post-op promises | connor bedard
Pairing: connor bedard x reader!gf
Prompt: wisdom teeth removal isn’t so bad, not when you’ve got your boyfriend by your side… even when you don’t fully know what you’re saying to him
Warnings: wisdom teeth removal (no in depth medical descriptions)!
requested!
“Can we just go get ice cream instead?” You beg, not looking at your boyfriend as you ask. Your eyes stay glued to the entrance of the building. Connor chuckles softly next to you as he takes your shaking hand into his steady one.
“I promise we can get ice cream when you’re feeling better.” He says, his eyes trained on your face.
“I don’t want to go in.” You whisper, and the nervousness in your voice makes Connor’s heart crack a bit.
“Then we sit here for a few more minutes, but I promise I’ll be there for you the entire time.”
That’s the thing about Connor, he never pushes too hard. He lets you express how terrified you are about a medical procedure, but stands strong enough to know how you pull you out of it.
The waiting room is blue, very blue. Blue walls, blue carpeting, blue cushions on the chairs, ocean paintings and one of a sailboat with…. surprise… a blue sail. You clutch the blue pen in your hand, your writing shaky as you fill out forms.
“Let me, baby.” Connor says lightly, noting how jagged your writing has become.
“Everything is blue.” You whisper, not even noticing as Connor fills out your information because he knows all of it without having to ask.
“Blue is calming.” Connor tries to reason.
“It’s making me want to puke.” You say, and his hand stops writing as his gaze snaps to you. Before he can say anything your name rings out in the waiting room.
“Con.” You say, as you take in the smiling nurse at the door.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m with you, and everything is going to go great. You’re safe.” He says as he stands with you, but the comfort leaves as the nurse says the thing you’ve been dreading.
“Oh, I’m sorry sir, you can wait here for now. We’ll bring you back once she’s all done.”
Connor only nods, no panic, no tension. The cool confidence he gets on the ice settling over his features. And it calms you only a bit to see that he’s not worried.
“You’ll be okay.” He says finally.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
—
The time drags as Connor sits in the insanely blue waiting room. He lets his eyes close as he remembers how you looked as you walked through the doors with the nurse. He knows how much you hate medical stuff, knows how bad you’ve been worrying about this.
His phone buzzing breaks him out of his thoughts, and he reads the texts from Frank Nazar.
Frank: Chicken noodle or tomato?
Connor: Chicken noodle, but the low sodium one. She’ll complain if it’s too salty
Frank: Aye aye cap. What else?
Connor: yogurt, but only peach flavored. Pudding, applesauce, maybe bananas?
Frank: Sounds good….
Frank: Dad
Connor: Shut up
Connor shakes his head, grinning down at his phone until now it was his name being said in the waiting room. His head snaps up as the same nurse stands in front of the open door. He sits up quickly, his phone and conversation with Frank long forgotten.
“That’s me.” He says, walking towards the woman, anxious to get back to you.
“She did great.” She says with a soft smile. “She’s a little tired, but very sweet.”
Connor raises his eyebrows, not that he was questioning two things he knows very well about, but he wasn’t exactly expecting that out of the nurse.
“Yeah, that sounds like her.” He says with a smile as he starts to follow the nurse down the long hallway, and he stops in his tracks as he finally sees you.
You’re sitting in the chair, the sleeves of his hoodie you insisted on wearing pulled over your hands, your eyes hooded and groggy. Your face looks a bit puffy, but very tired, and in that moment Connor has never wanted to take care of you more in his life.
Your eyes widen a bit as Connor stands in front of you, hat backwards on his head, a plain navy sweatshirt, black shorts that hug thick thigh muscles.
“Hey baby.” You hear him say, and before you can question him, before you can even process the words, the tone of his voice, the sound of it, you know then that you’re safe. Your heart slows into a steady rhythm, and you feel the need to bask in his gaze. But the daze of the drugs cloud your judgement.
“Don’t call me that.” You mumble as you look at him. Now, somewhere deep inside you, you know this is Connor. This is your boyfriend who bends over backwards for you and says it’s the minimum of what you deserve. And as every second passes it becomes clearer to you that it’s him, but there’s something about the fog that’s gripping your mind. Something about it that’s not letting you fully believe he’s here.
“No?” Connor asks, coming to stand next to you. “How come?”
“No. I have a boyfriend.”
The nurse turns her back, and you miss it, but Connor doesn’t miss how her shoulders shake ever so slightly. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at you as he answers back.
“You do?”
“Mhm.” You nod very seriously, almost offended that he wouldn’t know that.
“What’s his name?” Connor asks, sitting down in the chair the nurse nodded her head towards.
“Connor.” You say, like the question is the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. “He’s perfect. He buys me flowers every Sunday, and he knows that I like M&M’s in my popcorn. He says he doesn’t put extra in but I know he does. Plus he’s very pretty. I don’t think he realizes it, but I think my heart stops whenever he looks at me like-“ you stop talking, your eyes widening a bit.
“Looks at you like what?”
“Like that.” You say, pointing directly at Connor’s face, like the man next to you isn’t your boyfriend. “He looks at me like that, how did you do that?” You ask him.
“I happen to know him pretty well.” The Connor look a like says to you.
“You can’t tell him I said that.” You say, reaching out for his hand. “It’s a secret.”
“What is?” He asks, and you roll your eyes at how this Connor look a like isn’t seeing the bigger picture.
“You can’t tell him how much I love him.” You whisper, reaching with your other hand to press a finger to your lips.
“Okay.” He whispers, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. “I won’t tell Connor.”
You hum and nod, like that is the best news you’ve heard all day, but you watch him as the nurse starts going over post surgery procedures. He nods, asking questions and flipping through a packet. The Connor look a like is starting to become less suspicious to you.
When it’s time to leave Connor helps you stand, letting you lean fully into him as you both slowly make your way to the car. You giggle as you sway, and his arm is firm on your side so you don’t go tumbling down.
“Connor?” You ask finally as you’re in the car, Connor reaching over to buckle you into the front seat, and in all honesty you don’t remember ever getting to the car.
“Yeah baby?” He asks, stopping and waiting for you to say whatever it is.
“You’re my Connor?” You ask, your fingers going up to brush at his face. You feel his slightly warm skin, then they trace a scar.
“I’m your Connor.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Good. I hope he knows I love him.”
“He knows.”
“I wanna marry him.” You admit, and Connor has to pretend like the admission doesn’t knock the air out of his lungs. “I want to wear a white dress, and I want to tell everyone about him. I want to have kids someday too. I think he’d be the best dad.” Your words are spewing out at his point, and as Connor gets settled into the drivers seat he has to act, once again, like you haven’t completely destroyed him in the best possible way. “But you can’t tell him.” You say again, your droopy eyes meeting his.
Connor wants to play along, knows he probably should because you’re in no state of mind for anything serious. But he can’t, not after that. “It might be a little hard not telling him.” He starts to say as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Considering I am Connor.”
You freeze then, eyes going wide as you watch him. But they take in everything familiar, everything around you that confirms that statement.
“Well,” you say giggling slightly. “I guess the cats out of the bag.” Connor laughs so hard he has to tighten both hands on the wheel, and you look very proud for someone who has gauze in her mouth and no idea what day it is.
“Yeah,” he says, still laughing softly. “I guess it is.”
—
By the time he pulls into the apartment parking garage, you’re half asleep. Connor comes around to your side, opens the door, and crouches a bit in front of you.
“Hey, baby. We’re home.” He whispers, trying to be as soft as he can to wake you. Your eyes open halfway.
“Home?”
“Yeah. Come on.” He says, reaching over you to unbuckle your seatbelt.
Getting you upstairs is a careful operation. You insist on walking because you refuse to let the fake Connor carry you. So, Connor keeps one arm around your waist and one hand holding yours, guiding you slowly. You lean into him heavily, occasionally stopping for no reason, and occasionally to ask a question.
Like when you had to pause in the hallway and whisper, “Are my teeth gone?”
Connor nods with pure honesty. “Some.”
“All of them?” You question, looking horrified.
“Just the ones with wisdom.” Connor says, biting his lip to keep from laughing at his own joke, and that seems to be enough that you calm down again. When you finally make it to your door Connor opens it, letting you in first as he steps in directly behind you. The place smells warm, it smells like your home.
“There she is.” A familiar voice says as you turn your head that direction. You see a man you swear you know, the dark hair and cheesy smile so familiar to you. And Connor barely has time to adjust before you’re moving towards the man standing in your kitchen. “How are you feeling?” He asks as you stand in front of him.
“I have a secret to tell you.” You say, stumbling a bit but both Connor and Frank catch you before you could go anywhere. Connor lets go, knowing his best friend has you. He smirks a bit as Frank’s eyes flick to his from over your shoulder.
“A secret?” Frank asks you, like he’s absolutely appalled.
You nod, and before anyone can question you it comes out yet again. “I want to marry Connor.”
You think you’re whispering, you truly do. Frank’s mouth twitches at your confession. His eyes continually moving between yours and Connor’s.
“Oh yeah?” Frank questions you, and you stick your fingers over your lips as if to say shh. Frank brings his fingers to his own lips, and acts like he’s zipping them shut.
“He’s so pretty.” You say again, and from behind you Connor clears his throat, which is a sad attempt of trying to mask the laugh that was bubbling up. The sound catches your attention, and you look shocked as you take in Connor.
“How long have you been standing there?” You ask him, your body moving to try to get to him. Frank steadies you as Connor gets to you and secures you into him.
“I’ve been here the whole time baby.” He says, and you blink, slowly turning your gaze backwards to Frank’s.
“Betrayal.” You whisper to him, and Connor leads you over to the couch so you do not see how tight Frank is pressing his lips together.
The living room has been completely transformed. Your favorite blanket is on the couch. Your pillow is propped up exactly the way you like it. There’s a water bottle on the side table, tissues, medication instructions, but it’s the familiar Blackhawks sweatshirt in the corner that gets you the most. Your favorite sweatshirt. You stare at all of it as you sink into the couch, emotional and sleepy and trying very hard to stay upright.
“Thank you, Frank.” You whisper.
Frank’s face softens.
“Anytime.” He says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’m gonna head out. Call me if you need anything.”
And before anyone could respond a sound comes from you, you who’s half lying on the couch, cheeks puffy, eyes barely open, one hand patting around the cushion like you’re searching for him even though he’s only a few feet away. Frank looks at Connor for a second longer, then smiles knowingly. Connor shoves him lightly toward the door.
“Get out.” Connor says, and Frank laughs as he waves and leaves the apartment. Connor locks up, then comes back into the living room and grabs the remote.
“Movie?” He asks and you nod immediately. He doesn’t ask which one, he doesn’t need to. The second the movie starts playing, you make a pleased little sound and pat the couch beside you harder this time.
“You want me there?” Connor asks with a smile, and you answer with another pat, this one even more insistently. “Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he sits beside you carefully, not too fast, not jostling you. You immediately shift toward him, and Connor adjusts, lifting his arm so you can tuck yourself against his side.
The hoodie you stole from him this morning has gotten bunched around your neck, trapping some of your hair awkwardly underneath the fabric. Connor notices before you can even reach for it.
“Hold on baby,” he murmurs. His fingers are gentle as he pulls your hair free from the hoodie neckline. Then he combs his hand through it slowly, smoothing it down over your shoulder.
“That feels nice.” You murmur, your speech still slightly slurred as your eyes close.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You answer, and Connor keeps doing it. Soft passes of his fingers through your hair, careful and steady. The movie plays quietly in front of you, but he isn’t really watching it. He’s watching you, the way your face finally relaxes, the way your breathing slows. The way you trust him enough to fall apart and to let him hold you while you’re not fully yourself.
You sigh, sinking deeper against him, and Connor tucks the blanket around your lap. For a few minutes, you’re quiet. Then your hand moves slowly until it finds his sweatshirt. You grip it weakly.
“Connor?” His heart squeezes at the way you say his name.
“Yeah, baby?”
Your eyes stay closed as you say, “I’m so very in love with you.” The words are barely there, coming out sleepy and muffled. But they hit him straight in the chest as Connor leans down and kisses the top of your head.
“I’m so very in love with you too, baby.”
A few seconds later, your body goes limp against his, fully asleep. The movie keeps playing as Connor’s phone buzzes on the arm of the couch. He glances down carefully, trying not to move you.
Frank: Bedsy.
Connor: She was loopy
Frank: She’s in love. It just came out when she was loopy Frank: Also, I know there’s a ring in your apartment
Connor: You aren’t supposed to bring that up
Frank: She literally told me she wants to marry you while you stood ten feet away smirking like a fucking idiot.
Connor looks back down at you. Your face is calm for the first time all day, your hair slightly messy, but he runs his fingers through it gently as he responds.
Connor: While she was loopy
Frank: She just told a man she thought was NOT Connor that she wants to marry Connor
Frank: Then found out he WAS Connor and basically said “oops, secret’s out.” What more do you need man?
Connor hesitates before typing back, a smile large on his face.
Connor: You’re annoying
He lets a second go by until he types a second text.
Connor: Start practicing your speech
