourself,” he answers, and steps in and turns the deadbolt behind him like it’s a habit. “Everything all good here?”
You nod. “Fine,” you huff out, and his eyebrows shoot up.
“Very convincing. What’s up?”
You don’t need to answer him, you could tell him to high tail it out of there, but you’re overly exhausted from your own day and it’s late enough that it feels okay to let down your guard a little. “Can’t sleep. I usually cuddle with Robby, but-” you shrug. “I realized I’ve never fallen asleep here myself, and I wouldn’t recommend it to a friend, so far.”
He nods with his lips pursed to one side like he’s thinking. “I can help, if you’d like.”
You laugh again, a short little burst. “You were sent here to– what, make sure that I wasn’t setting his condo on fire? I don’t think that he intended for you to, uh. Help. With my sleep.”
As you say the words though, you can’t help but imagine what help looks like. Curling up next to him, syncing your breaths with his as you drift off.
And Robby does give a shit about you getting enough sleep, even if he won’t prioritize the same for himself.
He holds up his hands in front of him. “No harm, but Robby wanted to make sure you were alright. And not sleeping really isn’t.”
You groan and rub your hands over your face. “So what are you suggesting?” You ask, wanting to make sure he’s actually offering what you think he is.
“You said you usually cuddle. I can handle that.”
As you make up your mind, his eyes dip from your face down to your bare legs and then back up. And then again.
“Okay,” you say, and pick up your phone to text Robby about it.
Jack actually came by? you send, and notice how late it is– Robby’ll be worried that you’re still up.
Oh good. Is he being helpful?
Jack makes his way towards the bedroom, and you hang back for a second to text him back. I think so
When you get to the bedroom, Jack’s sitting on your usual side, easing his leg off.
“Still good?” He asks and pauses, looking up at you.
You smile and nod, realizing that he practically dressed for this, mesh basketball shorts and an old Army tee, ready to slide into bed or hit the gym.
He pushes himself back towards the pillows. “Then come on in.” He pats the space next to him.
You slide under the covers together, and Jack wraps his arm around your shoulders to gently tug you closer.
“Am I keeping you up?” You ask as you snuggle in. He smells good– some cologne, earthy and not too strong, different from whatever Robby wears, but familiar, like he belongs in this house too. You settle your head against his chest, your hand against his ribs, and feel your whole body lose some of the tension that had kept you up before.
“No,” he answers, and his voice rumbles through your ear that’s pressed to his firm chest. “I’d be up anyway. Once you fall asleep I’ll do some reading on my phone, if the light won’t bother you.”
You shake your head. “I don’t mind. What are you reading?”
Jack starts telling you about his book– something science fiction, with space ships and aliens that he describes in a quieter and quieter voice as your eyelashes flutter closed, not able to look up at him anymore. His thumb on your shoulder gently rubs back and forth, and when you sling your leg over him, rolling a little more fully onto him in your half awake state, he has to suppress a groan.
“You even still listening?”
“Mm, totally, aliens… stealing… comets?” You ask, trying to thread together what he’d been saying. You had definitely just been listening to the timbre of his voice, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breaths. You feel a light pressure on the crown of your head and know that he just kissed you there, and the thought makes you sigh.
“I’ll let Robby know that you’re finally sleeping,” he whispers, and there’s a rustling and then even behind your closed eyelids you notice the shock of the flash from a phone. You’re comfortable enough to stay right where you are, slipping the last few inches away into asleep.
Out like a light, he sends to Robby, the photo attached.
You wake to the sound of the front door opening in the morning, Robby calling out your name, and when you reach out for Jack he’s gone. The bed’s even cold.
“Morning,” Robby says, and he’s still in his scrubs so he won’t touch you until he showers but he leans down to kiss you. “Sleep alright?”
You nod sleepily, stretching out on the bed. “We oughta invite Jack over some night,” you yawn.
“He’s easy to fall asleep on,” Robby agrees, and heads to the bathroom, pulling clothes off as he goes. “Even better when he tires you out first.”
Summary: Jack Abbot’s resident wakes up in his bed and it’s possibly not as devastating a development as she might’ve thought
WC: 1,958
Warnings: morning after/implied sex but it’s not described in anyway at all, literally it’s just mentioned a few times because they wake up together, inappropriate relationship between attending and resident
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Something felt wrong the second you woke up. It took you another second to figure out what. This wasn’t your bed. This wasn’t your bedroom. And there most definitely should not be an arm slung around your waist. And there also most definitely should not be a solid chest against your back. You woke up in your own bed in your own bedroom alone pretty much every morning. So what the fuck was going on here?
The arm belonged to a buff white man. That’s all you knew. A lot to go on, surely. You shifted slightly to reach for your phone and the man behind you woke up.
“What’s the time?”
Shit. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. You knew that voice. You’d never heard it so low and gruff from sleep before but it was undeniably…
“Dr. Abbot?” You asked cautiously.
“Yeah?” He replied.
“I uh I should probably go…” you began to sit up a bit more properly.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” But his grip on your waist loosened instead of tightening up anyway.
You half glanced back at him. “You… don’t want me to go?”
“I’m not kicking you out.” He elaborated.
“What, are you gonna cook me breakfast?” You joked.
“If you wanted, I could, yeah. What would you want?” It wasn’t a joke to him.
You turned to face him fully now. “You’re serious.”
He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“You’re my attending and I’m your resident.” You pointed out the obvious.
“You’re also a woman.” He reminded you.
Oh. Right. With needs and wants and desires, right? The need for food. The desire to stay in his arms forever. Wanting what you knew you couldn’t have.
“You’re in a position of authority over me.” You reminded him, again stating the obvious.
A half smile adorned his face. “Not last night, I wasn’t.”
“Jack, I’m serious…” the use of his first name wasn’t helping matters - you knew this, but it had felt so natural leaving your lips.
“Okay… we can let HR know, get ahead of this thing if you like. Or…” he trailed off.
You cocked an eyebrow. “Or?”
The smile on his face widened slightly. “We don’t tell anyone.”
“You think that’s wise?”
“I can be professional about this if you can.”
“It can’t affect our professional relationship.”
“I can compartmentalize.” He just had all the answers, didn’t he? “Trust me, no one at the hospital is gonna know about this.”
“Princess and Perlah can never know.”
“They’ll never know.” He agreed.
“You have to promise.” You insisted.
“I promise.”
“I mean it, Jack. You know how those two are.”
He nodded. “I know you mean it. And I do know how they are. Relax, alright? It’ll be fine.” He tried to assure you.
“No one can know.” You reiterated.
“No one’s gonna know if we don’t tell them. But I gotta know… do you regret last night, sweetheart?”
“What? No. I never meant to imply that I did.”
“You just wanna hide this.”
“You’re the one who suggested not going to HR.”
“Because that’s a headache neither of us needs. I just wanna make sure neither of us is hiding due to shame. This is just… practical, strategic.” Of course the ex-Army medic thinks of paperwork as a headache and is thinking of a strategy. It’s a wonder he wasn’t a tactician.
“So you don’t regret last night?” You asked him.
He physically recoiled at the notion that he ever could. “God, no.”
“You’re not… hiding me?”
“Our business is our business. It’s no one else’s. We can be professional, keep our personal feelings out of the workplace.”
“I just… I don’t know what this is.” You gesture between you two with your finger.
He shrugged. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”
“What if I don’t know what I want this to be?”
“I’ll be here.”
“Really?” You asked skeptically.
He met your gaze and held it. “Until you give me an answer, yeah, really. I’ll wait for you.”
“You’re serious.”
“Very. You’re worth the wait.”
“That’s… wow. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for wanting to stick around you. You should be cursing me actually.”
A soft chuckle made its way out of you. “Cursing you?”
“A surly ex-Army combat medic caught feelings for you.” He sheepishly admitted. For a man who seemed intent on making you uncomfortable at work with his frequent and often prolonged eye contact, he was sure having difficulties making it with you now.
“You’re not so bad.” You assured him shyly.
A small smile quirked at the edge of his mouth. “That’s awfully nice of you to say.”
You scooted slightly closer to him on the bed. “Do you think that of yourself?”
“You’re young. I’m… not so young anymore. What use am I to you?”
“You make me feel seen and appreciated everyday at work, last night you made me feel desired and you have the absolute audacity to ask me what use you are to me?”
He scoffed. “You say that like you don’t deserve the appreciation and admiration.”
“Do you see literally any other man stepping up the way you have in my life?”
“Well… I guess not. Believe me, I’d notice if there were.”
“Luckily for you, I’m not so much of a catch.” You joked… It was a self-deprecating joke and he didn’t care much for it.
“I made love to you last night and you have the audacity to tell me you’re not a catch?” He threw your words back at you.
“What’s anyone else gonna want with me, hmm?”
“What’s anyone else gonna want with me?” He threw that back at you too.
You sighed heavily. “God, we’re weirdly perfect for each other, aren't we?”
“Precisely why I’d make you breakfast and why I think I’d be devastated if you wanted to leave.”
“That breakfast still an offer?”
“Always.” Easy answer. Always would be.
“I like eggs.”
“I can make eggs. You can go grab some clothes of mine if you want. I’m gonna go… take care of my leg.”
“Those’ll fit?”
“Wait and see, I guess.”
You went over to his dresser to go through his clothes as he went into his bathroom. Surely none of them are gonna fit you. Are you gonna be one of those cute girls wearing a guy’s boxers and his clothes? His shirt perhaps? You got a pair of his boxers (they were huge) and put those on. He had a big ass old olive green t-shirt that you threw on over the shirt (bra be damned). And yeah, you looked cute as hell.
“I have a new spare toothbrush you can…use…” He said as he was coming out of the bathroom but trailed off, stopping upon seeing you in his t-shirt with obviously no bra on. “Comfortable?”
You nodded. “Mhm. And thanks, I'd like to brush my teeth before I go.”
“You can use my toothpaste.”
“...thanks…” This was entirely too domestic but you weren’t about to up and leave now.
He quickly busied himself away in his kitchen. But you were not far behind as you followed him and hoisted yourself up on the stool at his kitchen island. You had the most scrumptious view of his ass in these shorts he’d put on. They were older basketball shorts but god, did his ass look yummy in them.
You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to be blessed with the view of his behind while you sat in his house and he made you eggs and drank the coffee that he made you. He was also wearing a “Kiss The Chef” apron. You suddenly realized that it was past sunrise.
“Didn’t Robby mention something one time about you doing nude sunrise yoga?” You blurted out.
His hand holding the spatula stilled. “He what?”
“I uh um… is that… not true?”
“No. It’s not. I do push ups nude at sunrise.”
You almost choked on your coffee. “You what?”
He chuckled slightly. “You okay back there?”
“Fine.” You grabbed a napkin to dab at the wet spots on the table. “Jesus Christ.”
“You need the Heimlich?”
“I’m fine. Focus on your eggs.”
“I don’t do anything nude besides shower and have sex, by the way.”
“Robby lied? Shocking.”
Jack chuckled softly. “He was probably trying to deter you from interacting with me.”
“That was supposed to be a deterrent?”
He shook his head. “Guess it didn’t work.”
“Lucky us.”
He glanced back at you, eyes flitting to your chest in his shirt. “Very lucky. You want cheese or anything with your eggs?”
“Sure.”
“What kind?”
“You have more than one?”
He sighed. “Actually I think I just have cheddar.”
“So… cheddar…”
He plated the eggs, set them on the island in front of you, and went to his fridge. “Uh… guess I’m living up to the widower claims…”
“Meaning what?”
“I don’t have any cheese…”
“That’s okay.” You assured him.
He sighed again and shook his head. “No, it’s not… I need to get my shit together.”
“You’re doing fine.” You soothed him.
“Am I? This fridge is barely used,” he closed the fridge door, “my home barely lived in…”
“So change that.”
He tilted his head, fixing you with a queer look. “Just like that, huh?”
“Well I get that you’re a doctor. Duh. I’m a doctor too. But you can still make the most of what you’ve got. No one’s standing in your way except yourself. You wanna spend as much time as possible at home? Do that, if you want, if that bothers you so much.”
His mouth set in a straight line, he observed his surroundings. After a few moments' consideration, he dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “Nah, I’d probably get bored here.”
“No wonder.” You huffed.
He crossed his arms. “Excuse me?”
“You live like a Spartan, Abbot.”
He fixed his gaze upon his bare walls. “You can take the man out of the military…”
“It just needs some color.” In truth, it probably needed a bit more but that was a start at least.
“Other than black or blue or drab olive green, right?”
“And…” you looked over into his living room at his couch, “brown…”
“Yeah well I would get some red in here if it didn’t remind me so much of blood.”
“Maybe some yellow would be nice.” You remarked, looking around his home. “It’d bring some color and some happiness and some brightness. Like… even just some sunflowers, something simple like that. Or tulips… tulips are nice. You have no pictures or paintings - that’s not helping any either.”
“So what, I should hire you as my interior decorator now?”
“I’ll accept payment only in Belgian chocolate.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he walked so he was standing behind you as you sat, “ma’am but I think I can make that work.”
He wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed a kiss to your head. “Think I might keep you around for some pretty decor.”
You almost choked on your eggs. Your arm swung back to swat at his ass. “Now you know better than to be calling me that.”
He nuzzled your neck. “You know I was only joking.”
“Lucky for you, yes, I did know.”
“Still wanna keep you around.” He admitted.
You turned slightly to face him. “Did I say I was leaving?”
“You almost left.” He reminded you.
“Almost. But I think “almost” is gonna turn into “never” now.”
“Don’t say shit you don’t mean, sweetheart.” His voice almost cracked on the word “don’t”.
Your expression hardened slightly. “Don’t you dare tell me what I don’t mean, Jack Abbot.”
Summary: After finding you were pregnant with Joel's baby, the two of you couldn't be happier, after the nights you spent trying. And as time goes on, Joel finds himself head-over-heels with how your body has changed to provide for their baby. And though you don't find yourself as attractive as before, he'll make sure you know that he loves and is feral over every single part of you.
Content Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, smut - MDNI 18+, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Joel being feral over readers body, piv, dirty talk, insecurities (reader), praise kink, . Let me know if I miss anything!
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: This is the second part of 'Till It Sticks. The idea was given in the comments of 'Till it Sticks by @rafeysgirl5, and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I hope this lives up to what you imagined. This is my take on it.
AO3 | Main Masterlist
'Till it Sticks: Part 2
When you and Joel began trying for a baby, you two made a promise to not to make it methodical or something that became a forced habit instead of the intimacy naturally happening. And that's what the two of you did. Whenever you'd be intimate, it'd always be because the two of you wanted to do it, not because it was something that needed to be done.
Around six months ago, you told Joel that you were pregnant. And he lost it, in a good way. Through the months, he was attentive to your every need and want. He made sure to keep you satisfied in any way he could. That even meant he made sure that you knew he adored your changing body more than anything.
And he wasn't lying.
When he took in the sight of your stomach rounding out with his baby, the way your breasts were changing to provide for the baby, it did things to his body that he couldn't hide from you, no matter how much he tried. And today, that was one of the things you needed most from him.
Being pregnant meant that the amount of intimacy you had with Joel before had lessened, mainly because he didn't want anything happening to the baby. And you couldn't blame him, not in the slightest, because it was also one of your fears, too.
The house was quiet in a way that had grown familiar throughout the days. Afternoon light drifted in through the slant in the window, caused by the curtains. You find yourself watching the way the light came and went when the clouds went by, lost in your own thoughts. Your hands were folded together over the gentle swell of your stomach as you tried to settle the restless knot in your chest.
It wasn’t that you doubted Joel’s love - you never once had a reason to - but there were days when your own reflection felt unfamiliar. When the changes in your body made you feel like you were borrowing someone else’s skin, and all you saw was a stranger staring back at you.
Joel moved through the room with his steady presence that always made you feel at home. His boots created the familiar pattern against the wooden floors. He had just gotten back home. When you looked up, he was already there, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, expression gentler than he probably realized he was capable of showing. But with you, it came naturally.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low, gentle.
You nodded out of habit. In the past few months, you didn’t want him overly worried about you, but either way, he always pressed for the truth, saying that “I’m supposed to be takin’ care of you,” and “That’s our lil’ one in there. Whatever either of you need, I’m gettin’. it”
“Yeah, just… tried, I guess.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, not entirely. The days felt heavier lately, your body asking more of you than it ever used to. Some nights, the exhaustion came easily, and the aches in your body were followed by comforting massages that Joel effortlessly provided, no matter how long or difficult his way was.
He crossed the room in a few strides before he crouched in front of you with a small grunt, one hand coming to rest at your knee. “You don’t gotta pretend with me, darlin’. What’s goin’ on?” His touch was light, like he was holding himself back from putting the full weight of his hand on your knee. It was as if you were something precious, and he didn’t want to break you with a tiny movement.
You softly nodded, because you knew he was right. You let out a slow breath and looked down at your hands. “I know you say you love how I look,” you began, “but sometimes I don’t even feel like me. I feel like I’m looking at someone I don’t know. And it feels like I’m taking up too much space. I dunno if you still want me like this.”
Joel’s brow creased, and for a second, he looked like he was processing your words. He slid his hand up, resting it over yours where it was resting on your stomach. “You ain’t takin’ up space,” he said quietly. “You’re makin’ it. For kid.” He lifts one of your hands, unfolding it from your other before pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “I see you. All of you. Nothin’ ‘bout this makes me want you any less,”
He shifted closer, tilting his head so he was leveled with you, his gaze searching your face. “I know this is hard. Your body’s changin’ more than you like. But what you’re doin’ ain’t small. It's pretty damn beautiful, and nothin’ to feel bad ‘bout.”
You swallowed, eyes dropping to where his hand is holding yours, trying to blink back the tears that formed from his words. He followed your gaze, “You’re still beautiful, baby. I don’t ever want you thinkin’ I see you as fragile, or off-limits, none of that. You’re still you, still mine. Still the woman I fell for and chose every day.
His thumb stilled against your palm before leaning forward, pressing a kiss against your stomach, his eyes still on your gaze, “And if there are any more days you don’t recognize yourself,” he added quietly, “then you let me do the recognizin’ for you. I got enough room in me to do that for you, alright?”
You swallowed, emotion tightening your throat. It helped to hear it said out loud, helped to have his steadiness anchoring you back into your body. When you leaned forward, the best you can, he met you halfway, forehead resting against yours.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The quiet wrapped around you again, but this time it felt fuller, charged with the things you weren’t saying. Joel’s hand drifted from your stomach to your side, settling there with a certainty that made your chest ache.
“Come here,” he murmured, voice roughened by emotion more than anything else. He drew you closer, slow and deliberate, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. You didn’t. The closeness eased the knot in your chest, the familiar comfort of him grounding you.
He lowered his head, his lips finding the taut skin of your belly. He didn’t just kiss it; he worshipped it. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. “Every inch of you,” he murmured against you, the words vibrating through your core. “So soft. So round. All mine. All for me.”
His hands traced the lines of your stretch marks, not with hesitation, but with reverence. “And these… Jesus, honey. These are proof. Proof that I was here. That I put this baby in you. That I loved you so goddamn deep your body had to change to make room for it. There is nothin’ sexier in this whole damn world.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a potent mix of emotion and pure, unadulterated lust. Your insecurities melted away under the heat of his gaze, the sheer devotion in his touch. He moved up your body, capturing your lips in a deep, claiming kiss that tasted of love and a desperate, aching need.
When he pulled back, his eyes were burning. “I need to be inside you, honey. Need to feel you. Need to remind you who you belong to.”
You nodded, wordless, already arching your hips up to meet him. He wasted no time, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your legs. His own boxers followed, and then he was settling between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging at your slick entrance.
He looked down at where your bodies were about to join, his jaw tight with a primal kind of awe. “Look at that,” he breathed. “So ready for me. Always so fuckin’ ready for your man.”
He pushed inside, a slow, deliberate stretch that stole the air from your lungs. He filled you completely, a perfect, overwhelming fullness. He stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged pants.
“Feel me?” he rasped, his hips rocking in a shallow, teasing rhythm. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m already so close to her?” You whimpered, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he smirked, a dark, knowing glint in his eyes. “Like knowin’ I’m right there. Like knowin’ I already bred this perfect pussy once, made it swell up with my baby. Fuck, honey… I could do it all over again. Right now. Just fill you up until you’re drippin’ with me.”
His words were filthy, a deliciously dirty litany that pushed you higher and higher. He began to move in earnest then, his strokes long and deep, grinding against that sensitive spot inside you with every pass. One hand slid down to grip your hip, holding you steady for his thrusts, while the other remained protectively on your belly, even as he was in the middle of making love to you.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he panted, his rhythm picking up speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “All swollen with my kid. Made for me. Made to take my cock, made to carry my babies.”
The pressure inside you was building to an unbearable peak, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your core. “Joel,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back. “Please…”
“I know, honey,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. “I feel it. Squeezin’ my cock so tight. Come on. Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel.”
He shifted his angle just slightly, and that was all it took. The coil snapped, and you cried out as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. Your inner muscles clenched around him, rippling and milking his length.
“Fuck, yes,” he groan, his own control shattering. He drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came, his hot release pulsing deep inside you. He collapsed against you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.
For a long moment, you just lay there, tangled together, your hearts beating a frantic, synchronized rhythm against your ribs. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something deeper, something that was uniquely Joel and you.
He finally stirred, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your temple. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Both of you. So goddamn much.”
He shifted to his side, pulling you with him so you were spooned against his chest again, his arm draped protectively over your waist. His hand came to rest on your belly, and you felt it then—a tiny, fluttering kick against his palm.
Joel froze, then a wide, awestruck grin spread across his face. “See?” he whispered, his lips brushing your hair. “Told you. She knows her daddy’s here. And he’s never, ever leavin’.”
You lifted your head just enough to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the way your chest still felt tight with emotion. “She?” you echoed, arching a brow. “Since when are you so sure?”
Joel huffed a quiet laugh, the sound more breath than anything, his thumb brushing slow circles against your arm. “I dunno,” he said, a little sheepish now that the awe had softened into something gentler. “Just feels like a girl. Call it a hunch.”
“Or call it you gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you teased lightly. “What if she’s a he, huh? You gonna take that back?”
He shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “Ain’t takin’ nothin’ back,” he murmured. “Boy, girl—don’t matter to me. Long as they’re healthy. Long as they’re ours.” Then, after a beat, he added, “As long as your there with us.”
You laughed softly, warmth blooming in your chest at the certainty in his voice. “I’ll be okay.”
His grin turned lazy, fond. “Yeah,” he agreed easily. “You better be.”
The familiar warmth of him, the steadiness of his presence, eased the last of the doubt from your chest. You felt lighter in a way you hadn’t realized you’d been missing, like something you’d been bracing for had finally loosened its grip.
You turned your head just enough to look at him, your fingers tracing an absent pattern against his side. The fear you’d been carrying—the quiet worry that you were somehow less to him now—felt smaller in the face of everything he was and everything he showed you without needing to say it. He was here. He always had been.
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calling him your “current” boyfriend prank | jack abbot x fem!reader
summary: exactly what the title says :3 reader is a social media influencer!
a/n: wow look at me being activeee! i’ve been in a fattttt slump lately i apologize.
Jack walks into the room as you’re setting up your phone to start filming at your vanity and he walks over to you immediately, placing a kiss on the top of your head before going to lay down.
You try your best to hide your mischievous smile while you hit the record button on your phone.
“Hey everyone, Get ready with me for the day! Also if you hear noises in the background thats just my current boyfriend watching a show.” As you say that, Jacks head rises up from the bed slightly.
“What’d you say?” He asks, but you ignore him.
You press the record button again. “Sorry guys, my current boyfriend was talking to me.”
“I have a really fun day planned. I’m going golfing and then a lunch date straight after with my current boyfriend.”
You see Jack shoot up from the bed and speed walk right over to where you’re sitting.He comes up behind you, tilting your head up towards him with his finger tips on your jaw.
“Say that again. I dare you.” He warns.
“You’re my current boyfriend, are you not?” You say teasingly while giggling.
Within a split second he scoops you up from your chair and throws you over his shoulder. He gives your ass a loud slap and you laugh some more.
“Jack! Wait— I was just messing with you!” You giggle.
Summary: Joel asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get the soccer moms off his back. How convenient that you're both kind of in love with each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: no outbreak, friends to lovers, FAKE DATING, mentions of dead spouse, a little angst, soccer moms (ugh), fluff, making out, smut (protected sex), dirty talk, a lot of kissing, Joel being in love, banner just for the vibes
Part of Fake Dating drabbles
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
You understood his weekly dread of going to Sarah’s soccer matches now.
It wasn’t the soccer or the getting up at 6 am to drive to some god awful town hours away to watch a bunch of teenage girls play ball.
It was the soccer moms.
And Joel was the only single Dad of the group. There was flirting. There were definitely not occasion appropriate attire and cleavage. There was touching.
And that was only what you saw as you watched him in the middle of at least six women who were fussing over him like he was the only men left alive while you made your way towards the field from the parking lot.
He had asked you before if you would accompany him to one of Sarah’s games.
You had been neighbours since before Sarah was born. He had inherited the fixer upper next door when he just turned twenty and made the most out of it. You had seen his life fall apart within months from the moment he found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant not long after. They had tried to get back together again.
It was you and your late husband Andrew who had been there for him once Sarah was born and his ex had left him alone. You probably spent more times in Joel’s house than your own in those first weeks, all of you being new to taking care of a new born.
But Sarah made it easy.
Andrew, Joel and you grew close in the coming years.
So close that Joel was the first one you called when you were sitting in a hospital in the early morning hours after an accident on your way back from your summer vacation.
An accident Andrew did not survive.
He showed up an hour later with a sleeping Sarah in his arms, holding you all night as you cried into his shoulder.
The time after that was blurry. But you knew Joel was there every single step through your grief, right beside you.
He was your best friend.
And as best friends it was okay to ask you to pretend to be dating him to get the soccer moms off his back, right?
It’s not like he knew that you kind of fell in love with him over the last year, right?
With a nervous inhale you put a smile on your face as you approached Joel from behind, his broad back standing out to you in between the moms who had only eyes for him. You put one of your arms around him as you sneaked to his side, feeling him stiffen for a moment as you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He smiled down at you, instantly relaxing, his arm coming around you to pull you closer against his side.
„Hi,“ he smiled warmly and you smiled back.
„Sorry I’m late. The line was endless,“ you lied and he chuckled. You felt his hand rest on your hip, squeezing you lightly.
„Glad you could make it. Sarah is gonna be excited to see you,“ he said. Like you had not seen her yesterday when you had dinner together at your house.
He kissed your temple and you closed your eyes for a moment before you turned your head too look at the people standing around you. The women were glaring at you and didn’t even attempt to hide it.
„If you'll excuse me ladies. We got a match to watch,“ Joel said, not waiting for an answer before he pulled you towards the field, not letting go of you.
„I can practically feel them trying to kill me with their eyes,“ you mumbled and he huffed a laugh.
„I told you. I didn’t even do anything. They just appear out of thin air once I get here,“ he groaned and you rolled your eyes. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d pretend to not now the looks he received from women around him.
Joel Miller was a catch and everyone knew it.
You came to stand at the fence separating the field and the audience, watching as the girls warmed up on the soccer field. Sarah saw you and waved wildly and you waved back with a bright smile. You felt Joel stand behind you, before his hands came down next to yours on the fence.
„Thank you for doing this,“ he hummed against your ear as he leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder for a moment. You took a deep breath.
„Anything for you,“ you mumbled, gasping when he fell into you against the fence, someone having pushed him. You heard him groan lowly against your ear, his body flush against yours. He took a step back immediately, turning to his side but you were pretty sure you had felt his hard bulge press into your ass for a second.
You turned your head to look at him, finding his cheeks a little flushed as he looked everywhere but at you. But before you could say anything the kids coach cheered the girls on and they got into position for the game to start.
And a couple minutes later Joel was standing behind you again, and you were leaning against his strong chest, one of his arms around your stomach as you watched his daughter play soccer on the field in front of you.
„Are we…. Are we still pretending to be dating?“ You mumbled against his lips, your fingers unbuttoning his flannel.
Things had…. Escalated a little.
One of his hands was on the side of your neck, tilting your head up as his lips moved against yours, your body pressed against the wall next to his bedroom, his body caging you in.
„Do you want to be pretending?“ He asked, his lips kissing down your throat as his other hand came to squeeze one of your tits over your shirt.
„Cause I haven’t been all day,“ he mumbled and you gasped.
You were both still fully clothed, having spent the whole day together on the soccer field, pretending to be dating.
It was pretend when he held your hand while you grabbed food.
It was pretend when he pulled you on his lap when there wasn’t enough place to sit.
It was pretend when you went up and kissed him when one of the soccer moms had her hands on his chest.
Right?
„Joel….“ You hummed letting you head fall against the wall as his hand slipped under your shirt and towards your chest. You finally had his flannel open your fingernails scratching over the shirt he was wearing underneath.
„I… I don’t want to pretend. I… I want you. I want you all the time,“ you confessed, your eyes closed as he sucked on the soft skin on your neck.
He looked at you then a small smile on his flushed lips.
„Good,“ he simply said, before he kissed you again and pulled you towards his bedroom.
He undressed you slowly, kissing a path from your lips down to your hips before he told you to lay down.
With your arms spread out on his mattress you looked up at him as he got out of his clothes, biting your lip when you saw his thick cock, already glistening at the tip.
„Dreamed of this,“ he said as he joined you on the bed, crawling on top of you, kissing you softly as he laid down between your spread legs.
You nipples hardened as his chest brushed against yours, the only thought in your head being that you wanted him closer. Always closer.
„Yeah?“ You asked with a small smile, your fingers brushing over his back. He nodded.
„Me too. Dreamed of this for months,“ you confessed and he kissed you again.
„Months?“ He asked kissing your nose.
„Mhh… Think I knew when you fixed my bathroom sink and explained every little step you were doing. Thought back then that I’d listen to everything you’d explain to me as long as you wouldn’t leave,“ you said quietly, a little shy.
You parted your lips when you felt his cock slip though your folds.
„When you held Sarah after she fell from her bike last year. I watched you with my daughter in your arms and thought to myself, fuck I’m in love with her,“ he said and you felt a tear slip out of your eyes.
You tilted your chin up to find his lips in a deep kiss before you brought one hand down and between your bodies, hearing him moan when your fingers wrapped around his stiff cock.
„Wanna taste you first,“ he mumbled against your lips.
You shook your head.
„Plenty of time for that after. Wanna feel you please,“ you pumped his cock and he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours.
„Fuck. Fuck okay. Condom?“ He asked and you grinned.
„You got some? I’m on birth control and I trust you,“ you said. He looked at you for a moment before he shook his head.
„The last time I didn’t use a condom with someone who was on birthcontrol I got Sarah,“ he chuckled before he pushed off of you and reached towards his bedside table, finding a little golden foil package, ripping it open and pulling it over his cock.
He came back to kneel between your legs, one of his hands wrapped around his cock while he reached for a pillow and with a grin.
You grinned back, arching your back as he pushed the pillow under you and under your ass before both of his hands pulled you towards him. You crossed your legs behind his ass, pulling him closer as he leaned down, lining his cock up with your pussy.
„No more pretending,“ he whispered and you shook your head.
„No more pretending,“ you repeated before you kissed him as he slowly pushed inside of you.
Your lips parted against his as he slipped inside you, both of you breathing heavily, a quiet moan coming from you as he stretched you.
You hadn’t been with anyone since your husband died and Joel wasn’t exactly small.
"You okay?“ He asked, slowing down.
You just nodded, before you kissed him again, finding yourself enjoying the stretch of his cock as it pushed slowly inside of you.
„Keep going, feels so fucking good,“ you mumbled against his lips and you felt him smile as he moved, his cock moving inside of you until his whole length was filling you, both of you releasing a loud breath.
„Should have done this sooner,“ he said as he pulled back and began to slowly fuck into you. You had one hand in his hair, the other on his ass, feeling him as he moved inside of you, his cock filling you perfectly with every thrust.
„Yeah,“ you moaned, closing your eyes.
„Keep your eyes open,“ he hummed and you did, finding him looking at you.
„I wanna see you when you cum on my cock,“ he said and your walls clenched, making him smirk.
„You liked that, huh?“ He asked and you nodded slowly.
„Keep going,“ you whimpered.
„You know what I think of when I jerk myself off in the shower? I imagine the way you look when you cum. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum so hard you see stars. I wonder how you taste. I wonder if you like it hard or slow. I wonder if you wear these pretty lace panties I saw hanging in your bathroom that one time whenever you’re around me,“ he continued and you whimpered his name.
„I wonder if you would let me fuck you at the dining table when we have dinner together. Or if you’d suck me off in the garage when we have a couple minutes to ourselves. Or on the couch after we watched a movie. I wonder if I can make you scream my name so everyone knows that you’re mine,“ he said before he kissed you and changed the angle of how he was fucking you, his cock hitting a spot inside of you that had you shaking.
„I’m gonna take you to the lake house this weekend so I can have you screaming as loudly as you want to,“ he said and you nodded biting your lip to keep quiet, still mindful of the child sleeping down the hall.
„Cum for me baby, let me feel you,“ he said as he crashed his lips down on yours and you shattered, coming harder than you had ever before, your legs shaking as he kept pumping his cock into you in quick deep thrusts.
„Fuuuuuck,“ you cried quietly against his lips, feeling his lips twitch into a smile.
„Beautiful,“ he hummed before his hips stuttered his cock pulsing inside of you as he slowly continued to fuck into you, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he orgasmed.
Both sweaty and out of breath you just looked at each other before he kissed you and slowly rolled you to the side, pulling you against his chest, his cock softening and still resting inside of you.
Kissing his chest you nuzzled against him, feeling his arms tighten around your body.
„Best fake date ever,“ you grinned and you felt him chuckle, before he kissed your head just as you drifted off to sleep.
prompt: [49.] lying chest to chest, feeling their heartbeat slow back down against yours.
[51.] "come here" said softly — not urgently. just wanting them close again
hope you like it! | cw: implied sex, aftercare. mentions of fire and children being hurt. 0.4k words
john falls to his place on the bed by your side with a pleased huff, the two of you desperately trying to catch your breaths. the sun is breaching through the curtains, and now that you have finally settled down, the rays are starting to annoy you, but neither you nor john have steady enough legs to get up and do something about it.
“come here.” john murmurs.
you groan.
“come here, baby. i want– need to hold you.” john tells you softly, hand already going to caress your hair before he snakes his arm under your shoulder to scoop you closer. “how was the night?”
“fucking sucked, had to cover the fire down on north craig. you know how i hate it when there are children involved.”
your job as a field journalist wasn’t always the easiest or the best. you worked at nights, just like john did, travelling around the city at the moments notice to cover whatever incident happened.
that was how you met your fiancé around two years ago, covering a multiple car crash that happened just around the corner of john’s old apartment. it was around ten in the morning, your shift ended three hours prior but you had wrapped up just a few minutes before john bumped into you. he excused himself, instantly recognising you from the news. with a tired smile on his face, that matched the tired look in your eyes, he asked if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee in the shop beside his building.
surprisingly, it wasn’t a dunkin.
“we got some of the kids over at the pitt, presby’s pediatric wing was full. was kinda hoping you weren’t the one to cover the cases, i’m sorry.”
“it’s fine. i was the only one on shift last night, craig had an emergency in his wife’s family and had to travel to oregon.”
john’s heartbeat was in a steady, calm rhythm now, and it was starting to sound like a lullaby to you. he could feel you were starting to drift to sleep by how sluggish your voice was starting to sound.
“i was going to offer to make us breakfast but you are about to pass out, huh?”
your response comes in the form of a nod against his chest and he chuckles. “alright, sleep and then breakfast.”
domesticblisss 2026 comments and reblogs are appreciated. dividers by andromeda-graphics
jack feels guilty for moving on from his late wife and it takes a GSW for him to realise he doesn't want to lose you too.
jack abbot x reader, angst, gn!reader, resident!reader, no description of reader, mutual feelings, gunshot wound, minor character death mentioned, suicidal ideation (jack), 2k words
jack would never miss an anniversary. his wife's birthday, their first date, their wedding day. the date of her passing. those numerals are seared into his memory.
this one isn't an anniversary per se, but it is an annual tradition nevertheless and it slipped his mind. ever since jack and his then-girlfriend accidentally walked into the first iteration of the pittsburgh little italy days while out on a date, they'd made it a habit to attend every year. and even after her passing, jack upheld the tradition.
this year however he's caught up at work and his TEMS side gig and his one day off for the duration of the festival he spends at the bar with his coworkers.
because you're there.
it's only a few days later that he overhears a patient mentioning the festival and realises he missed it.
it scares him. it's only been two and a half years and already he's starting to forget his wife? because he got distracted by a little crush? he won't let it happen again.
so jack distances himself from you. it's subtle and most people don't notice anything different. he guides you as your attending, stays professional where professionalism is required, jokes when the situation allows for it. same as he does with everyone else.
but that's just it. with you it used to be... more. a little too much warmth, a pat on the shoulder for a job well done that lingered a little too long, flirty remarks that seemed a little too real. the remarks are never flirty anymore. and he avoids going out for drinks now if he knows you're coming.
you notice. of course you do. you used to savour every trivial exchange, every accidental touch. looking forward to jack's quips kept you motivated to come into work when you felt like you could sleep for days.
you can't think of anything you've done wrong and you sure as hell can't ask him why he's stopped his subtle displays of favouritism. you start to doubt there ever was any to begin with. maybe it was all in your head and you were subconsciously forcing these interactions. maybe jack just finally caught on to your inappropriate feelings for him.
so you step away. you don't jump at the opportunity to work on a case with him anymore. report to shen more often. just enough to give him space. not enough to make him notice. you make a conscious effort to smile. trinity even comments that you seem more upbeat lately. in reality getting out of bed is becoming a chore. you could probably use a distraction, but when mateo asks if you're joining for drinks, you decline, because you'd heard jack say he'd think about it. with time, the forced smile begins to fade.
robby and dana notice that something is up with jack. that he seems to be getting worse again after all the progress he'd made in therapy. eventually robby finds him on the roof top again. that's when he finally gets jack to confess he missed the little italy festival. robby tries telling him that maybe this is not a bad thing, that maybe it means jack is moving on. but moving on is not what jack wants.
it's not like jack sought it out. he was just trying to help his buddy hiro. yes, he hadn't cared all that much for his own life in the situation. but it's only natural for a field medic to risk their life to save another. he's done it before. he knows the bullet didn't hit his carotid, otherwise he wouldn't still be here, on a gurney, on the way to PTMC. hiro, on the other hand, is in a body bag.
the first face jack sees once the ambulance doors swing open is robby, who clearly didn't expect his GSW patient to be jack, judging by the flurry of curse words and admonishments.
the second face is yours. wide-eyed and scared. terrified, even. jack wishes he had been more careful after all, if that had kept you from looking like that. you two aren't even that close, so why are you making that face? have you never had to treat someone you were close with before?
he loses sight of you as he's being rolled in, he thinks he hears robby yell at you. he'll need to tell him to tone it down with his outbursts at staff once he's out of surgery.
huh.
he does want to make it out of surgery, doesn't he? not a sentiment one should be surprised by.
inside trauma 1 everyone huddles around him, it all becomes a blur of noise and white and red. robby has switched from being pissed to reassuring jack. "we got you, brother," jack faintly hears among the other voices. he tries to make out the faces above him. it's hard to look around with three sets of hands working on your neck. jesse, santos, mckay, donnie. even langdon appears to be back. half the ED is working on him, but where did you go? jack feels like he hasn't seen you in days. he must have. he knows you were scheduled together. you just never interacted anymore.
"BP dropping!" someone calls out to his left.
jack should count himself lucky. he survived two gunshot wounds – he hadn't even registered the one to his shoulder – and figured out he wasn't ready to go. to a large part because he wanted to see you again.
but here he was, second day in recovery, and he hadn't seen you since the ambulance bay. everyone jack considered to be on friendly terms with had come to visit, some in a larger group when he first woke up from surgery, others dropped by throughout the day for more personal visits. you were never one of them.
robby is a frequent visitor, of course. even now he's leaning back in a chair by jack's bed, telling a story about someone getting impaled by the american flag that jack only listens to halfheartedly.
"listen," robby leans forward and jack's absentminded fidgeting with his wedding ring ceases. "i gotta ask you..."
jack raises an eyebrow, giving robby his full attention.
robby still hesitates.
"as the chief attending... i have to..." he rubs his face in frustration.
"wow, this gotta be serious," jack comments on his friends odd behaviour.
robby just stares at him for a moment.
"jack... are you fucking your senior resident?"
jack's eyebrows shoot up. "excuse me?"
robby leans back again. "you heard me, man, don't make it more difficult than it needs to be."
"let me get this straight," jack says, "you're accusing me of sleeping with one of my residents? you?"
"i'm painfully aware of the hypocrisy, i am. but as the chief atten–"
"yeah, right, chief attending, got it," jack dismisses him. "how do you even... why would you think that?" jack asks.
robby rubs his forehead, thinking.
"when you were brought in..." robby laughs in distress, "the shmuck dipped out of the case, man." he gives jack a pained look. "disappeared into fucking thin air," he spreads his arms, "poof, gone," he shrugs. robby seems close to hysteric. jack should've realised this would remind him of adamson. "got mckay to jump in," robby continues. "claimed compromised objectivity when i asked." he leans his elbows onto his knees. "so i need to know, jack. i need to know whether... whether this was a case of job abandonment or incompetence or what."
when robby remains silent, jack turns away and stares at the ceiling.
"i'll have to get back to you on that one," he finally says.
"jack... don't do this, man. just... do i need to tell gloria we have an opening for a senior attending?"
"fuck, robby, no," jack turns to face him again. "don't... don't blow this out of proportion."
"you could have died, jack," robby says, getting agitated. "and if this... if the two minutes until mckay got to us..."
jack can't be certain of your reasons, but he saw your face. and he trusts your judgement. you knew you couldn't do it and you did the next best thing.
downstairs you're swallowing the last piece of a granola bar as you walk out of the break room, tossing the wrapper into the bin as you walk past it. your phone dings and you take a quick look.
Dr. Jack Abbot: 'Just a heads up, I told Robby you couldn't work on my case because of our affair.'
you stop dead in your tracks. are you having a stroke? you read the message again. a third time. still the same words. does affair have a secondary meaning, you wonder. then, a horrible thought hits you: was this meant for someone else? is jack having–
your phone buzzes in your hand, making you jump and drop and it.
"fuck," you hurry to pick it up.
lena is eyeing you over her glasses, "you okay there?"
"yeah all good," you assure her and glance at the new message.
Dr. Jack Abbot: 'Should probably bring this to HR.'
it's almost 10pm when you finally manage to sneak out for a minute. jack might already be asleep, recovery wards don't exactly cater to a night shift circadian, but this is driving you insane, you need to at least check.
a faint shimmer of light is seeping out from underneath the door to jack's room. the tv maybe, or a table lamp. so you hope you don't wake him when you knock.
"yes?" comes back almost immediately.
you poke in your head first. "dr. abbot?" the small lamp on his bedside table is indeed on and the tablet in jacks hands casts additional light onto his face. "could i come in for a minute?"
"better late than never."
"oh i'm sorry," you say, stepping in but still holding on to the door handle, "i can come back in the morning," you suggest.
"not what i meant," jack says, "come in," he turns off the tablet and sets it onto the bedside table.
you stand a little ways away to the side. "i uhm, got a weird text message," you begin.
"first you refuse to work on me, "jack interrupts, "and now i don't even get a 'how are you'?"
a moment passes as you digest what he just said. yet another mention of you not working on his case.
"how... are you?" you finally ask, sounding robotic.
"never been better."
wow, you think, that's a lot of sarcasm even for jack abbot.
"were..." you rephrase, "did you... missend those messages?"
"missend?"
"sent them to the wrong person," you clarify.
jack looks somewhat dumbfounded. "how many people do you think there are that noped out of my case due to 'compromised objectivity'?"
"i... wouldn't know, i wasn't there," you joke meekly.
jack smiles half a smile.
"robby was on the verge of getting you fired," jack explains and you start to panic. "he's not going to," jack immediately assuages, "not now that he's not doubting your reasons.
"oh." jack lied to save your job. "thank you. i'm sorry i put you into this position."
"it wasn't a lie, was it?" he asks, "the compromised objectivity?"
blood rushes to your head. you can only admit to the unprofessional feelings that may or may not have made jack uncomfortable enough to avoid you or you can leave him to believe he unwittingly lied to his friend.
"no." you want to add 'i'm sorry.'
"can i ask you out on a date, then?"
a flutter of butterflies erupts in your stomach.
you suffocate them immediately. jack doesn't mean that. maybe he's joking. maybe he hit his head during the incident.
"to keep up appearances with dr. robby?" you ask.
"no," jack says, "i'm serious."
he sounds serious.
ah.
"you just had a near-death experience," you remind the both of you. "maybe give it a week or two for the–"
"it's not that," jack interrupts, sounding serious again.
don't fall for it.
you give him a smile that is supposed to be sympathetic, but even you feel must look condescending. "i should go back to work," you tell jack, "thank you again for saving my job."
you turn to the door and pretend not to hear him calling out for you to wait.
notes: pittsburgh little italy days are a real thing, first created in 2002, and are held in mid august over the course of four days.
also, i really hope i used shmuck correctly, english is not my first language and yiddish even less so, but i really needed a gender neutral term and couldn't think of anything better. corrections are welcome!
genre: jack abbot x attending!reader, rom com, eventual smut nsfw, best friend john shen (sorry i cannot stop writing him as besties. love him down)
the window to have a child is closing and you're done waiting for love to find you first before doing it. naturally, you ask the three men who you feel would be best for the task. the problem? one of them has been in love with you for longer than he's willing to admit.
(a/n: ahhhhhh new fic time guys. been sitting on this one for a minute. truthfully, haven't felt too inspired lately and tbh that's because i've been hella depressed & my physical health hasn't been the best either. anyways, been doing more hobbies and what not to help. but i hope you like this!! i can't say how long it will be, so i'm just going with the flow :) thanks for reading!)
word count: 2000
The kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary, and you were elbow deep in suds when you heard Jack's voice carry from the dining room, a little too loud for someone who probably thought he was being subtle. "This is weird, right? Like the vibes are off, I'm not crazy."
Robby just nodded in agreement, not even bothering to disagree.
John, on the other hand, wasn't fazed. "Can't really say. I mean, I live here, so this is kinda my everyday."
Jack cocked his head, visibly confused. "She cooks for you like this every day?"
John laughed. "No way. She's just weird. Always."
"Don't say that." Jack said, shaking his head.
John rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you can't see it past those love glasses you have on."
Jack had the gall to look offended. "I don't have love…whatever."
He was spared only because you were walking in, setting a basket of rolls down on the table. You dropped into your seat and waved a hand at all of them. "Okay, eat."
Conversation came easy the way it always did with the three of them. Robby recounting some disaster with a drunk patient who'd tried to leave AMA in nothing but a hospital gown, John needling Jack about his coffee order, the conversation of people who liked each other more than they let on. But as plates started to empty, you set your fork down and took a breath.
"So, I'm just going to say it." Three heads turned toward you. "Last week I saw a fertility doctor. My window to have a child is closing sooner than I expected. And as you can see" you gestured around the apartment, empty of any partner, any ring, any evidence of a life headed in that direction "I have no partner, which leaves me at a crossroads. I am going to do artificial insemination."
Jack choked on his drink. Robby, unbothered, tilted his head. "You saw David? I'm surprised he got you in for a consult that fast."
You smiled at him. "I told him I'd babysit his kids while he takes his wife out Friday. Bumped me up the list."
Robby shook his head, equal parts amused and unsurprised, and you kept going. "Anyways. After crying in my car about it for a solid twenty minutes, I've narrowed down my list of donors."
You let your eyes drift around the table slowly. "...oh no." John said.
You turned to him, all sweetness. "Oh yes. It's between the three of you. Now, we can all discuss separately, but I wanted to get it out on the table so that whoever's totally against it can move on, and I can choose accordingly."
Jack just stared, mouth open, before he finally sputtered. "I mean..what? No. You're so young. You're gonna find someone and they'll give you a baby. This is crazy."
You couldn't help but laugh a little, though it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Is it, Jack? My last boyfriend ghosted me after dating for six months. Mind you, he told me he loved me, and we went ring shopping the night before he disappeared. The string of dates I've been on since have all been losers. This is happening on my terms. And it's what I want."
Jack couldn't argue with that. He didn't even try. Robby cleared his throat instead. "I mean, I can't argue with you either, but honey, I'm old. I don't even know if my guys still swim."
"Be so for real, Robby, you are in great shape."
He just shrugged, unconvinced but pleased. You turned to John. "You're being awfully quiet. No retort from the peanut gallery tonight?"
He held up both hands. "No, I'm actually considering it. You're hot, so am I. Our kid would be fucking awesome."
Robby and Jack both groaned in unison, a chorus of ewwwws, napkins flying across the table at John's head. You just laughed and threw an arm around him, pulling him into a hug. Your best friend in the whole wide world. Of course he'd say yes without blinking.
"What would Emma say, though?" you asked, once the napkin assault had died down. Emma, the new nurse, the one John had been stupidly happy about since she started.
"I don't think she'd mind," he said "but I should probably not make any unilateral decisions about fathering your child without asking her first."
You stood and started gathering plates, but Jack was up before you'd even reached for his, taking the stack out of your hands without asking. You grabbed the rest and followed him into the kitchen, leaving Robby and John at the table.
Jack set the dishes in the sink, then turned to face you, leaning back against the counter. "Is this really something you'd want?"
You nodded, and it took you a second to find the words, because the honest answer was bigger than a nod.
You'd wanted to be a mother for as long as you could remember wanting anything. A kid with your stubbornness. You'd built a version of that life in your head at twenty two and again at twenty six and again at thirty one, and every time, you'd handed the blueprint to a man who wasn't ready to hold it. You'd waited through the ones who needed to "find themselves" first, the ones who loved you but not enough to choose you. You were tired of being someone's eventually.
You didn't want to build a family around a man's timeline anymore. You wanted this to be the one thing in your life that happened because you decided it, not because someone else finally got around to agreeing.
"Yeah." you finally said. "I do."
Back in the dining room, John scooted his chair closer to Robby, dropping his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry into the kitchen. "I mean, it's obviously gotta be Jack." he said. "He's in love with her."
Robby just shook his head slowly. "Yeah, well. Her feelings for him aren't exactly platonic either."
John's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “Do you know something I don’t?” But before he could push, you and Jack were walking back in, and the conversation died on his tongue.
You clapped your hands together businesslike. "I'm not asking for an answer right now. In fact, take some time. But just know, this would mean the world to me. I think the three of you are more than what I'd find looking for a candidate at a bank. And I'd rather it be someone I already know and trust. You get that, right?"
Three nods. You gave them a small, grateful smile, then turned and headed off toward your room, leaving the three of them alone with considerably more to think about than they'd walked in with.
…
The night air had cooled considerably by the time Robby and Jack made it down to the parking lot, the heat finally letting up now that the sun had been down for hours. Jack unlocked his car , but he didn't get in right away. He just stood there, one hand on the door frame, staring at nothing.
Robby raised an eyebrow over the roof of the car. "You gonna get in, or are we doing this out here?"
"Doing what?"
"Whatever's happening in your head right now. I can hear it from here."
Jack exhaled and finally dropped into the driver's seat. Robby climbed in on the passenger side, and for a second neither of them said anything, the engine ticking as it idled in the cool dark.
"She can't be serious." Jack finally said.
"She seemed pretty serious to me." Robby said as he buckled his seatbelt.
Jack's jaw worked and he just stared out the windshield. "So what, we just..one of us knocks her up and that's that? That's insane. That's not how this is supposed to go for her."
"How's it supposed to go?"
"I don't know. Normal. She meets someone, they fall for each other, they do it the regular way, with.. " he gestured vaguely, "dating, and a proposal, and.."
"You've clearly given this a lot of thought."
Jack shot him a look. Robby just held his hands up, all innocence. "I'm just saying," he continued, "she's not asking anyone to marry her. She's asking for a sample and a signature. That's it. She made that pretty clear."
Jack didn't say anything else. He didn't trust himself to, not with the way his chest had gone tight and stupid the second you'd said his name out loud at that table, lumped in with two other men like he was just an option on a list instead of whatever it was he actually wanted to be to you.
…
After he dropped Robby off at his house, Jack went home to stew.
When he asked you if that’s what you really wanted, he'd wanted, so badly, to close the distance between you right there against the kitchen counter and tell you that he'd give you anything you wanted, that he'd give you all of it. Not a sample in a cup, not a signature on a form, but the whole thing, the ring shopping and the nursery and the 3 a.m. feedings, if you'd just let him.
He hadn't said any of that. Of course he hadn't. He'd just stood there like an idiot and let you walk away.
The thing was, he'd known for a while now. Months, if he was honest, which he wasn't particularly in the habit of being with himself on this subject.
He'd known it the night you'd shown up at his door with soup because you'd heard secondhand he had the flu, standing there in sweatpants and no makeup at eleven at night, telling him you weren't staying, you just didn't trust him to feed himself properly, and then somehow ending up on his couch for two hours anyway, arguing with him about a movie neither of you were really watching.
He'd known it every single time the two of you went toe to toe in the middle of a trauma bay, both of you too stubborn to back down, and somehow he came out the other side of the argument wanting to laugh instead of throttle you, which had never once happened to him with another human being in his entire life.
It added up, until one day he'd looked at you across a nurses' station and understood that he was in love with you and had been for a while.
And now you wanted a baby. Not with him, necessarily but a “donor” and the worst part, the part he kept circling back to and hating himself for, was that some ugly, jealous corner of his mind had already started doing math. John was out, probably, if Emma had anything to say about it. That left him and Robby.
He loved the guy like a brother, but the idea of watching Robby's kid grow up calling you Mom while Jack stood on the sidelines being Uncle Jack made his stomach curdle.
The truth was simple, even if he wasn't ready to say it out loud to anyone, least of all you. He didn't want to be your donor.
He wanted to be your person.
He just had absolutely no idea how to say that to a woman who'd just told him that she'd rather go to a bank than wait around for a man to get his act together.
He was starting to worry he might be exactly the man she meant.
and just need yall to know this picture inspired this fic lolllll
Park the Shark X Single-Mom Reader. Drabble/Headcannon
Reader who starts a job as an anesthesiologist at PTMC. Although she's very fresh in her career Park has a surprising appreciation for her bedside manner. She's capable of providing professional care while offering gentle reassurance to patients who are terrified.
She's always so sweet and lovely while reassuring patients who are fretting over sedation somehow finding a way to make the process seem so much less scary.
Park who has felt his heart do a strange skip when Reader is assigned to his OR and he sees her promise an older gentleman who is terrified of going under that she will "watch over him while he's asleep."
The patient murmurs she's an "absolute angel" and Park can't help but to agree.
Park is down bad from that second on.
People notice the way his eyes soften just the slightest bit when he glances her direction. No one has the balls to call him out of course...no one but Dr. Yolanda Garcia who mutters that Park should "ask her for a drink...shit or get off the pot."
Dr. Park who is hesitant to ask Reader out due to professionalism. The man is a serious surgeon who is all about keeping his head in the game and keeping up with the highest level of care for his patients.
He knows flirting and getting all mooneyed over his anesthesiologist is so not the professional behavior of the best Ortho surgeon in the state.
That doesn't mean he doesn't totally treat Reader a little kinder than he treats most of the staff at PTMC.
Park the Shark he is not with Reader.
He is a man of a few words always serious intense and ready to get straight to the point when it comes to the job at hand.
He asks Reader about her weekend plans though and how her Thanksgiving and Christmas was though...
People at PTMC are giving some serious side eyes when they witness that... Park is being....friendly?
Park who maybe is the Shark just a little bit when it comes to his approach to Reader....his little crush on the pretty anesthesiologist feels much like a shark circling his prey waiting to take a bite.
The circling maybe draws a bit closer in when PTMC puts together a gala and at least a few staff from each department are expected to attend.
Park is maybe a little too eager to attend for the Orthopedic department once he overhears that Reader is the chosen gala sacrifice for the anesthesiology department.
It makes sense. This gala is going to have a ton of donors in attendance and the departments all want to impress so those fancy donations will keep pouring in.
So, of course anesthesia is going to send the young pretty "angel" of their department to charm the donors.
Park is not exactly great in the charm the donors department...so Gloria is a little dumbfounded when the Shark throws his hat in the bucket to attend for the Ortho department.
Dr. Garcia is a little better at the charm game at least when it comes to getting continued donations that might go towards ortho. So, she's the other offering from the ortho department.
Park who maybe sends the same soft eyed looks Readers direction when she shows up to the gala in a soft lovely pink gown.
Park pouts just the slightest bit when he sees Reader dancing with Dr. Jack Abbot. Garcia who rolls her eyes and gives his shoulder a nudge. "You're gonna burn holes in the back of Abbot's skull if you keep looking at him like that, Shark."
Garcia at least does follow up soothing Park's clear jealousy by pointing it out. "It's platonic, you loser. Rumor around the ED is Abbot is lovesick for the new nurse on night shift. Reader's been giving him advice on dating. Abbot might be a flirt but guy's rusty at actual dating. Trust me there is nothing romantic happening there."
Park who feels pathetic when he only manages to share a few fleeting moments with Reader throughout the night.
He does manage to tell her she looks beautiful and maybe does notice the slight flush to her cheeks even if he worries it might be from the champagne she's been drinking and not from any reaction to his compliment.
The donors love Reader...because of course they do.
The donors are annoying and keep wanting to talk to Park...never mind that's the whole purpose of this stupid gala...but they're a cockblock okay.
Park who feels his heart sink when the night ends and he's no closer to wooing Reader than he was originally.
Dr. Park who only comes out to karaoke night with a few other staff members from PTMC when he hears that Reader is coming along.
Park who watches a little too lovingly when Reader and one of the Ortho nurses get tipsy enough to sing "my Heart Will Go on" even if Reader keeps giggling through it and whining "I hate that song, why'd you pick that one??" when the nurse and she leave the stage.
Park who maybe shoves a glass of water Reader's way because as adorable as she is tipsy, he is worried about her...
Park who doesn't sing any songs and no one pushes it because he's the freaking Shark...no one is pressing that.
Reader who does tease him just the slightest and is adamant she's going to get him up on stage for one song one day.
Park who jumps at the chance when Reader grumbles that she carpooled with one of the other doctors from anesthesia and the doctor ditched her to go home with some guy she met.
Park who offers Reader a ride home because he's nursed a beer most of the night and drank ginger ale. He's stone cold sober by this point.
Park who works up the nerve to chat with Reader on the way home making something more than work appropriate small talk.
He tries to compliment her singing voice and she's fast to question if he's as sober as he claims because she sooo can not sing.
Park who pulls up to Reader's apartment building and takes his chance. "Can I take you dinner sometime?"
Park who feels his heart sink when Reader stares up at him wide-eyed. "I don't think that would be a good idea."
She cringes noticing the way he deflates and feels her mouth run before she can stop herself. "It's not that I don't want to. I do like you...I like you a lot. I just...it's complicated."
"What's complicated?" He dares to ask watching her begin to wring her hands togother.
The words that leave her take him by shock. "I have a daughter, Dr. Park. I am not exactly a desirable option on the dating market at this point. I don't really....she's five years old and I don't think...I don't want to create a situation where there's too many guys coming in and out of her life. Her dad already is taking care of that for us. I don't need to add another guy into the mix."
"Who's to say I'd be out of your lives?" Park blurts out unable to stop himself.
She's fast to respond. "You can't mean that. You can't promise something like that."
"I can too. I can mean it." Park is just as fast to argue a bit shocked by how certain of his words he is.
He takes a deep breath knowing he's begging at this point but he doesn't care if he sounds so uncharacteristically pathetic. "Please, just give me a chance. I promise despite the wide consensus among the staff of PTMC I am not a heartless asshole. I stand by what I say. If I say I have zero problems with you having a kid. I have zero intention of backing out of anything if and when you're ready for me to be a part of both of your lives."
Reader who decides to shut up any doubts in the back of her head the words soft. "You aren't a heartless asshole...you're just no nonsense."
She speaks again a sigh leaving her. "Okay...just don't fuck this up, Brendon. That's all I ask. This isn't just me here. There's an entirely other person that comes along with me. She's not a consolation prize that comes along with me. She's a human being who is dependent on me to make better choices than my parents did. I am trying really hard not to fuck up being her mom. I already chose a shit dad for her...just don't make me regret you. I can't choose another shit guy."
Park who does make good on the promises he makes Reader.
Park who goes above and beyond to make sure that it is 100 percent clear that he does not think that Reader being someone's mom makes her undesirable on the dating pool.
Park who lays it on thick when it comes to romancing Reader. He's buying roses and opening doors. He's taking her to candlelight dinners at restaurants where she is not allowed to touch the bill.
He is holding her hand and practically floating away when she dares to press a kiss to his cheek after their first date.
He's letting her make the first moves when it comes to doing more than kisses on the cheek.
He is sure to tell her that he's impressed with her education and career path knowing it wasn't easy given she was pregnant through part of it and caring for a newborn with a baby daddy who was not as involved as he should be.
He's silently questioning how her ex could be such a dumbass? He had a woman like Reader who seems to speak of her kid with so much love. He had a sweet intelligent woman like Reader and he fucked it all up? Well, his loss is Park's gain.
When her daughter has a sleepover with a friend from kindergarten, Reader takes the offer to have dinner at Park's penthouse...which leads to Park's bedroom and Dr. Park showing her that he does not view her as being undesirable at all.
When Reader finally decides that she feels comfortable with Park meeting her daughter he's actually kind of terrified.
He puts on a brave face but can't deny his stomach is churning when he shows up at her place debating if he should have brought the kid flowers or teddy bear or something??? He doesn't want Reader to assume he's trying to buy the kid's approval though. He wants the kid to like him for him.
Park who is so not the Shark the minute he meets Reader's kid. He's dropping down to his knees and reaching out to let the girl shake his hand. He's speaking to her in a soft tone that the residents at the PTMC would be so befuddled by. Park the Shark is being sweet? He can do that?
Reader's daughter who is shy but does at least take Park's hand and shyly tells him how old she is.
Park who anxiously takes Reader and her daughter to the aquarium and to lunch.
Park who feels his heart do a funny thing it's never done before when Reader's daughter holds both of their hands while they're crossing the street heading into the aquarium
Park who feels his heart do that funny thing again when Reader's daughter asks him to read the big words on the exhibit about jellyfish.
Park who maybe buys Reader's daughter a stuffed shark at the gift shop...she asked for it...okay...she picked the shark, not him.
Dr. Park who makes Reader melt just the slightest bit at the end of that day when he asks her daughter if she would be okay with him hanging out with her and her mom again.
Park who feels a sigh of relief leave him when Reader's daughter gives him an affirmative yes.
Park who is perfectly content to take Reader and her daughter out on outings anytime they have time off.
Park who maybe learns to french braid...he watched a Youtube tutorial and told Dr. Garcia to shut the fuck up when she caught him watching it at work and taking notes.
Park who shows up to Reader's daughter's kindergarten graduation with a bouquet of carnations just for the kid and a teddy bear.
Reader's ex who didn't even bother to show up for the kid even if he was invited.
Park who takes Reader and her daughter out for pizza and ice cream after the graduation.
Park who maybe starts to fix up a guest room in his penthouse...buys a little daybed any keeps the room simple...just in case Reader and her kid ever want to stay over at Park's house.
Park who does start to spend the night at Reader's apartment. The first time is accidental.
He's had a long day in the OR and the surgery was rough. It was a success but the patients quality of life won't ever be the same.
Park shows up at Reader's front door not able to explain but he just needs Reader after the day he's had.
Reader who orders Chinese food and Park who tries to teach Reader's daughter to use chopsticks.
Park who is able to let go of the day he had and focus on watching the Pixar movie on the TV with Reader's daughter.
Park who willingly carries the kid to her bedroom after she falls asleep and tucks her in with Reader's help.
Park who takes up Reader's offer to sleep in her bed with her.
Park who makes pancakes the next morning and feels like he never wants to leave.
Park who shows up when Reader is sick and stuck in bed...cause she needs help with her kid and she won't rest while she's caring for her kid.
Park who makes soup for Reader and keeps Reader's daughter occupied. Park who colors with Reader's daughter and keeps her out of her mom's hair so Reader can actually sleep off her illness.
Park who tucks Reader's daughter in bed his heart doing that funny thing again when Reader's daughter speaks. "I love you."
Park who says the words back without any doubts or hesitation.
Park who gets in bed with Reader once the kid is asleep hushing Reader's protests that she's going to get him sick.
Reader who even with a fever and doped up on cough syrup notices the look on Park's face. He looks almost weepy.
Park who kisses her shushing her concern the words leaving him "I love you. I love both of you."
Reader who doesn't bring it up again until after she's over her illness and Park has caught it...which does lead to him sleeping at her place because now it's her turn to take care of him.
Park who drowsily says "I love you." back to Reader's daughter who blurts it out to him when Reader serves the feverish man another Tylenol and some orange juice.
Park who proves that the words aren't just empty when it comes to both Reader and the kid.
Park who dotes on Reader's kid. Park who spends that summer between Reader's daughter's kindergarten years and first grade taking Reader's daughter to the park and to more trips to the aquarium.
Park who introduces both Reader and her daughter to his parents. Reader who is terrified of meeting them.
Park's parents who adore Reader and adore her daughter even more.
Park who later admits his parents have been reminding him that he's not getting any younger and have been pestering him about settling down and having kids for a while now.
So, they are delighted with Reader and her daughter. Reader's daughter is a ready to go grandchild.
Reader whose ex does not take to Park being so involved and threatens to challenge any custody agreements with Reader concerning their daughter.
Park who reminds Reader that the threats are empty. The guy can't even bother to pay child support and has his wages garnished to the point where he's job skipping to avoid paying support.
Park who even offers to get a damn good lawyer if it comes to that point to bury her ex if he wants to get nasty.
Park who actually thinks of Reader's daughter in the mess and wants whatever is most stable for her.
Reader's ex is far from stable. The man is barely around and now all the sudden wants to play dad of the year.
Park who is not shocked when Reader's ex is all talk and no action. The man is late for supervised visitations and conveniently has plans when it comes to him having a chance to have a weekend where he can take his daughter.
Reader's ex who it turns out is mostly only interested in his kid because he doesn't like that Reader has moved on and is actually in a loving relationship.
Park who makes it clear he's not going anywhere and he's not losing Reader to someone who didn't appreciate her to begin with.
Reader who is very quick to reassure Park that she isn't going anywhere and has zero interest in starting anything back up with her ex.
Reader who bluntly tells her ex that she has absolutely no romantic feelings for him and has not for a while. She cares about him as the father to their child, but that's as far as it goes.
Reader's ex who gets a girlfriend and attempts to make Reader jealous by choosing someone who's too into the idea of playing "mommy"
Reader who is silently relieved that her daughter wants nothing to do with that mess, but is frustrated because she knows it stressful as hell for a kid who just turned six.
Park who tries to be the adult in the room and convinces Reader to get a lawyer to iron out some more concrete rules with it comes to what happens with their daughter.
Reader's ex who of course tries to put moves on Reader the second his girlfriend dumps him.
Reader who rightfully rejects him reminding him once again that she has zero interest in picking him back up.
Reader's ex who does not do well when the matter comes before a family judge.
Reader's ex who tries to argue that Park should not be in Reader's daughter's life.
Park who is pissed but thankfully holds back his temper for the sake of Reader's kid.
Reader who does not lose anything relating to her daughter and remains having full custody of the girl.
Park who feels protective of the kid and is so relieved that the family judge was able to see that Park is actually a stable father figure in the kid's life.
Park pays for ballet lessons and takes the kid to school in the morning. Park is the one who helps with homework and makes the kid eat her veggies. Park is the one who takes Reader's kid trick or treating and buys her Barbies.
Park is more of a dad than the biological dad.
Reader and Park who move in together, Park buying a house with a backyard because the kid will need a yard for the swingset he promised her.
Park who buys Reader's daughter rollerskates for Christmas and cringes as the thought of her learning to skate all he can think about is hairline fractures and head injuries.
Park who buys all the knee pads, elbow pads, and a great helmet so the kid will be ready once the snow melts enough and it gets hot enough for her to actually learn to skate.
Park who cringes even more when the kid one day asks for a skateboard, another chance of broken bones.
Reader who has to remind Park that kids have to take risks sometimes. Worrying about scrapes and falls is just part of being a parent.
Park who has nicknames for Reader's kid. "Muffin, Princess, Sweetheart, Babygirl, Sweet Baby."
Park who patiently pulls a weepy kid into bed between Reader and himself when the kid goes through a phase where she's having nightmares practically every night.
Park who patiently checks the closet and under the bed and out the window to reassure the kid that there's nothing scary watching her while she sleeps.
Park who carries a picture of Reader and her kid in his wallet.
Park who melts when Reader's mom brings Reader's kid up to the hospital to have a lunch break with Reader and Park.
Park who has won over Reader's mom...not an easy task given the woman has not trusted men around her daughter and her granddaughter after Reader's ex.
Park who ignores the looks of shock on residents and other PTMC staff's face when he drops down to his knees and hugs Reader's daughter the second she walks into the Ortho department.
Park who tells people she's his daughter when they ask. He never includes the words "step" that's his kid, okay.
Park who enlists Reader's kid when he proposes to Reader. The kid helps him pick the engagement ring.
Park who is scared to death worrying Reader will say no especially knowing he involved her daughter and there's a chance he got the kid's hopes up for it to fall apart.
Park who proposes in the backyard on a picnic blanket with wine, fruit, and cake.
Reader who hushes any fears he has when she says yes.
Park who marries Reader with his daughter serving as the flower girl. Park who weeps at the altar at the sight of his soon-to-be wife and promises not only to love her but to love her child and the chance she's given him to be her father in his vows.
Park who reassures Reader's daughter when Reader finds out she's pregnant not long after they return from their honeymoon.
Park who holds Reader's daughter and rocks her reassuring her that he loves her and nothing will stop him from loving her. No one will compete with that love. Even if he's not her biological dad, she's still his baby. The new baby won't change that at all.
Park who proves it and makes sure to help Reader's daughter bond with her twin brothers.
Park whose parents never treat Reader's daughter like she's less than their biological grandchildren.
Park who occasionally likes to remind Reader that she almost didn't give him a shot...especially on late nights when they have three kids who insist they must sleep in mom and dad's bed tonight.
Reader who can't believe that Park the Shark is the love of her life...if anyone had told her years ago when she walked into the Ortho department and met a guy who was known as "Shark" that he'd one day braid her daughter's hair and cuddle two grouchy twin boys who are teething, then she'd be concerned for her that poor soul's mental health.
Park who feels his heart ache with adoration when his stepdaughter calls him "Dad". He is her dad and no one can argue with that.
Park and Reader who don't think of their family as being blended. They are just a family.
Dr. Park and Dr. Park and their three adorable kids.
Reader who presents Park with another positive pregnancy test rolling her eyes when Park insists that they should still have a couple of more...to keep the numbers even and balanced.
Pt. 10: daddy Joel but not in that way… can never seem to keep his eyes off of you.
< pt 1 | prev pt | series masterlist // main masterlist | next pt >
NSFW! 18+ only, mdni!
warnings/ content:
WC 1k - no outbreak!au, family!au, tooth-rotting fluff, age gap (reader is early-mid 30s, Joel is late 40s), husband!dad!joel x wife!mom!reader, reader and Joel have 3 kids. No explicit sexual content.
a/n: a drabble that I intended on making longer (bc I’m long-winded asf!), but decided I’m also capable of something short and sweet.
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧ ୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧
“Y’all are ridiculous” a voice draws your attention away from where it had been glued for the past few minutes.
Tommy, of course, who had been gracious enough to wait in line with you while Joel keeps the kids occupied at the table.
You don’t know who looked first, but before you knew it, those soft, brown eyes were on yours again. A gentle smirk revealing a singular dimple focused entirely on you while his hands keep Ellie occupied and giggling. Your two oldest chatting amongst themselves as they focus intently on the coloring books in front of them.
You clear your throat and step up to the counter, ordering all the favorites of your little family.
“I mean hell, nearly 15 years and y’all act like it’s somethin’ new. Not that that’s somethin’ to be ashamed of, but it’s just bewilderin’ to me.”
You turn towards Tommy after you pay and get your order ticket, your hand lifts and pats him on the back, “who knows, maybe this’ll be you and Maria, y’never know!”
He scoffs and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his hand, “well, I never said I didn’t want what y’all have, you’ve just set a high ass standard, I hope she doesn’t get scared away by it.”
You both walk back to the table, and Joel’s eyes have followed you the whole way back.
You lean down and give him a peck to his lips, knowing that’s what he’d been waiting for. That earns you the smallest, imperceptible grunt of approval as he motions towards Tommy to catch him up in the conversation.
“He’s worried we’ve set too high of standards for he and Maria,” it’s a cliff notes version, Tommy starts to object but realizes you’ve summed it up perfectly.
“In what way?” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a signal that he’s genuinely curious.
He takes the receipt and folds it into his wallet, he knows you prefer it being neatly folded rather than crumpled for when you document all expenditures. Thoughtful, in all things.
“Y’know in what way, she’s heard your story and sees how in sync y’all are and always have been, I’m just… me. Ain’t the same as you big brother.”
And well, there’s no denying that fact. But you don’t want him to doubt how much he’s changed and his intentions he’s established within this new version of himself.
“Don’t discredit the work you’ve put into yourself and your relationship,” you’re quick to defend him against himself, “Maria loves you, you love her… your story is yours, your love is yours, can’t compare it to anyone else’s.”
He nods slowly, his attention quickly diverted to Artie who was intently coloring with what he has deemed as Tommy’s favorite colors. Tommy had never said otherwise, but it meant that anytime Artie uses those colors he had to show him.
“Aw, looks great little man. Can I have it? I’d love to put that on my fridge.”
The praise from his uncle causes Artie’s eyes to gleam with pride, a wide smile plastered on his face as he accidentally bumps his little legs against the booth beneath him in excitement. He nods his head eagerly.
As Tommy’s attention returns to the two of you, he just shakes his head, “would it kill y’all to quit it for five seconds?”
“What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Usually, you’d dissuade the men from using such language around the kids, but even Ellie’s preoccupied with her stuffed animal she never leaves home without. Off in her world of imagination, occasionally using Joel’s lap, arms, or head as a walking path for her pretend adventures.
Occasionally he’ll poke her in her side to send her into another fit of giggles, and you’ll never get over how she looks at the man she’s lucky enough to have as her daddy.
“I think… well, I am gonna propose.” He says it quiet enough so as to not alert his blabbermouth of a niece, or your oldest… who’d recently become thick as thieves with Maria since they’d spent time together while you and Joel were celebrating your anniversary.
It was no secret that she couldn’t keep a secret.
Joel strategically uses this to his advantage. Knowing you’re not keen on surprises, he’ll confide in Sarah when planning something for you or the family. It was an indirect way to let you know he’s scheming something. He may not tell her every detail but he’ll tell her just enough so she runs and tells you as many details as she can remember.
It’s genius, really.
Sarah did the legwork for him, and he reaped the benefits. The important details that may make or break his schemes were fine-tuned, and he was still able to maintain some surprise for his final reveal.
For example, when he built the kids a treehouse, he also remembered you mentioning how much you wanted a shed as a shared workspace for his woodworking and your newfound interest in pottery-making.
Sometimes he’ll ask for her input, or what she thinks you’d like and then any corrections or deliberations could be ironed out with you folded in half beneath him.
It also provided the excuse of mommy and daddy needing to be alone to discuss the treehouse and cannot be interrupted! The kids took these things very seriously, knowing if they didn’t go to bed and stay in bed that the process would take much longer than they could handle.
For anything not meant to be a partial surprise, he was more than ecstatic to fill you in on every detail. But this allowed Sarah to take pride in being his little confidant, whilst also respecting your wishes to be included in big decisions.
Of course, in the re-telling by Sarah, the shed was only briefly mentioned, but it still got the point across.
“Oh my god, that’s wonderful!” You say it a little too loudly and Tommy catches that mischievous curiosity out of the corner of his eye.
Sarah knowing you have a secret is also a bad position to be in.
“That our number was just called,” you add, somehow satisfying her curiosity as you and Joel get up to retrieve the trays of food from the counter.
“Lucky timing, darlin’,” Joel’s eyes catch yours once again, that mischievous gleam… so similar to all of your kiddos, but so distinctly his… intently looking at you.
He steals a quick kiss from you before you take the food back to your suddenly ravenous kids.
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧ ୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧
Taglist as requested (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!): @white-wolf-buckaroo @streamermattsgf @somedayheaven @simpingforjoel @pascalgold
Summary: A routine ER shift takes a sharp turn when fear sends you rushing to Brendon, and he drops everything the moment he hears your voice.
A/N: Requests are welcome! This work is entirely mine and has been proofread with Grammarly.
Masterlist
No one could really blame you for panicking; it was your first time pregnant, after all.
The shift had been normal up until that point, busy, but manageable. The ED was buzzing around in its usual controlled chaos. Monitors chimed, nurses exchanged quick updates at the desk, and the faint antiseptic smell clung to everything.
It grounded you.
It was familiar.
Until it wasn’t.
It was a sudden, sharp movement that made you stop mid-step.
The strange, unfamiliar sensation had your hands flying to your stomach, fingers pressing instinctively like you could hold whatever it was in place.
Then it happened again, and stronger this time. For a moment, it felt like you forgot how to breathe.
Something was wrong.
Seriously wrong.
Your mind races through all of the worst possibilities faster than you could stop it.
You needed him.
You needed to get Brendon.
He was here- you’d seen him earlier, stepping out of the elevator, giving you that easy wink like everything was fine. It was fine.
You needed him now.
This thought alone sent you rushing down the hall, your pace uneven, one arm wrapped protectively around your stomach as you checked trauma room after trauma room. But you couldn’t seem to find him, and your panic was getting worse.
It wasn't until you reached Room One that you finally saw him, blue scrubs through the glass.
Brendon.
Dr. Park.
The doors slid open, and you hovered at the entranceway, suddenly unsure how to interrupt.
Inside was chaos.
A full trauma team moved around the bed with urgency, blood-stained gauze piling up, voices overlapping as they worked. It was intense, but it was routine for a trauma case.
Normally, you’d step in without hesitation.
Right now, you couldn’t move. You were here for one person, and it wasn’t the patient.
He didn’t see you yet, clearly too busy examining the leg resting on a bed of ice.
Robby did.
“We got it handled in here,” he started automatically, but the words died the second he really looked at you.
Your posture was rigid, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, like you were trying to hold everything together, tears sitting at your waterline, pain written all over your face.
A resident followed Robby’s gaze and stepped toward you. “Hey, are you okay—”
The movement only made you shrink back further.
Your eyes never left Brendon.
“I need Dr. Park,” you whispered.
The resident frowned, confused, turning slightly. “Dr. Park?”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Brendon snapped, not even looking up as he worked.
“Brendon…”
It was soft. Barely there.
But it cut through everything for him.
His hands stilled instantly, still holding the detached leg mid-exam, his grip steady out of pure habit, but everything else about him froze.
Then his head snapped up.
Fast.
His eyes locked onto you through the chaos, and just like that, something small shifted in his expression. The clinical focus, the distance he kept during cases, vanished, replaced by concern and fear.
“Page Garcia,” he said sharply, already moving, carefully setting the leg back down onto the ice without a second glance. “Prep for surgery, she can handle this.”
The room barely had time to react.
He was already stepping away, tearing his gloves off with a quick, practiced motion, his gaze never leaving you, as if he was making sure you were still there.
A resident blinked, completely thrown. “Wait, what the hell—?”
“Robby’s got it,” Brendon cut in, not even turning back.
It wasn’t up for discussion.
Robby jumped right in, because the look on Park the Shark's face said more than enough; only one thing ever outranked a patient on the table.
And for him, it was standing in the doorway.
His grip on your hand was firm, steady, as he pulled you down the hall, one hand braced at your back, making you stayed with him.
“Brendon-” your voice broke, panic still spilling over, your steps uneven as you tried to keep up.
“I got you, sweetheart,”
He brings you into the nearest empty room, guiding you inside before the door swings shut behind you, cutting off the chaos of the ED in one swift motion.
The quiet hit instantly.
It was too quiet with your racing thoughts.
Your breathing, that seemed to settle when you first saw him, picked up again, your grip tightening on his scrubs as the panic rushed back in.
“Hey-hey,” Brendon said, cupping your face gently. “Look at me.”
You shook your head, overwhelmed. “Something’s wrong. I felt something, Brendon, I swear, it didn't feel right-”
“Hey.” His voice dropped, stricter now. “Eyes on me.”
It took you a moment before you fully looked at him, your breathing now starting to slow down. The tension in your chest was starting to ease.
“Tell me,” he said gently. “What happened?”
You swallowed hard. “I was just walking to a patient, and I felt this sharp movement, and then it happened again, and I just–” your voice wavered, “-panicked. I thought that something might be wrong with the baby.”
The stone-cold Shark assessed you like prey: reading, calculating, missing nothing.
And then something in him gave.
A small, almost fond smile tugged at his lip.
“Sweetheart…” he said quietly, one hand sliding down to rest over yours where it was still pressed to your stomach. He stilled for a second, feeling it. “That’s the baby.”
You blinked, still catching your breath. “What?”
“That’s the baby kicking,” he said gently, warmth settling into his voice. “First time, it can feel a little intense.”
You stared at him, trying to process the information when it happened again.
Your body tensed, breath skipping, but Brendon just let out a laugh, his hand pressing more securely over yours.
“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes flicking down briefly before meeting yours again. “That.”
“That’s… the baby?” you asked softly.
“Yeah,” he nodded, voice warm and steady. “That’s our baby.”
The words settled differently this time.
Our baby.
Your grip on him changed, not desperate, just holding on.
A shaky laugh slipped out of you. And you leaned forward, your forehead resting against his chest as refleaf flooded you.
“I just thought... something was really wrong,” you admitted quietly.
“I know,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you close. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
His hand moved gently over your stomach again, slower now, like he was feeling it with you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a second, your fingers curling slightly into his shirt. “I pulled you out of a trauma-”
“Hey,” he cut in softly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to tilt your chin toward him. “Don’t.”
Your eyes met his.
“I’d rather you come get me a hundred times over nothing,” he said quietly, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, “than stay out there when something might be wrong.”
His expression softened even more.
“I need to know you’re okay,” he added, gentler now. “Both of you.”
Your breath caught slightly at that.
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment.
“Always come get me,” he murmured.
For a second, you just stayed there, tucked into him, arms loosely around his waist, letting yourself settle, letting the last of the panic melt away in his warmth.
Then, quieter now, almost thoughtful, you said, “You know… You still have time to make it up to surgery.”
He pulled back slightly, brows lifting just a bit. “You sure?”
You nodded, a small smile finally forming. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Another small movement hit, and this time you didn’t flinch, just glanced down briefly before looking back up at him.
“Go,” you added, softer but teasing now. “Go save a leg.”
That earned a quiet huff of a laugh from him.
“Yeah?” he said, studying you for one more second, like he was making absolutely sure.
“Yeah,” you reassured, nudging him lightly. “Go kick some ass, Dr. Park.”
He smirked at that, something warm and proud in it.
“Well,” he said, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to your forehead, “at least we know where the baby gets it from.”
You let out a soft laugh as he stepped back, already shifting back into surgeon mode.
And as he reached the door, he glanced back at you once more.
Just to be sure.
You smiled at him, resting your hand over your stomach, feeling the soft movement again, but this time with nothing but quiet awe.
cw: ooc!Park?, pregnant!reader, morning sickness mentioned, weight gain discussed
“Has the dryer been giving you issues?” Brendon asks as he makes his way down the hallway to the kitchen where you’re making breakfast.
“No,” you reply as you add the golden pancake to the pile, “why? Do you have holes in your clothes? Are the clothes coming out damp? I’ve told you that sometimes the linens need more time to dry all the way.”
“It’s not that,” he grumbles as he piles up a short stack of pancakes onto his plate, smothers them in butter and drowns them in syrup. He cuts into the stack and shoves a forkful into his mouth, speaking with a full mouth, “my clothes are shrinking.”
"They're shrinking?" You ask after blinking away your shock.
He nods, gulping down a cup of orange juice in one go. He pours himself another glass and goes in on the pancakes again, "they're fitting my tighter than they were a few weeks ago."
You hum thoughtfully as you build your plate. A few weeks ago even the thought of all this food would have sent you sprinting to the bathroom, but now, safely into your second trimester, you can safely fulfill all your cravings. You'd woken up this morning craving crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes and couldn't get out of bed fast enough.
Last week you were craving cereal at three in the morning and Brendon walked into the kitchen after an on call shift to catch you eating it from one of your serving bowls. A few days later you both went grocery shopping and came home with three different frozen pies. And since your morning sickness had subsided, you'd snacked on various fruits and vegetables covered in chili powder.
You take a bite of bacon and eye your husband, "I haven't had any issues with any of my clothes shrinking. Is it just one piece or?"
"All my clothes," Brendon shakes his head as he places his now clean plate into the sink. He starts in on the plate of bacon, chomping away on one piece and then another before adding, "scrubs are getting tight. I can't even tie them anymore."
You watch on with amazement as he casually puts away half the pack of bacon in one go. That bacon was supposed to last a few days!
You think on it as you cut into your breakfast. A few weeks ago his clothes started getting smaller. What else was going on a few weeks ago? He'd had a few call-ins, you had a scan, your morning sickness stopped when you got into your second trimester, and— before then you couldn't even be around strongly scented food. Brendon ate most of his meals alone and they were his usual meal prepped and measured meals. Ever since the nausea had passed, you hadn't shied away from your cravings and your husband hadn't either.
You wanted steak? Well, Brendon would get one too. Those pies? You weren't going to eat alone! His mother taught him better than that! You told him you wanted ice cream, but he would be the once to suggest ice cream sandwiches between two home made cookies.
You giggle as the realization hits you, "honey, maybe it's not your clothes that are shrinking..."
"What does that mean?" He asks with furrowed brows, wiggling his fingers over the bowl of fruit.
You set your fork down, "I think you're gaining sympathy weight."
His jaw drops, looking at you with a mix of shock and betrayal. You hold up your hands defensively, "honey, it's not a bad thing. Just think about it, okay? When I snack, you do too. You never let me eat alone now that I can keep food down and I can't even remember the last time I saw one of your meal prep containers in the fridge."
His lips pout adorably, "I'm still going to the gym when I can... but it is much less often since you've been pregnant."
"And I really, really appreciate you being home with me more."
"Is it noticeable?" He asks.
You fit him with a deadpan expression and point down to your bump, "I've been more focused on growing our kid, honey. No, I haven't noticed and even if I had, I wouldn't love you any less. You're still the most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on."
He smirks as he brace his arms on the counter, "yeah? You like dad bods?"
You roll your eyes with amusement as you refocus on your food, "chill, I'm already pregnant, B."
feedback is appreciated! divider from cursed-carmine <3
Summary: A casual lunch accidentally reveals a secret you never mentioned. You're married to Dr. Park, leaving your coworkers completely shocked.
A/N: Requests are welcome! This work is entirely mine and has been proofread with Grammarly.
Masterlist
Lunch breaks in the emergency department were practically non-existent. Between the hustle and bustle of trauma and patients cycling in and out, it was hard to find a moment to breathe, let alone to eat.
Today was a rare day.
Robby had practically ushered the four of you out of the ED the moment things settled down, arms crossed like a proactive dad who ensures his children eat their supper. He promised to page if a rush happened or if the med students screwed something up.
It wasn’t slow, but it was the closest thing the ED would ever see.
You sat down at a small table in the corner of the cafeteria with Santos, Whitaker, and Javadi, finally excited to eat.
The second the food hit the table, the conversation that was once flowing slowly turned into a debate.
“This is insane,” Whitaker said, staring at his receipt like it had offended him. “Why is a sandwich seven dollars? In a hospital, of all places.”
Javadi leaned over to look. “It’s literally bread and ham. That’s it.”
“Don’t forget disappointment,” Santos added, already halfway through hers like she had accepted defeat.
Whitaker huffed, leaning back in his chair. “How are residents supposed to survive on this? My salary barely covers my loans.”
“They expect you to run on spite and caffeine,” you said calmly, taking a bite of your sandwich.
Whitaker leaned back in the plastic chair. “And don’t even get me started on families. People sitting here stressed and grieving, trying to eat, and it costs this much?”
Javadi scoffed lightly. “Sorry, your father has heart failure, but would you like to buy a six-dollar coffee to cope?”
“Hospital capitalism is its own disease,” Santos muttered.
A round of tired agreement followed, chairs creaking, and wrappers crinkling as the exhaustion lingered over the table.
Santos turned to you. “Okay, but you're weirdly calm about this. Don’t you care about our wallets?”
Three pairs of eyes landed on you at once.
You blinked, then shrugged slightly. “I don’t really think about it.”
Whitaker frowned. “How do you not think about it?”
You took another bite, unbothered. “I just charged it to my husband’s account.”
There was silence.
You couldn’t tell whose jaw dropped first, Santos or Javadi's, but for two people who never stopped talking, they went completely quiet.
Whitaker looked between the two, trying to process exactly what you had just said. “Did she just–”
At the same time, Santos blurted, “You're what?”
“My husband’s account,” you repeated casually. You hadn’t paid for your lunch since you started working here.
Javadi blinked. “You have a husband?”
“Yeah,”
Whitaker slowly sat forward in his chair, as if the world had shifted slightly. “Since when?”
“A couple of years now.”
Santos was still in a state of shock. “We work with you every day.”
“I know,”
“And you never mentioned a husband?”
You tilted your head. “You guys have also never asked.”
Whitaker let out a short laugh. “You don’t even wear a ring.”
You lifted your hand briefly. “Work hazard.”
Javadi leaned in now, curiosity fully activated. “So your husband just pays for everything?”
“Well, no,” you corrected. “I just forget my card sometimes, so it’s easier. He’ll handle it.”
Santos slowly leaned back in her chair, processing. “Okay. I need context.”
You hesitated just a fraction too long, and that was enough.
Santos narrowed her eyes. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me it’s someone here.”
“No freaking way,” Whitaker shook his head. “We would totally know if it was someone here.”
Javadi frowned slightly. “Would we though?”
Whitaker opened his mouth, then paused, glancing around the cafeteria like he was suddenly reconsidering the entire staff list. “I mean… There are tons of doctors who work here.”
“Exactly,” Javadi said. “Half of them barely come down to the ED. We wouldn’t know.”
Santos, however, didn’t look convinced.
She was staring at you now, like really staring, as if she was trying to piece something together in her mind. “Oh no”
You tried very hard to keep your expression straight, but you couldn't help but the small smirk that crept on your face.
Santos leaned forward, pointing her fork at you. “Oh, we definitely know him.”
Whitaker blinked. “What?”
“I’ve seen that face before,” she continued, gesturing vaguely at you. “That little—” she squinted, mimicking it poorly, “smirk you do when you’re hiding something.”
Javadi’s eyes widened. “She’s right.”
Santos didn't take her eyes off you. “Who is it?”
You hesitated, glancing between the three of them, already knowing exactly how this was about to go. It’s not like you haven't heard them complain about him before.
“...Promise you won’t hate me?”
Javadi leaned in. “Please don’t say, Robby.”
Santos made a face. “Oh my god, if it’s Robby, I’m transferring.”
You snorted. “It’s not Robby.”
Whitaker let out a breath. “Okay, good.”
Santos waved her fork at you. “Alright, then who is it?”
You exhaled, already bracing for impact. You looked between them.
“...Brendon Park.”
The table went silent.
Whitaker froze. “No.”
Javadi blinked. “Oh, my god.”
Santos didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. “You’re married to Dr. Park.”
You nodded.
Whitaker ran a hand over his face. “The ortho surgeon who hates everyone?”
“Not everyone,” you teased.
They all stared at you.
“He’s not like that all the time. That’s just work.”
Santos blinked. “A work thing?”
You nodded. “He’s like an ortho god here. At home, he's just Brendon.”
Whitaker shook his head. “That man barely tolerates people.”
You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, well. He tolerates me.”
There was a moment where you searched for the right words, something that might help them understand. They only knew one side of him. You knew both. Normally, you didn’t feel the need to explain it, but here it felt necessary.
“‘Park the Shark’ is for here,” you said lightly. “That’s him in the OR, in the hospital, doing all that intense surgical work.”
Santos snorted. “Park the Shark is insane, by the way.”
You smiled. “Well, yeah, he got his name somehow.”
Whitaker leaned forward slightly. “And at home?”
You shrugged, but your voice softened just a little.
“He’s just Brendon,” you said, “He’s normal. He lives on coffee and reality television and steals my food even when he is not hungry. He’s there for anything that I need.”
Javadi tilted her head. “That sounds like a different person.”
“It’s not,” you said simply. “I just get the better version.”
Santos studied you for a second. “So you’re telling me Dr. ‘I intimidate half the hospital’ Park is just completely different at home.”
You shrugged again, but there was a small, fond smile you couldn’t quite hide.
Whitaker was staring at you like he was trying to rewrite everything he thought he knew.
Javadi’s brows were slightly furrowed, like she was mentally replaying every interaction she’d ever had with him.
Santos just leaned back, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t believe you.”
You only smiled.
Before anyone could say anything else—
All of your pagers went off.
The moment shattered.
Whitaker groaned, already pushing his chair back. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Break’s over,” Javadi muttered, grabbing her things.
The ED had settled back into its usual rhythm of controlled chaos.
Lunch break seemed far behind in your mind as you went from treatment room to treatment room.
You were at the nurses' station, finishing up a chart while Santos, Whitaker, and Javai lingered nearby, pretending to be busy while the conversation from lunch was still very much alive in the air.
Santos was mid-sentence when she suddenly stopped.
Her eyes shifted past you.
“..Oh?”
Whitaker frowned. “What?”
Javadi followed her line of sight in the elevator and immediately went quiet.
You didn't even look up; their reaction had said it all.
Brendon Park walked in like he owned the place, his cold and controlled composure completely unaffected by the noise around him.
He stepped up to the station. “Room?” he asked.
One of the nurses answered, pointing down the hall to one of the trauma rooms.
He gave a short nod and continued without another glance.
Whitaker leaned in slightly. “Yeah… she’s really married to that guy.”
Santos shook her head. “Still don’t get why.”
You just kept typing.
The hallway was less chaotic than the rest of the ED.
Still, staff were walking through, and patients were waiting on beds, but it settled enough that you could relax momentarily.
You leaned back against the wall, chart in hand, exhaling slowly.
A door opened.
Brendon stepped out, already pulling off his gloves, attention still half on the patient he’d just seen.
He was focused. Clearly thinking ahead of the upcoming surgery, he was about to perform.
He started walking, but when he noticed you, he slowed his pace until he was next to you.
You pushed off the wall, a smile already forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw three heads pop up.
“Hey.”
Everything about his demeanour shifted.
“Hey,” he said, lighter, just for you.
He stepped closer, close enough that your hands brushed.
“You okay?” he asked, scanning your face.
You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that didn’t fully convince him.
“Just a long shift.”
His gaze lingered, reading you like a chart.
“Did you eat?”
You huffed. “Yes.”
He didn’t believe you.
You rolled your eyes a little, reaching up without thinking to fix the collar of his scrub top as it had folded in on itself. “I had a sandwich."
His brows lifted slightly.
“I promise,” you added.
Brendon held out his pinky.
“Are you serious?” You couldn't get over the ridiculousness of your husband wanting to pinky promise over a sandwich.
You laughed under your breath, hooking your finger with his. “My friends are watching.”
He leaned in just slightly, voice low.
“Oh, I know,” he murmured. “I can feel them staring.”
And sure enough, when you turned three heads, you immediately ducked out of sight down the hall.
hey, i don't know if you do request, but what about brendon Park x wife!medical malpractice attorney? and they have a kid together who needs urgent medical attention for a sprained ankle, aaaand she is just as intimidating as park. u can feel the pressure and tension in that room for both having the shark and a well recognized medical malpractice attorney
okay I did peds reader bc they’re almost the same??? lol
brendon park x peds wife!reader
SHALLOW WATERS
"what've we got?" robby asked as the paramedics wheeled in.
"11 year old male, bp 119/73, HR 111, RR 20. apparently he took a fall; reporting pain to the left ankle." the EMT leaned in closer. talking in his ear. "neighbors called it in."
the attendings eyebrows drew in. “parents?" the medic tipped his head toward the kid discreetly. "he said his parents were at work— didn't say where. but he was adamant about coming here.”
robby glanced at the boy then back to the EMT. almost as if needing clarification. “we were closer to Presby.”
it wasn’t new to have patients rerouted. but it wasn’t something they’d ask for. especially by someone this kid's age. if his condition was worse, they would’ve taken him to Presby. no hesitation.
“his name?”
“Henry— didn’t get the last. we were trying to get his heart rate down, his adrenaline was high.“ the medic explained. “besides his request to come here, he didn’t talk much after that. I assumed he was still in shock from the pain.”
“and the neighbors didn’t say anything else? where his parents are or where they work?” robby needed something. the medic shook his head. “not to me.” his head turning over to his partner. “Pzsonyi— did the couple tell you anything about the parents?”
“said they were doctors.”
and he was adamant about coming here.
“that should narrow it down. not like we have a hospital full of those—” robby said sarcastically. “we got it from here.”
robby turned and walked towards where the nurses were. the blonde already fixed on him as he approached.
“you good?” dana asked as she watched over the rim of her glasses.
Robby’s hands went behind his neck as he blew out a breath. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
he then looked over his shoulder where the boy was across the floor of the department. “the 11 year old patient that just came in” his head gestured back. Dana’s eyes following. “would you be able to work your magic and get his emergency contacts? came in without anyone. according to the EMT, his parents work here.”
the charge nurse's eyes pinched a bit.
"they work here?"
Robby shrugged. “I’m not for sure,” Dana gave him a look, rolling her eyes.
“one of the medics said his parents were doctors and the other told me the boy was insistent on coming here. It’s a long shot but I could only assume.” robby scratched his beard. Dana gave him a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”
His hands clapped together, grasping one another as he gave her a tight lipped smile. A silent thank you before he turned to leave. heading over to where Henry was.
Jesse was with him. A smile on the boy's face despite his damp cheeks.
“Henry, right?” robby started as he grabbed some gloves. blue eyes stared back at him, then a nod. a quiet ‘yes sir’ given.
it was a small movement. the corner of Robby’s mouth lifted up.
Respectful.
his attention turned to Jesse. “500 mg of acetaminophen, 350mg of ibuprofen. and let’s get him in for xrays.” Jesse nodded as he gets the meds ready.
“We’re gonna get a hold of your mom and dad, Henry– let them know you’re here.” robby circled back to the patient. The attending watching. The boy’s lips parting before licking the bottom. almost as if it was on the tip of his tongue and he decided against it. “Okay.”
“I hear they’re doctors here, any chance I might–”
“Robinavitch.” Dana peeked in. Robby glanced up. The charge nurse's head tipped the other way. “a word.”
Robby gave Henry’s shoulder squeeze. “I’ll be right back, in the mean time, Jesse here,” hand motioning to the tall male nurse, “aaaand” Robby’s head swiveled. eyes catching two of his students.
Student and first year resident.
“Whitaker. Ogilvie.”
the two turned when they heard their names. Robby signaling them over.
“Dr. Whitaker and Dr. Ogilvie,”
“Student Doctor.” James interrupted with a finger up. Robby paused and nodded. “Right– are going to assist.”
“Dr. Robby, we don’t–” whitaker’s words fell short as the older man delivered a shoulder pat. “You got this.” gloves snapped off as he sailed out. The blonde was standing in the hall with pressed lips, tablet held to her chest, and an amused glint in her eyes.
“Did you work your magic?”
A smile stretched across Dana’s face. “I feel like you’re gonna regret asking me.” she laughed. “I did— and you’re never gonna guess who mom and dad are.”
Robby eyed her. “Who?”
Dana flickered her sight a few feet away to where the boys were. her finger pointing to the younger one who sat on the hospital bed.
“you’ve got a baby shark in there.”
Robby blinked. then let out a laugh.
not a nervous one and not an amused one. It was one someone gave when they were just given information they couldn't fathom. Or really, didn’t like. Almost like not wanting to hear what they were just told even if they asked for it and now they were suffering the consequences.
that kind of laugh.
“of course they are.” hands rubbing his eyes as he fell back onto the heels of his feet. “Are we sure?” he squinted as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Dana grinned. “Oh, I’m sure.”
“Did you already let them know?” robby asked.
“And what? risk the chance of there being blood in the water because I waited to tell them that their son was down here. What are you fucking kidding me? Of course I told them.” the charge nurse gave him a wide look as if not believing he really just asked a stupid question.
He was a man afterall.
Robby blew out a breath. “Fuck– okay. When are they–” his question answered when you guys approach.
“Park.”
It was rare to see you both down here at the same time. Not that it never happened, it was just unexpected. The interns said it felt wrong. like seeing a shark itself in the shallow waters.
You hadn’t even acknowledged robby; passing right by. Brendon barely sparing a nod.
“Better not have anyone incompetent with my son.”
Henry looked up when he heard his dad. A wide smile stretching when he saw his mom.
Your persona was washed off. Not at all caring that you were completely exposed. Out in the open. Your hand caressing his cheek, his smaller one on top.
“Are you okay?” a quiet ask. eyes watching him as he nods. “I’m okay.”
A satisfied smile before you press a kiss to his forehead. Squeezing his cheeks in your grasp.
Whitaker and Ogilvie just stared. One not wanting to interrupt and probably too scared to do so, while the other stood with wide eyes. His mouth parted like a fish out of water.
Brendon pressed another kiss to the other side of his head. before his eyes lift to his boy's foot. an ice pack resting on his ankle.
“is he on meds?” Brendon asked as he leaned up. his hand brushing against his son’s hair before pulling gloves out of his scrub pocket. snapping them on.
“500 mg of acetaminophen– 350mg of ibuprofen.” Robby clarified. arms crossed as he nodded.
“iced the area to—” “I’m not blind.”
Whitaker closed his mouth.
“dad.” brendons eyes caught his sons. the boy giving him an unimpressed look that you knew he inherited from the man in front of him. “don’t interrupt.”
your suppress a smile. his words sounded familiar.
brendon cleared his throat. “finish.” gaze on the r1 for a split second before he diverts it.
Whitaker looks to robby, then looks to you then the young boy. he knows now how Ogilvie felt. only this time it was a little more reassuring knowing the kid had his back. he didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.
“We uh— just iced to reduce the swelling, elevation above heart level. bp now, 105/61, HR 89, 99 on room….” his eyes finding Henry’s. the youngest park giving him a thumbs up.
“xray?” you asked from the side. "dr. robby already had them in order.” whitaker verbalised.
“we’re still waiting to get him in.” the attending intervened quietly. you slowly peeled yourself away from your son. "I'll be back— make sure dad doesn't kill anyone." you joke drily as you leave.
it earns a giggle from the kid.
Ogilvie, who had been surprisingly quiet, turns to where you just left. eyes wide as his head spins. “was she being serious—”
"It was just one time." Henry shrugs.
"One?” Whitaker and Ogilvie echo. Robby’s lips pursing as he watches in amusement. head shaking at how easy it was to reel them in.
