Dr Brendon Park x Attending!Wife!Reader, The Pitt x Reader
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Everyone swore that you and PTMC's Shark were sworn enemies. As you shoot him biting quips and retorts each time your paths crossed. You were one of the most kindhearted and considerate attending they worked alongside...so what was it about Park that elicited such feisty remarks?
It might have something to do with the ring that's tucked beneath your scrubs around a chain upon your neck.
Turns out Park isn't quite the lone Shark everyone assumed him to be.
Notes: some strong language, misconceptions, tooth rotting fluff and softness, some pregnancy mentions, Shark being so down bad for you even as you insult him in the middle of a trauma consult 💗shark tale references
Word Count: ~2.4k
It was a known fact in the Pitt that the infamous Dr Brendon Park.
Was notorious for being intimidating.
Piercing eyes, a sharpness to his movements, biting words.
Blunt and lacking any softness.
Teeth bared.
Living up to his namesake.
The Shark of PTMC.
If ever there was a time he was called down.
Med students and interns alike would scatter. Escaping the wrath of his path if it were possible.
Only for some poor student to be on the receiving end of the Shark’s pointed look. As he asked with a harshness that honestly should be reviewed by HR…
But he was the best of the best.
No one could deny that.
Even if his social skills could use a little softening.
Not that anyone would tell that to his face. In fear he would simply bite back, “Do you want me to save lives or do you want me to make tea and bake a cake for you? Cause I don’t have time for both”
The only other person to ever be on par with him.
Was you.
The attending that was kind to everyone who worked with you.
You, who was fair tempered. Humorous and light hearted. Direct when necessary.
You were an aspiration to all the med students and interns that passed through the Pitt.
You had a tenderness to your approach.
One they assumed had been garnered from your years being a mother to three.
A fact that you loved to talk about when time allowed. Speaking sweetly about your three little sweethearts.
There were your two girls, Frankie and Finn. Your two fraternal twin girls who were polar opposites to each other. Acting like day and night.
Where one was sunshine incarnate, as the other was pensive as the glistening moonlight.
But they tried their best to mimic one another despite not being identical.
They were witty and intensely curious in their own way. Bright eyed and in your opinion behaved a lot like their father, opinionated and forthright.
You also had your eldest son, Lenny.
Considerate and kindhearted, who was often compared to your own self. He loved watching out for his younger sisters, helping guide them.
Such as the best way to get out of trouble...
They were the apples of your eye.
And filled your heart with immense joy. It was clear you were overwhelmed by a happy home life. With a supportive husband by your side.
One that, come to think of it, you’d never mentioned him by name?
Too busy rambling on about what your kids had gotten up to. Asking Cassie for advice every now and again, considering her son Harrison was a few years older.
Hearing about your home life was always a little bit of a bright spot. And humorous as you retold stories of what they had gotten up to.
Even if it was a little chaotic. You wouldn’t change them.
You were thoughtful with everyone in the ER. Paying attention to their questions and concerns.
Remembering little details. Asking about how they were. An open hand for if times became difficult or they simply needed an open ear.
Lightening the mood when things became heavy. Or simply being by their side, quiet and reassuring.
Though as it appeared to everyone else.
The only person who didn’t afford your kindness.
Was Park the Shark.
For one reason or another it appeared as though you and Park were sworn enemies. Always locked in a battle of wits every time you crossed paths.
As you retorted dryly.
Face plastered with a smugness that only seemed to appear as Park entered the ER.
It was rare and only on occasion. Whenever he came down. Stern as he crossed the threshold into the trauma bays. Eyes analytical and observant. Straight to the point. You often gravitated towards him whenever he appeared.
It was always a spectacle.
If not at least a little satisfying to watch you go toe-to-toe with PTMC’s Shark.
There was a feistiness that his presence seemed to elicit from you.
As you muttered with folded arms, shaking your head as he’d respond with the bluntness of a rusted saw.
“Oh, fuck off,” you’d huff.
Clicking your tongue if he ever insulted a med student while in your presence, “Don’t be such a prick”
Shaking your head with a sarcastic quip, “Could you be any more tactless”
Passing phrases that you simply slipped into the conversation whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Insults and retorts that made everyone hold their breaths.
Lying in wait for Shark to retaliate. To shoot you a stone cold glare. Before ripping you a new one.
But the retaliation never comes.
No matter how harsh your retorts are. Or how many times you tell him to piss off.
He only rolls his eyes. Simply biting his tongue in exasperation. Never once snapping at you.
This isn’t to say you’re always abrasive towards him. Just most times. Enough times for everyone in the ER to believe you hated the man.
And no one would blame you if you did. It just felt as though you didn’t really have a reason to.
Park was never outright rude to you. Never dismissive towards you. If anything he seemed. Nice?
It was puzzling for many.
Most swept the interactions under the rug.
Simply passing it off as Shark knowing when he was beat. When it was best to let things slide. Knowing better than to attack you with his brusque nature.
Never realising how your words lacked bite as you directed them to him.
Only ever focusing on the content. And never the delivery. Or the glint in your eyes when you crossed paths.
Until one day.
Joy, the new med student, simply asks outright. Abrupt as Park finishes a consult, after you had once again thrown a quippy remark his way.
“Aren’t you going to retaliate? Dr L/N literally just called you an asshole,” the question fell out of her. “You’ve yelled at me for less. Surely this goes against all of HR’s policies”
She had said the very words that were on everyone’s mind.
The very question no one had ever dared broach before.
Park simply raises a brow. Lips pulled taut, at her question. Letting out a huff. His eyes darted to meet yours.
A deadpanned expression crossing his features.
Is she serious?
While you bite your lip, holding back the laugh threatens to bubble out. Until it eventually succeeds, the laughter echoing brightly and freely around the room.
Thankfully the patient before you was sedated. Otherwise who knows how unprofessional this would come across to them.
The sound of laughter bubbling out of you, catches everyone in the room off guard. Freezing them in place.
While Park only sighs, shaking his head as a small chuckle escapes him.
Only furthering their confusion.
They felt like they were having a stroke.
Had the world turned on its head? What the fuck was happening right now?
The Park the Shark.
Infamous for his steely, cold demeanor.
Was laughing?
What had the world come to.
Perhaps it was the apocalypse, the end of the world, aliens had finally decided to invade Earth…
All of which seemed far more likely than witnessing Shark laugh.
Eventually you catch your breath, wheezing slightly as you muster out, “He has no right in telling me off, not when I birthed his three kids”
“You’re the one that wanted a big family,” He remarked.
Your lip quirks into a knowing smirk, teasing and light hearted as you retorted, “I distinctly remember that being you who said that”
All of the words that come from the two of you only leave the people in the room further left in a pitt of confusion.
“What the fuck?” Santos had muttered beneath her breath.
“He’s my husband”
“She’s my wife”
You had stated at the same time. As you add, brows furrowing in thought, “I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before?”
“No you have not! We were not picturing Shark when you said your husband was considerate and kind?”
You shrug, stifling your laugh. “He is considerate and kind when he wants to be”
Blinking in realisation, turning to Park, “Also, did you remember to pick up Finn’s soccer cleats?”
He nods, “Of course I did, they’re in the car for her”
“Good,” You nod with a bright smile, “Thank you”
“You know I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, as you slide into the space beside him. Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your head.
You pat his back, catching his lips with yours as you lean up. Before clapping your hands, “Ok. Let’s not hold you up any further, I’ll see you later, handsome,” You winked.
A quirk of his lips, as they curve into a smile. Fond. Appreciative.
“Love you”
As the others around you murmur.
“I think I preferred when they hated each other,” Santos commented.
While Whitaker responded, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “I feel like my head is about to combust”
Moving back through the ER, as the trauma room is cleared. You are trailed behind by a flock of med students and nurses, all wanting to know how it was possible that you.
You, who was always so considerate and kind hearted.
Was married to Park the Shark?
It made no sense to them.
“How long have you been married?” Mohan asked.
While Princess added, “Forget that, how long have you been together?”
You replied as you moved to complete some charting, “Married for 9 years, almost 10 next month” pulling out the chain that always hung around your neck, tucked beneath your scrubs. As a pair of rings dip low pulling the chain down, one of which had a beautiful light blue diamond sparkling brightly. “We’ve known each other for well over 15 years, met through some mutual friends from med school”
“Has he always been like this?-” Javadi begins, failing to reach an apt description for Park.
“Like?” you raised a brow.
“So Shark like?” Jesse interjected, as Javadi snapped her fingers in agreement with the description.
“I mean kind of. But only as menacing as a whale shark to me,” you grin.
He had been brash when you first met. But the sharpness of his attitude had eroded and softened over time. You wouldn’t be with him otherwise.
And he knew that if he didn’t change.
You might’ve slipped from his grasp.
“So you have three kids together?” Langdon questions. Also intrigued by the news of your relationship.
Nodding with prideful glee, “Lenny, Frankie and Finn”
“Finn?” Cassie grinned, “That doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Park’s nicknamed Shark does it?”
“Well. Maybe” You replied.
“....All three might be influenced by that fact actually”
“No”
“How did you manage that?”
“How did you get him to agree!?”
“I feel like everything I’ve ever known about you is a lie…in the best way possible”
A flood of questions only managed to bog you down further.
“Does anyone here know the movie Shark Tale?” you always chuckled to yourself each time you were reminded as to what led you to your children’s names.
The group around you murmured with faint acknowledgement of the movie, “Lenny and Frankie are sharks in the movie, so it felt fitting, and well, Finn is pretty self explanatory”
It had started as a little inside joke. Just for yourself.
Not even Brendon had caught on to the theme.
Simply excited and so in love with you.
Lenny.
You had softly spoken the name, whispered to the tiny little baby boy in your arms. Testing how it felt to slip from your tongue.
In your eyes it was the perfect name for your first child. You had hooked Brendon into picking the name by explaining how it meant to be brave as a lion.
So Brendon couldn’t resist.
Not when you whispered that name with such reverence.
And then in the lead up to your due date, throughout your secondary pregnancy. As he stayed by your side closely. Attentive and dutiful towards you.
Taking care of everything. Evenings after he’d put Lenny to sleep, he’d sit on the couch gently rubbing your feet.
You would talk aloud about the names you liked for your twin girls.
Frankie
That was one that had caught his attention.
You did always love the song Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli. So he simply assumed that was where the name came from.
It simply helped that it was derived from the name Francesca, meaning to be free. Independent. And if that wasn’t something he wished for his baby girl. He didn’t know what else there was to hope for.
And he was none the wiser.
To the fact that those names had been derived from a film. One that was unhinged and hilarious.
One that had sharks called Lenny and Frankie.
He had no idea his children were going to be named after sharks….
Well.
Not until you insisted on the name Finn.
That was the very name when you knew the jig would be up.
The moment you would finally have to reveal. Brendon Park’s kids’ names were all Shark themed…
But in that moment where you suggested the name.
And he had no right to go against you.
Not when you had just gone through 10 hours of labour to birth the twins….
Not that he even considered arguing with you over it. Finding the inside joke equally amusing.
He simply sighed with a small smile, kissing your head sweetly, in your arms the little bundle of endless possibility and within his own arms wrapped neatly was Frankie.
Murmuring softly, “Whatever you wish, love”
He might be brash and blunt with everyone else.
But for you.
And your three little kids.
He was as soft and pliable as playdough.
Even as you teased him relentlessly at work. Putting him in his place, just as you had done all those years ago. When you had first met.
Unafraid and bold.
It was what had made him fall in love with you after all.
He was so fucking grateful for you.
And if it meant naming your kids Shark themed names.
Then he would do whatever it took to keep that bright smile upon your face.
To be able to love and to hold you tightly.
As you kissed him softly.
Loving him tenderly.
You were his home.
Reeling him back to you.
You had him, hook, line and sinker.
And that was perfectly fine by him.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Once again I indulge myself. Soft Park the Shark for his lover. Also who doesn't love a little secret relationship trope?? And I literally couldn't help myself with the kids names, I thought it was funny and sweet. (Shark Tale in my opinion is a hilarious film, nostalgia filled opinion) Let me know what you think! ✨
Read Part 2: Hooked On A Feeling Here!
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Or check out my overall Masterlist here
Find My Pitt Masterlist here
Based off of an idea from @lunamoonbby blog which you can check out here
Brendon Park's wife is a marine biologist that specialises in Sharks. One day she pops in to drop off some lunch for him. Being coy about her relationship with him she instead chooses to talk with those around her while waiting for him.
One thing leads to another and somehow you get to talking about why Park is known as a Shark.
The real question remains however is, just what kind of Shark is he?
Warnings: little bit of strong language, secret wife!reader, little knowledge about marine biology regarding Sharks. Just a bit of fun.
Word Count: ~2.1k
There was something about sharks that had always intrigued you.
Even when you were younger.
Bright eyed, eager to learn about the world around you.
Grasping at all the new information you were presented with each and every day.
You were told that as a young girl your eyes practically sparkled when they had first caught sight of the sharks.
Swimming around the tank.
Out of all the exhibits in the aquarium, the sharks had lured you in.
What others might’ve seen as intimidating and frightening.
All you saw was its majestic beauty.
Serene.
When your mother tried to pull you to go check out the tropical fishes, you had dug in your heels.
Unwilling to leave.
Attention enraptured by the deep sea predators.
So every few weeks as a kid you would beg to be taken back to the aquarium, all to go watch the sharks.
Your intrigue only cemented further when a member of staff had taken the time to answer your questions.
Telling you of all the fascinating ways sharks were important.
And how they were cool.
You were only made more excited when you were told there were over 500 different species.
All of varying sizes, shapes and colours.
Living all across the globe.
So it was no surprise that your love for sharks had led you to pursuing a career in marine biology.
It was an arduous journey.
One that had taken you around the globe. Long nights spent studying and gathering data.
Studying sharks of all different kinds up close and personal.
One of your particular favourites was your time spent off the coasts of Australia, as you researched the habits of Great White Sharks.
It was simply exhilarating.
Until eventually you had been led to visit Pittsburgh.
You were just passing through the city, there to join a fellow researcher at the local college.
It was in Pittsburgh where you met the love of your life.
Just picking up a coffee early in the morning, when you had heard someone call out, “just grab me a long black Shark!”
Shark…
Glancing around you, your eyes are drawn to a tall broad shouldered man.
He had the steely temper of the very aquatic animals that you loved.
Chiselled features, pointed. Assured of himself.
His eyes meeting yours, brows arching at the sight.
Your eyes had widened in surprise, diverting them quickly. As your face flushes from being caught.
Oh god.
You just hoped your coffee would be called out soon.
But before that could happen, you feel someone shift beside you.
As he clears his throat.
You look up to find him there.
Eyes staring ahead of him.
Almost as though he were…shy?
No, that felt ridiculous.
Whatever you were picking up soon subsided, as he locked eyes with you once more.
You ask the question floating around in your mind, “Why were you called Shark?”
He sends you an amused smile, before answering to your curious nature.
And with that.
That little meeting.
A beautiful new relationship began to form.
Leading to a first date.
To a first kiss.
Before developing into meeting the family.
Moving in together.
In a moment of bliss, Brendon had gone down on one knee.
A beautiful ring.
Followed by a more than beautiful wedding.
Everything you could’ve wanted and more, all within the strong arms of Brendon.
Whose funny little nickname had drawn you in.
Luring you into his affections.
So now.
A few years after you had exchanged your everlasting vows. You both fell into a comfortable rhythm.
One where he never failed to show you how much he loved you.
Pulling you in and kissing you deeply.
Showering you with affection and gifts.
You took care of each other.
In a way no one else could.
With that in mind.
All that caring had led you to now.
Walking into PTMC, entering chairs as you tapped gently on the window to gain the attention of the reception on the other side.
In your other hand you held a small box, containing the very food your husband had left behind this morning.
Having discovered it once you’d gotten back from the aquarium. Where you now worked in conjunction with a local university.
“Hello”
“Hi, Ma’am how may I help you?” she’d asked you.
“I’m just here to drop off some lunch for Dr Park, is it alright if I go through?”
Nodding, “No problem, just head on through I’ll have our nurse Mateo meet you on the other side”
“Thank you” you smiled, walking through the doors as you’re buzzed in.
“I’m told you’re here to drop off some lunch?” A young man, Mateo, greets you with a kind smile.
Nodding, “Yeah, just passing through.”
“I’ll bring you to the hub where you can wait, and I’ll have someone page Dr Park down for you” he informs you.
“Thanks for that”
He simply shrugs with a small no problem.
Your eyes skirt around your surroundings. Enraptured by the constant movement as they all work in sync.
Despite the unpredictability of their work. They made it look seamless.
Effortless.
Working within their own little ecosystem.
All with their own part to play.
“Who’s this?” An older woman asks, head tilted observing you, as her hands make their way onto her hips in question.
“This is uh- I don’t think I caught your name?” Mateo asks.
Introducing yourself, “I’m Y/N. Just here to drop off some lunch for Dr Park”
“Good to meet you Y/N, I’m Dana, That was real nice of you to stop by, I’ll page Dr Park down for you,” she explains, “You can take a seat here while you wait”
“Thank you, Dana”
Taking a seat at the desk, you’re not left alone for too long as a new voice rings out.
“So you’re here to see Dr Park?” A younger woman appears before you, an intrigued look crossing her features.
Dr Santos you read her name was.
Nodding, “Yeah, I’m an old friend of his”
While not strictly true.
It was partially correct…
You were both once friends before you became more.
You knew Brendon liked to keep his life private at work. Something about his image.
And you respected that.
Didn’t need anyone at work knowing he had the potential to be soft.
Even if he did become putty in your hands.
Feeling secure in your relationship with him.
It didn’t bother you to keep this secret for a little longer.
“An old friend?” she’d only probed further, almost disbelieving.
But you didn’t waver, “Yeah. Just an old friend”
“Is he intimidating all the time?”
A new voice entered, eyes full of intrigue. A badge stating the name Dr Whittaker.
Shrugging, you weren’t about to reveal all.
“Only some of the time”
A small smile creeping up on your face.
“Oh no way, is that a key chain from the Pittsburgh aquarium of Pudge?”
Hanging off your bag a cluster of keyrings hang and chime as they move.
One in particular is of a very cute pufferfish. Pudge. A new addition to the aquarium.
Humming as you confirm, “Yup, and I can confirm he’s a real cutie in person”
“Now I really need to go see him,” she adds, “Oh, I’m Dr King, but you can call me Mel”
“Nice to meet you Mel, I’m Y/N” you smile warmly. “And if you ever want to visit I’d be happy to show you around, I work as part of their marine research department”
She nods happily, as your attention is drawn back over to Santos.
She complains. “Dana did Shark say how long he’d be?”
To which Dana only shakes her head.
Choosing to have a little fun, you tilt your head in false intrigue.
“Why do you call him Shark?”
Now this was something you had learnt very early on.
The very first time you had met, it was the same question you had posed to him.
His own answer interested you enough to accept going on a first date with him.
So it was interesting to hear why anyone else would call him that.
“They say he can smell blood,” Santos joked.
“Have you seen those teeth? Just takes one look at those to know why he’s called a Shark,” A nurse, Princess, throws in.
While Dennis states, “I heard its because his curt demeanour is as lethal as a shark’s bite”
You chuckle at their words.
Thoughtfully, Mel’s mind drifts just slightly, as she asks aloud, “I wonder what kind of Shark he might be?”
“That is a great question.” You agreed. “I’d bet $100 that he’d be a Great White Shark ”
“Sure I’m game, I think he’d be a Bull shark.” Santos affirms quickly.
Great….They had taken the bait.
Mel adds placing her hand on her chin in thought, “Really, see I could see him as a Mako shark”
“What about a Tiger shark?” Dennis suggests.
“Whatever he is, he definitely isn’t a Nurse shark”
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly at Mateo’s remark.
“I’ve heard of these ones called Oceanic White tips, could be him?” Princess suggests.
“See I was picturing a Whale shark,” Dana voiced.
Santos questioned as her brows raised, while the others similarly agreed, “Really? Aren’t they meant to be super docile”
With the smallest of shrugs, Dana simply states, “Somehow I think deep down Shark’s a bit of a softy. Intimidating on the outside but really has no bite behind his words”
And in your eyes, that was a very accurate description.
And in a moment you glance over as the elevator doors open.
Eyes crinkling at the corner of your eyes, as a smile slips onto your face.
“Well now's the chance to ask”
“Ask what?” His tone is gruff, clipped.
Arms folded over his chest. Brows furrowed in a way that would make anyone nervous to speak.
Eyes softening just barely at the sight of you.
Only for you would he be soft…
His only exception.
“We were just wondering what kind of shark you’d be?” Dana had stepped up to the plate.
Unafraid as one of the few who didn’t flinch at the idea of him coming down.
Offering a look of annoyance. He licks his teeth before stating a short answer.
“Great White Shark”
You offer the packed lunch to him, as he nods with a small thanks.
The most imperceptible smile flashing on his face before his steely gaze set back in.
“Thanks”
About to leave he glances back at those around him.
“Do you really have nothing better to talk about?” he gruffly commented. Shaking his head.
Before stalking back to the elevator.
Just barely able to catch you as you boast your winnings. A smile creeping on his face at your antics.
With a grin splitting across your face you send them all a knowing glance as you state.
“Pay up”
Disgruntled remarks sound out as you’re paid your dues.
Counting it as it adds up.
“Fuck yeah, $500. Guess I’ll be eating out tonight”
“Come on, how’d you know that?” Santos groaned, reluctantly paying up.
“What can I say, I just know that guy all too well” you smirk with a small laugh.
Dana tilts her head observing you just a little more intensely, shaking her head with a laugh.
Of course. You were fucking Dr Park’s wife…
There might not have been a ring upon your finger.
Or on Park’s for that matter.
But upon each of your necks respectively hung a chain, dropping down beneath your shirts.
Dipping to conceal itself, were the beautiful rings you had chosen to vow yourselves to each other with.
Both constantly working in fields where having it on your fingers were a liability.
It was simply easier to hang them around your neck.
A tiny little secret, held closely to your hearts.
And as you laughed and teased Santos, Princess and Mateo.
Offering Whitaker an ok to be paid another time.
And reassuring Mel that you’d love to show her around the aquarium and even show her Pudge.
The bright smile wide across your face, gleaming.
And the small sliver of love she had seen crossed Brendon’s face just before.
Dana at that moment knew.
Park was totally a Whale Shark….
The others might’ve assumed Park's response was generic.
A reflex to respond with one of the greater apex predators.
To determine that he was a Great White Shark, for the sheer fact that it was known to be powerful, ferocious, with razor sharp senses as deadly as their teeth.
But in fact.
The reason for his response.
His pick of shark he thought he most aligned with.
It was because he knew.
The Great White Shark, was one of your favourites.
And Brendon Park liked to believe that he was your favourite.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first Dr Brendon Park the Shark x Reader fic! 🦈 (Also what a great idea from @lunamoonbby it was just such a fun idea to explore, I couldn't resist) Hope I did the idea justice and that it was a fun one to read, (No second part planned for this one) let me know what you think! ✨
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
Feel free to find my Dr Robby x Wayne!Reader Rinse & Repeat Series Masterlist here 🩺
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Jack could be relentless when it came to stirring up trouble.
Especially when it came to poking a little fun at PTMC's Shark.
What no one could quite understand was why? Or how Jack managed to get away with it.
Not until you, Jack's fearless firefighter of a wife, comes rushing into the ER.
Turns out your presence worries more than just Jack.
Notes: strong language. established relationship. medical inaccuracies. injuries. Jack being relentless when it comes to teasing his brother-in-law. overprotective Shark.
Word Count: ~4.5k
Jack was known to poke a little fun here and there.
Known to keep a steady head, a calm resolve.
Keeping things light hearted despite the weight of the work. Whatever troubles he had he buried them deep inside, something very few people knew..
It was a trait most carried whilst working the night shift.
An air of indifference, so polarising from the dayshift’s tightly wound energy, it could give someone whiplash.
But one thing remained the same between the day and night shift.
Was its need to feed on gossip.
Gossip was what made the ER spur on. Or at least, simply helped maintain a little sanity for those who worked there.
He loved stirring up a little humour.
His therapist had told him more than once that it was a coping mechanism – but he countered that comment by asking what harm could a little laugh here and there really do?
Whenever someone new came aboard.
One of the inevitable questions that came to their mind was – How did you lose your leg?
Now it wasn’t like everyone outright asked him, most skirting around the topic, too afraid to ask, too timid to broach such a personal topic.
But there were times where some intern or student let their curiosity get the better of them.
Had let the question pass by their filter.
And that such time was now.
As Ogilvie raised a brow, pointed at Jack’s leg and straight up asked, “How’d you lose it?”
A hush falling over those nearby, a huff of annoyance at his blunt question. The insensitivity of it all.
But in Jack’s eyes, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
As Jack catches sight of PTMC’s Shark. The chilling orthopedic surgeon that made everyone’s blood freeze at the sight of him.
That made people part and duck their heads, averting their gaze.
Only a select few found the ability to stand toe-to-toe with him. To not waver in his presence.
And one of those few, was Jack Abbot.
A grin slipping onto Jack’s face as he answers dryly in response to Ogilvie's question, “Bitten off by a shark"
Jutting a finger over towards Park, "That one, that one took my leg,” the words were so blatant, and dry.
An expression of complete seriousness taking over Jack’s features as he spoke.
One that Ogilvie honestly couldn’t decipher from being real or false. His mind knew it was a joke, and yet Jack’s delivery couldn’t have sounded more honest.
Catching word of the joke, Park merely scoffed with the slightest shake of his head, concealing the faintest chuckle beneath his breath.
It wasn’t the first time Jack had made that joke.
And both knew it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The joke never once got old, for either of them.
Jack often brushed off questions about his leg with a simple, before you ask…it was a shark. It was one of Jack’s favourite jokes when avoiding the topic.
Jack shot a look back at Ogilvie, “Now shouldn’t you be helping with hand-offs?”
“Uh–yeah, course,” His eyes widened, stammering slightly with a nod of his head, ducking away.
Jack clicks his tongue, turning to face Park, “I swear that kid is going to make a fight break out in here if he doesn’t learn to bite his tongue”
An air of mutual respect hangs between them. A silent understanding between the two.
“And this is why I chose to go into surgery and not emergency med”
“Hm, and why’s that?”
“The patients tend to be less chatty,” Brendon’s eyes glance up at the clock, eyes furrowing as he simply nods towards Jack. “Makes it easier to talk shit”
Jack merely chuckles from his response, patting his back before Park disappears back upstairs.
It was rare.
But not an uncommon sight to see Jack and Brendon get along.
Whenever they passed each other, every one could tell that there was a friendliness between their interactions.
No one could quite pinpoint why.
Or how.
But it was clear that Brendon tolerated Jack.
But this mutual respect didn’t mean Jack didn’t divulge himself in a little gossip here and then about the Shark.
Whether he’d be passing by as his colleagues spoke, catching wind that the topic was about Park.
He’d add certain little things, “I heard he only ever listens to the soundtrack of Jaws whilst he operates” True or not, he liked to poke fun at the man.
“And how do you know that?” Santos would raise a brow in question.
Jack would simply shrug, “Heard it from someone I know”
It’d be simple things, small things that amused Jack.
Slipping in little truths here and there.
The information always chalked up to having heard it from someone he knew.
Now this someone as far as anyone knew could’ve been anyone, from admin, to a scrub nurse to a fellow doctor in the hospital that Jack was friends with.
No one any wiser to the fact that he was, in fact, referring to his wife.
Brendon Park’s sister.
You.
It was no secret to the staff of PTMC’s emergency department that Jack was happily married.
He proudly wore his wedding ring for all to see.
Speaking highly of you, a clear pride and deep devotion in his tone as he spoke of you.
He kept a photo of you in his wallet, and his camera roll was filled with photos of you and him, simply happy. Just waiting to be pulled out and scrolled through.
The sight of you never failed to bring a smile to Jack’s face.
Slipping you into the conversation with ease. Without even realising it, he could easily spend minutes talking about you to anyone that would listen.
On occasion even doting about you to his patients whilst he worked.
Going on and on about how strong and courageous you were. Fearless. Compassionate.
…
From the moment Jack had laid eyes on you.
His first thought was that you were smoking hot.
Literally smoking as you brushed away at the ashes from your suit, smoke curling from behind you.
Whilst you walked out of the building you and your team had just wrangled with, containing the burning embers until they were out.
He was on the scene assisting the SWAT team as a medic.
And he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you carried yourself with confidence. Words firm as you made the next orders for your team. You were captivating. As you took control of the chaos around you.
How you had taken the time to crouch down and console one of a young boy who had gotten caught up in this mess.
It was that little boy that had brought you over to him.
Having tugged off your glove, your hand was wrapped with his, as you stopped before Jack. The slight dusting of embers on your cheek.
“Do you mind checking up on him? Just want to make sure he didn’t inhale too much of the smoke,” you had asked. “I’d go to the EMTs, but they’re all a bit preoccupied at the moment”
Jack nodded, “Of course,” his eyes moving down to the boy, whilst he crouched before him, to appear a little more friendly.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“George”
“Well George, I’m Dr Abbot, but you can call me Jack. Do you mind if I take a look at you, make sure everything’s ok?”
George nods, “Ok,” his hand never lets go of yours. Clutching it tightly.
“You were pretty brave in there,” Jack said whilst glancing up at you.
You shrugged slightly, “All part of the job, isn’t it?”
Eyes drifting down to the little boy by your side, “Though I think you were braver than me George, maybe you’ll be a firefighter one day huh?”
“Or you could be a doctor?” Jack added.
While George’s nose scrunched up laughing at the two of you. His mind drifted away from the stressful events, as he focused on you both.
“Saving lives, and helping people,” Jack continues to say.
While you twist your mouth, debating his words, “Firefighters do all that too, and we get to ride in a pretty cool truck, what do you say George?”
Whilst George tilts his head in thought.
Jack chuckles, feigning defeat, “When you say it like that, being a firefighter does sound pretty cool”
“Then I’ll count on seeing you at the sign ups,” you remark jokingly.
Jack’s hands moved swiftly, announcing anytime he did something, and what he was checking for. From checking his pupils, to listening to his heartbeat, Jack was thorough.
“Can you take a deep breath in for me George?” Jack asks, while George agrees, “One, two, three, and out, that’s it.”
Your eyes watch as Jack continues to be gentle, humorous as he makes the young boy laugh.
There was something soothing about Jack.
Something that made the adrenaline coursing through you begin to rest and settle. Heart steadying.
“Seems like everything is in order, George, I’d offer you a lollipop but it seems like one of the only things I don’t have in my pockets,” Jack jokes.
“Hey Park! We’ve located the kid’s mom,” one of your colleagues called over. Whilst you nodded in acknowledgement, before looking back at Jack.
“Thanks again for the help, doc”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Jack nodded.
You both hesitate for a moment, not yet wanting to part. “I don’t know what it is about you Abbot, but something tells me you’re trouble”
“Hopefully the good kind,” he replies, with a small quirk of his lip.
“–Park, c’mon!” you’re urged once more.
“I’m coming,” You hum, with a small nod of your head as you wave at Jack. “I’ll see you around”
“See ya”
One of his colleagues comes up to his side, as Jack’s eyes follow you. “Who was that?”
“I don’t know, but I’d like to,” he replied.
Clapping his shoulder, Jack’s attention snapped to the side, “Maybe next time Romeo,” and with that Jack is pulled away to attend to another injury.
From that moment on.
It felt like each time Jack saw a fire truck or a cluster of firefighters, he always, without meaning to, searched for your face in the crowd. Had kept an eye out just to see you once more.
Until eventually it had faded.
His hope had begun to dissipate. Pittsburgh was a big city afterall. The chance of seeing you again was slim to none.
Days turned into weeks, which had turned into months.
Until you had become a distant memory, simply a nice idea.
Well.
That was until you had tapped on his shoulder. Whilst standing in line at a coffee shop one late afternoon, smiling as he met your eye.
You would be lying to say your mind didn’t drift to the memory of the medic you had met all those months ago.
The image of him flitting into the forefront of your mind. How his eyes held a depth to them, unwavering, calculating. The way he held eye contact with you. Softening ever so slightly.
There was a story behind those hazel eyes.
A story you wanted to know.
Eyes tracing his features, as you took in his appearance. No longer wearing the camo tactile suit of a SWAT medic, instead simply in a black t-shirt and cargo pants.
Upon meeting your eyes, they blinked in surprise, before a smile graced his features.
“Well if it isn’t Pittsburgh’s finest firefighter,” he tilts his head, “It’s good seeing you again”
“I see I made quite an impression,” you grinned. With this look in your eye that had him enthralled.
“As if I could forget, Park wasn’t it?” he said.
With a smile you nodded in confirmation, “But you can call me Y/N”
“Well if you’re not busy, how about you join me for some coffee?”
You pause for a moment, letting the offer stand in the air. Before you eventually nod, “I’d love to”
“Great,” a twinkle sparked in his eyes.
Intrigue developing.
Laughter and smiles shared over coffee. Swapping stories from your own funny moments as a firefighter to Jack’s own mishaps in the ER.
A friendship gained, with the feeling that something more could develop.
When schedules aligned. You’d share a coffee or tea, or whatever you felt like, maybe even breakfast before your shift started and after his shift ended.
You had grown closer until soon, the line between friendship and something more had become blurred.
As Jack leaned in, hand caressing your cheek gently. Waiting, tentative, longing to cross that line. Until you tugged him down, crashing your lips against his, melting into his embrace with a sigh.
It was messy at first, clumsy and new.
Trying to find your rhythm together. But once you did. It was absolute bliss. A peace harbouring between you both.
Understanding one another, even in the silences when words felt too difficult to say.
That wasn’t to say it was all perfect.
That there weren’t times you wanted to pull your hair out in frustration as he’d shut you out. Or times where you would be reckless coming home worn out from a shift as Jack would incessantly worry over you.
But you both pulled through.
You learned to grow, to be better. For yourselves. And for each other.
Jack should’ve known that a life with you would always be full of surprises.
Especially when you insisted he meet your brother.
The brother you had mentioned a handful of times, how he was scary but a real softy once you got to know him.
Imagine Jack’s surprise when he opened the door to your home, only to be confronted by the sight of Brendon Park.
The orthopedic surgeon known as the Shark of the very hospital that Jack worked at.
It definitely started out as a tense meeting.
Whilst you tried your best to melt the tension. It didn’t go past you to see how Brendon’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing at Jack. How Jack held his gaze. Cool. Unflinching.
Both simply, polite. But nothing more.
A stale mate.
Only once you slapped him in the arm did his cold facade begin to fracture. “Cool it,” you muttered to Brendon with a pointed look.
Jack watched as Brendon relaxed, how it was clear he cared for you. The way you both interacted with ease. A clear bond.
A side to Brendon he never thought he would get to see.
Jack followed your lead as you teased Brendon, whilst Jack would add his own quips, growing bolder with each passing meeting.
And though Brendon was never one to reveal the cards closest to his chest.
He was glad to see you so happy with Jack.
And even happier when he watched as you and Jack had exchanged your, I Dos, words of cherished promises and love. Brendon couldn’t believe it, the little girl he once grew up with was now grown and married.
Hell, Brendon still couldn’t believe the risks you put yourself through day in and day out as a firefighter.
Even if at times all Brendon wanted to do was wrap you up in bubble wrap and ensure you were ok. He knew that wasn’t a solution.
But no matter what, no matter how much time would pass he would always worry over you. It was part of his job as your brother.
Even if you were confident and able.
Fearless. Bold.
When you walked into a room it was as though you would gain control of it. Eyes would look to you. Your shoulders pushed back, a keen look in your eye.
You and Jack made quite the pair.
That was the you that those in the ER had grown to know. In the fleeting moments when you’d drop by, You’d always take a moment to say hello to everyone whenever time allowed.
Even sometimes bringing in a little something for everyone to eat – knowing all too well the negative impact an empty stomach can have on morale.
You were always a welcomed sight.
Unfortunately.
Tonight was one of those nights they wished they didn’t see you. On the cusp of changeover, just as the night shifters had begun to filter in as those from the day began to file out.
A trauma had been called through.
Another trauma.
Nothing out of the ordinary, especially for those in the Pitt. Barely batted an eye at the information, simply going through the motions as they prepared for it.
Female, a firefighter that had simply got caught in a bad accident.
What no one had expected however.
Was you.
The moment the gurney rolled through the doors it felt like everyone had their breaths caught in their throat.
Snapping back into motion as they hear your muffled groans.
Jack felt like he couldn’t move.
It felt like his heart had stopped.
You were lying there.
Covered in soot. Your gear, partially cut away. A cervical collar wrapped around your neck. One of your legs securely stabalised in an inflated splint.
Bruises already blooming across your jaw.
Yet somehow.
Somehow.
You still managed a grin, running high on adrenaline or on the medications, that was something you couldn’t decipher.
“Hey–” you managed to choke out, voice strained.
“Jesus Christ," Jack had muttered, feet moving fast as he moved beside you. Eyes flickering to everything and everyone as they work around you.
You pull his attention back to you, as you grasp his hand. “Look at me,” you said firmly.
His brows knitted. Worry plastered all over his face.
“Don’t do that”
“Do what?”
“That face, that terrified look doesn’t suit you,” you mumble out, breathing short between your words. “Especially on your handsome face”
A few of the others in the room stifle a laugh.
Jack bites his lip, before sucking in a harsh breath, “I’m sorry love,” his hand clasps yours tighter. Unable to shake the worry from his features.
“I’m going to be fine”
No matter how many times you might say that to him. Jack’s shoulders remained tense. On edge. His attention flickers between you and your vitals. Doing his best to keep you alert.
To keep you talking.
To keep you breathing.
To keep you smiling.
Because smiling meant that you were okay. At least, okay by your standards.
Robby moved fluidly, quick and efficient, doing his very best to ensure you were going to make it through this. He was not going to be the reason Jack lost another wife…
“Page ortho,” he had directed, eyes assessing your leg. No signs of broken skin tissue, which was good, less risk of infection. But there was clearly something wrong with your leg.
Ordering scans as they assess the damage.
Shit.
That was the thought that had crossed Jack’s mind once the word ortho filled the air. Eyes glancing down to his watch.
There was no way Park would still be here.
No way that he would be the surgeon called down.
A wave of relief had washed over him as the orthopede that had appeared, was instead one of the residents.
Watching intently as they worked upon you, feeling the weight of Jack’s eyes.
It seems.
That Jack’s slight relief was short lived.
“What’s the verdict?” Park’s deep voice echoed in the room.
The universe has a strange sense of humour.
The room stilled.
As Brendon appeared at the door. Eyes stern, cold, calculating as he glances at those around the room.
But once his eyes land on you.
He freezes.
Eyes widening, a lump forming in his throat. Dana might have called him down here.
But this was not what he had expected to see.
Not who he had expected to see.
When she had said the words urgently. He imagined a lot of different scenarios. But he never once expected to see you here.
“It appears to be a fractured tibia,” the resident reported.
You snorted, “Think it’d be okay if I borrow your crutches?” you teased Jack.
“Do you really think this is the time to be joking?”
“You could teach me how to use ‘em,” you continued.
Those around you laugh lightly from your jokes.
All except for Brendon and Jack.
“What happened?” Brendon’s face hardened.
Just as the resident was about to speak up, about to explain the details of your fractured tibia. They stopped short, noticing that his attention was directed at you.
“I’m fine,” you replied.
Brendon shook his head, moving to assess the imaging himself, “Fine people don’t get wheeled into the ER”
“Everyone has a bad day,” you shrug, wincing slightly from the movement. Jack’s hand grips yours tighter.
“And what did your bad day include?” he asks, words clipped.
“Building collapsed, that’s all,” you murmured. Your other hand waved lazily, trying to decrease the situation.
“Y/N?” he asked once more.
You simply complained, “Oh my god, you’re hovering”
His brows knit at your words, “I’m not hovering, just worried. Right Jack?”
“Right,” Jack nodded.
Brendon crosses his arms over his chest, lips pulled taut.
"I am making sure you're okay."
But there was this glint in your eye, one that Jack had seen far too many times to count. One he had recognised immediately.
Oh no.
Robby arching a brow at the sight.
Whilst the others watch in confusion, completely left in the dark as to what was happening. Never had Park shown such interest in a patient.
Before Jack could stop you, your arm had reached up.
Your finger pressing against Brendon’s nose.
As you booped him.
You had fucking booped Shark’s nose.
Everyone held their breaths, waiting for his reaction, waiting to see what would happen.
The look on Brendon’s face was one of blinking shock.
Whilst you bore a delighted grin.
“What the fu–” he had grumbled out.
Until you had booped his nose again, his hand catching your wrist. Firm but not harshly.
“What are you doing?” he raises a brow as he looks to you, eyes narrowed.
Whilst Jack pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I read somewhere that sharks back down if you bump them on the nose,” you had explained, a small laugh escaping you before forming into a harsh cough.
Instead of a growling rage. Instead of a harsh retort.
The whole room watched as Shark, PTMC’s fiercest orthopedic surgeon. The very man that could make medical students and interns cry with a simple click of his tongue.
Any harshness had been bitten back, as he instead crouched by your side, grasping your free hand.
Here he was.
Softening.
“Are you ok?” he asks you, softly.
“I will be if you let anyone here do their job,” you squeeze both of their hands, eyes moving to glance between them both.
“It’s not my first broken leg, and you know it,” you looked at Brendon.
He remarks, “Don’t blame me for worrying over you”
Your hand slipped from his, as you pinched his cheek, “I know you’re just being a good brother”
Brother.
The word travelled through to the ears of those nearby. Eyes widening in shock. As if today couldn’t have brought any more surprises.
“As the break is clean and transverse, surgery isn't necessary,” someone had announced. “It’ll likely be a cast for several months to allow it to heal”
You sigh.
Whilst you had been putting on a brave face you had a genuine feeling of relief rush through you. No surgery was a good sign.
Even if you were feeling good now. Anything could happen.
“I love you both, a lot–” you had begun to say.
Jack clenched his jaw, shaking his head, “Don’t speak like that”
You send him a look, “I’m just saying I love you”
“That tone says something else,” his words hang between you.
“I love you too,” he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.
Robby lets out a chuckle as he catches a glimpse of outside the trauma room. Knowing that this incident had added fuel to the flames, gossip spread like wildfire.
Just outside of the trauma room, where you laid, Brendon on one side, as Jack stood on the opposite.
The second it became clear that you weren’t dying.
That you were in the clear.
The second everyone realized your injuries amounted to a cast, a handful of bruises, and a mandatory period of sitting still that would undoubtedly drive you insane—
The gossip began.
Dana bit back a grin as she overheard the murmurs that passed through. This was something that was definitely going to stick around.
“Well this explains it.” Santos said arms folded over her chest.
Whitaker raised a brow, “Explains what?”
She elbows him as though it were obvious, “Explains why Abbot and Shark get along”
“They’re obviously playing civil for her sake,” Princess comments, nodding in agreement. “Seems like Mrs Abbot was once Miss Park”
“They’re always acting like this” Ellis stated as she came up to check up on charts.
“Did you know?”
Ellis stared at them confused. “You didn’t?” her eyes scanning those before her. The dayshifters who had gotten caught up once more with overtime.
And those who simply didn’t want to leave until they knew you were ok.
“No,” Santos exclaimed.
Javadi shook her head, “Had no idea”
“Why would we know that?”
Their shock had only worsened once Mel joined the conversation. “What’s everyone talking about?”
“Y/N, Abbot’s wife, the firefighter” Mohan began to explain.
“Yeah?”
“She’s Park’s sister”
“Oh,” Mel said.
“Oh?” Santos raised her brow.
She tilted her head, brows furrowing, “I thought everyone knew that?” her eyes glanced around at those standing there. Meeting Ellis’ eye who nods, believing the same thing.
“How did you know this?”
“Dr Abbot mentioned it,” Mel explained. It was in passing and so small, to the point that Mel didn’t think anything more of it.
“Of course he did,” Javadi sighed.
Questions brewing in their mind. Their thoughts run wild.
Questions about what it was like having Park as a brother?
What was it like having Park as a brother in law?
How did Abbot not cower when he realised?
Did Park give an overprotective brother talk?
Everything and anything that came to mind.
They would simply have to wait for their questions to be answered just until you were feeling better.
Your hand not once leaving Jack’s as he stood by your side. Soothing you and consoling you.
The worry that had pent up within him now finally was able to settle.
You were safe.
That was all that mattered to him, and to Brendon.
At least now everyone could say that one thing was for sure.
While a shark might not have taken Jack’s leg.
It was true.
That a shark’s sister had taken his heart.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I just loved the idea of Jack using the excuse of a shark biting his leg off, only to tease his brother in law Brendon. Both finding a middle ground when it came to joking about the other. and I totally picture most of the night are already in the know about your relation to Shark as well as Mel!! catching everyone else off guard about it. Just know that no one can look at Abbot or Park the same after this interaction haha
Let me know what you thought ✨
There will be more to come for the Shiver Collection!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ♥️
Next up will feature Mateo Diaz x Reader: Tricky Fish
Read Part 2: Surviving The Shark
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For more Jack Abbot Works check out my series below!
Such as my Dr Jack Abbot x Reader Who Would've Thought series here💖
Or my fic Based on Waitress the Musical, Dr Jack Abbot x Waitress!Reader Sugar, Butter, Flour series 🥧
Or for a lil bit of hurt with eventual comfort check out Jack and the reader create a bond through being widowers, I Know You're Hurting series
Or check out my overall Masterlist here
Dr Brendon Park x Florist!Reader, The Pitt x Reader
Find My Pitt Masterlist here
Amaryllis: Symbolises pride, determination, radiant beauty, and unwavering love
Violets: symbolises modesty, faithfulness, and sincere affection...
The department learns that Park the Shark is enamoured and so deeply in love with the very florist that's wheeled into the ER in need of stitches...
They also learn that she's his wife.
Notes: some strong language, injuries, medical innacuracies, Brendon Park being too handsome and endearingly sweet. slight secret relationship 💗 tooth rotting fluff
Word Count: ~6.5k
Park was a mystery to those in PTMC.
A question mark when it came to all things personal.
Only known for his work ethic.
An incredibly formidable surgeon.
The man you’d want in the face of a critical trauma case. If ever there was a severed limb, he was the one you’d call.
Level headed.
Focused.
But also…
Insanely terrifying.
Feared for his cold behavior, his blunt words and clipped delivery. With a gaze that could send ice hurling straight at you.
Chilling them to the bone.
It made medical students and interns quiver.
And yet…
If anyone were to take a glimpse into his office. If ever they glanced a peak when the door was open.
They would notice.
That without fail.
There would be a beautiful blooming bouquet of flowers sat on his desk.
No other personal artefacts.
Just a pen holder, neatly arranged papers, desk tidy, his certificate on the wall to the side…
Not a single personal picture on display.
And the bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase.
No one dared to ask.
No one dared to question it.
Fearful for their own lives. Afraid of broaching the subject.
The last time anyone had asked him, as he was walking through the ER headed to the elevator.
Bouquet of flowers in hand.
“Is someone dying?” they had asked offhandedly.
Only to receive a pointed look from the Shark himself. A small grunt. No words leaving him.
Making the student shrivel beneath his gaze.
And that student was never seen again in the midst of the ER…
…But only because their rotation in the ER had ended.
Since then no one dared to ask.
No matter how strange or bizarre the sight was.
No matter how odd it was.
No one dared to question it.
Simply leaving it as one of those things they’d never learn.
Never once for a moment thinking that the true cause of the cheery blooms he always had in his office were sweet gifts from his wife.
From the love of his life.
A constant reminder of her.
One that made his heart settle. Sets his mind at ease.
All of this remained a simple secret for him to hold, to cherish. It’s not that Brendon wasn’t proud of his wife, not proud of being with her.
It’s simply that.
He liked keeping you to himself.
Keeping that part to himself.
…Though he often did slip your business card to those he thought were looking to purchase flowers. Or to those who complimented the flowers in his office.
And those in his OR were endlessly reminded of how sickeningly in love he was with his wife.
Forced to listen to his rambles about your recent date together. Or the recent development in your relationship together.
All of them sworn to secrecy.
Knowing better than to let slip the intimacies of Shark’s personal life.
It was safe to say that Shark’s OR was a vault of secrets.
But this little secret.
This little fact about Dr Brendon Park.
Was about to be revealed to all those speculating in the ER about him. Was about to set a blazing flurry of gossip throughout the hospital.
When a woman came through to the ER.
Wheeled in by the paramedics.
It was stupid.
Completely.
Utterly.
Embarrassingly stupid.
The kind of injury that would make Brendon stare at you with that look.
The one that said, you're smarter than this, without him ever actually saying the words.
Which was exactly why you had absolutely no intention of telling him.
…At least not until the blood was wiped clean, and your hand was fixed…
Your morning was going smoothly.
A breeze. Just like every other morning you’d had before at your store. Moving with a practiced ease. Going through the motions.
To the point you could do it all blindfolded.
An early delivery of flowers had been made to the store.
A man had come in looking for a bouquet for his girlfriend, in honour of their anniversary.
Three wedding consultations.
And approximately four hundred stems that needed trimming.
You'd done this thousands of times.
Literally thousands.
Which was why your attention had drifted for exactly one second.
One.
Second.
The floral shears slipped.
And then suddenly there was blood.
A surprising amount of blood.
For such a tiny injury.
…Maybe you shouldn’t start your journey as a blindfolded florist…Was the thought that crossed your mind.
"Okay,” You stared at your hand. The event of it all not fully sinking in. Still in a state of shock, "Okay."
One of your employees stared too, gasping, "Oh my God."
"It's fine," you said. Understating the true severity of this.
"That is not fine," She shook her head.
"It's a finger, barely a snip," you said.
They counteracted, "It's bleeding everywhere,” already dialling 911.
And so.
Twenty minutes later.
You found yourself sitting in the ER. Feeling deeply annoyed. And mildly embarrassed.
A towel wrapped around your hand whilst the blood slowly soaks through.
The cut itself isn't catastrophic. No missing fingers. No shattered bones.
Just a deep slice across the side of your index finger.
Deep enough to need stitches.
Deep enough to be annoying.
Especially for a florist.
It made you groan at the thought.
Moved to a bay, your hand is checked over. A woman with a poised posture. With a look in her eyes that revealed she had seen everything there was to see in a place like this. A look that said nothing could surprise her.
And that.
Was exactly what you needed right now.
The woman, the nurse, Dana, carefully unwraps the towel. Winces slightly on your behalf.
Not because of the pain but because of the inconvenience this would undoubtedly cause for you.
"What?" you asked, peering at your hand.
She shakes her head regretfully, "That's probably six stitches."
You groan, shoulders slumping from the thought. There was no way you were going to hide this from Brendon now…
A head ducks into the room, as a young woman enters.
Dana clicks her tongue, “Ah, Santos. Perfect timing. We’re going to need some stitches here”
She nods, moving over before her lips twist into a frown at the sight.
“Ouch–what’d you do?”
Dana strips her hands of the gloves she wore, wiping them clean with hand sanitiser. While Santos takes over under her supervision.
You mutter quietly, a little embarrassed, “I was trimming flowers–and my hand slipped,” squeezing your eyes shut, “So fucking stupid”
Dana shakes her head, “Coulda happened to anyone–It’ll be good as new as soon as you know it”
“Flowers?” Santos asks, moving deftly to repair your hand.
“Hmm–Oh, I’m a florist. That’s why this is so dumb. I’ve probably trimmed thousands of flowers by now. And while it's not my first floral related injury, I can definitely say this is one of the worse ones.”
You continue to talk with them both.
Sharing your experiences as being a florist.
Bonding over the difficulties of having frustrating customers–patients. Who believe they know better.
And then falling into a tangent about flowers and why you had fallen in love with what you do.
And how they had actually brought you and your husband together.
All in an effort to distract you from the needle threading through your skin. Despite the local anesthetic.
There was something to be said about a phantom pain if ever your gaze drifted to it.
Both Santos and Dana knew better than to draw attention to it.
Instead choosing to indulge in your stories.
And then, just as Dana sits beside the computer. Typing, taking down your details, she glances over to you with a raised brow, "Okay–Anyone you want us to call for you? An emergency contact?”
She gestures to your left hand, to the rings glimmering beneath fluorescent lights, “A spouse, maybe?”
"Emergency contact?" You freeze, biting your lip. It’s not that you didn’t want your husband here. It’s just…you knew he could be a bit much.
Especially when it came to your well being.
You still remember the last time you twisted an ankle when on a stroll in the park with him.
He had insisted on carrying you in his arms all the way back to the car…
You could only imagine what he’d do now.
"...do I have to?" Dana and Santos immediately look suspicious. Sharing a look with each other. Mind flaring with concern.
"Yes," Dana nods carefully.
You sigh.
Deeply.
Tragically.
Like someone preparing for execution.
You recite his number first. Then his first name…and then–
“Park?” Santos blinks, “As in Dr Brendon Park–orthopedic surgeon?”
“Uh–yes?” you said, shifting slightly uncomfortably beneath the weight of their gaze.
Santos’ mouth practically drops open–”Oh my god, wait until I tell Huckleberry about this”
“Santos–” Dana sends her a pointed look. Before shifting to look at you, “I’m going to page your husband and he should come down soon, for now Santos will go over the next steps of your care.”
She steps out. While you nod.
Santos pulls up a chair closer to you, with a wide grin on her face, “So what can you tell me about Shark”
You laugh softly, murmuring under your breath “So he really does go by Shark, huh…” Before you look up at her, arching a brow, “What do you wanna know?”
And whilst Brendon raced down from the moment Dana paged him concerning his wife in the ER.
“Where is she?” he asked her as soon as he came in contact with the hub where she stood beside Robby.
They share a quick look, before both pointing towards your bay…
Your bay, that was now crowded by medical students, interns, and nurses alike. All with the same questions buzzing in their minds.
How were you married to the infamous Shark?
How did you meet?
Are you sure it’s the same Brendon Park we know??
In what felt like a borderline investigation led by Santos.
You sat on the bed.
A smile on your face, a gleam in your eye as you talk about Park. About the husband you had fallen so helplessly in love with.
Robby leans closer to Dana while they watch Park stalk over, he mutters to her, “So…The florist that all my staff are hounding is Park’s wife”
Dana hums in agreement.
And immediately has to fight a smile.
Because suddenly the intimidating orthopaedic surgeon doesn't look intimidating.
He looks worried.
Actually worried.
The kind of worried only reserved for people you love.
She smirks, commenting, “You know it makes sense with all the flowers in his office”
“Who would’ve thought…” Robby says, scratching his face while they watch the crowd part whilst Park enters the bay.
Everyone sending him looks. Little smirks as they look at him.
Only for him to send them fleeing with one pointed look.
Until soon it is just you, Park and Santos still by your side.
He eyes settle onto you and only you.
And though reluctantly…Santos slips out of the room. Pulling the curtain closed around you both.
And there you sit before him, on the hospital bed.
Looking sheepish.
Holding gauze against your finger.
But all Brendon can focus on is the fact that you’re okay. That you’re fine. The relief that washes over his face is immediate.
Visible.
Instant.
His shoulders drop.
His breathing eases.
And for a second.
Just a second.
He closes his eyes.
He steadies his thoughts. All the terrible things he had imagined are now fading from his mind.
"Hi,” Your voice is small.
Brendon opens his eyes.
Stares.
And then his eyes soften.
Coming closer to you he settles by your side, encircling you in his arms. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, sighing as he mumbles out, pure love flooding his words, “I’m so glad you’re okay–I don’t know what I’d do if this was worse”
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into him.
Before remarking, “You’d probably terrify everyone until I was okay”
“I wouldn’t hesitate to do that for you,” he replied, “Because I love you, so much sweetheart, so much”
Vulnerability drenches his words.
Words that make your heart bloom with the warmth you’d come to cherish since the moment you’d met him.
“Love you too,” you whispered softly, leaning your head against his chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner–You know I would’ve dropped everything to be here–”
“That’s why,” you interrupted, looking up at him, with kind eyes, “I didn’t want to bother you–”
“Bother me?” he asked, shaking his head. “You could never be a bother to me–Tell me you understand that”
Sighing, you nod, “Ok”
He arches a brow at you.
Before you melt further into his grasp, “Ok, I promise I understand that I’m never a bother to you”
His eyes trace your stitched up hand. Analysing the work.
Though a little disgruntled at the thought that this was an intern’s handiwork…he couldn’t deny the fact that it was done perfectly.
“Hey–look at me,” you tilt his head towards you, “I’m okay. Everything’s ok”
He sighs, nodding, heeding your words.
Before you lighten the mood, with a small joke, “I can’t believe you didn’t bring me flowers,” you said with a teasing grin.
He chuckled softly, kissing your cheek, “Unfortunately my favourite florist is unavailable right now”
“Hm, must be a lucky person to be called your favourite”
“I think I’m the lucky one,” he replies smoothly, “Very lucky indeed.”
You smile so widely, leaning up to kiss his jaw.
He stays by your side.
His surgeries are rescheduled and moved to other surgeons.
Choosing to be by your side.
Your support.
Your anchor.
As his colleagues send curious glances, whispers spread throughout the ER. Gossip fuelling the morale for the day. Gossip involving him and his beautiful wife.
But that doesn’t matter to him.
His image doesn’t matter to him.
His pride be damned.
For you he would be as soft and caring as you needed. If only to see you smile. If only to hear you laugh.
And to think.
It had all started years ago in the halls of this very same hospital.
A day he would think of fondly for the rest of his days.
The day he met you for the first time.
The day he was gifted his very first flower…
…
You shuffle through the halls.
Eyes scanning the numbers upon the walls, brows furrowed whilst you read each number.
Searching.
Looking for something in particular.
The faint rustle of paper as you adjust the bright bursting bouquet of flowers in your arms, as a flower blocks your view. A small card peeking out from your bag.
Feet moving quickly as you tread through the halls.
Reciting the room number under your breath, the same one the clerk at the reception had informed you with.
Room 412.
A faithful customer of yours.
Always a friendly face in your store.
Who’s wife, Margaret, had informed you that he was post-op.
A successful procedure.
He was an elderly man, James Miller, who always stopped by at least once or twice a month, always coming by to buy a beautiful bouquet of flowers for his wife.
And thankfully these bouquets were never bought as apologies. Or bought out of regret.
–Which couldn’t be said about all your customers.
No Mr Miller always simply bought a beautiful bouquet of flowers, merely an expression of his love for his wife.
Because he knew how much they made her smile.
Because he loved how much they made her smile.
It was a love you hoped to one day have.
But for now…
Your mind was dead set on searching for his room to drop off this bundle of flowers. The colours added a much needed burst of colour in the dreary halls.
Fresh-cut flowers always feel slightly out of place in a hospital. Too alive for somewhere that smells faintly of antiseptic and exhaustion.
But that’s exactly why you brought them.
A pop of colour to brighten his journey in recovery.
A little way to support him, as a way to say thanks for his support of you and your business.
It was just as you were peering at a doorway, scanning for the set of numbers you were looking for.
Half distracted, as your feet kept moving.
That was when you had walked straight into what felt like a wall.
Stumbling back, only to be steadied by a set of hands.
“Oof,” you let out a small squeak in surprise, eyes darting to the bouquet checking for any damage. Muttering out rambled apologies, “I’m so sorry—I should’ve been looki–”
And then you stop short, just as your eyes lift to meet the handsome stranger’s.
His brows knit. Lips pulled into a thin line as he looks at you.
“Just keep an eye out, don’t want to add another patient to the wards,” he says cooly.
You nod, with a sheepish laugh.
“Right, yeah. I’ll keep a better look out,” you say, stepping around him.
Not to be slowed down, even if he was quite nice on the eyes.
Even if he was quite tall.
Quite built.
With a quiet sort of dependability–
Nope.
You were here for your friend. And that took precedence.
Not realising how his eyes trailed after you. Stopped in the hall, simply watching your figure turn the corner.
The bright bunch of flowers brings vibrance to his day.
How your smile made his heart flutter–
Just what were you doing to him?
Shaking his head, he continued on his way. Checking up on his recent patients. Checking in.
While many might say Park didn’t care. Or was too cold hearted to care.
…They would be wrong.
A bleeding heart concealed behind his tall concrete walls. Tucked away from those around him.
His secret to bear.
Turning the corner, your eyes light up finally reaching the room you were hunting for.
Knocking lightly at the door, “Delivery,” you say gently, already smiling.
Seeing as Mr Miller lights up, while Mrs Miller sends you a kind smile. Her hand gently wrapped with his.
“Oh–hun. Those are beautiful,” She greets you.
Moving, as you shift to set the bouquet down on the bedside table, adjusting the stems so they fan out properly, as to not bruise the petals. Soft pinks, and greens, sprigs of greenery, with pops of lilac blue threaded throughout.
Nothing too loud.
A gentle beauty.
“There you go,” you murmur, “Something a bit nicer than hospital lighting”
Mr Miller laughs weakly, “Thank you–”
You hold up a hand.
“Don’t even think about it–Its my way of saying thank you–” you look at him with a smile, before joking, “–It would’ve been terrible to lose my best customer.”
They laugh at your words.
The moment cut off, at the sound of a clearing throat.
“Just checking in to see how you are Mr Miller,” the doctor from before. Leans in, trying to hide how his eyes flick over to you.
A silent question behind his eyes.
Before switching back to observe Mr Miller, coming up to his side, as he checks the monitors and his vitals.
“Oh, Dr Park,” Mrs Miller smiles. Her hand squeezing Mr Millers. She looks over to you, with this glint in her eyes. “I don’t think we’ve properly thanked you”
He clears his throat, with a small shake of his head, “That’s not necessary”
“Nonsense,” she insists. “You saved my husband’s life”
Brendon visibly resists the urge to retreat. To slink away from the praise, “It’s my job”
Mr Miller snorts, “Doctors always say that”
You bite back a smile.
Brendon glances toward you.
Just briefly.
Ever so slightly.
Then looks away.
As though he's afraid of getting caught.
Caught doing what, exactly, you're not sure.
Mrs Miller notices.
Of course she notices.
Women like her always notice.
"Oh Dr Park, you’ve probably not met–this is my favourite florist," she says.
Your head immediately snaps toward her, "Margaret."
"What?" she asks innocently.
"You don't have to introduce me."
“We’ve met, actually,” Brendon speaks up, a small teasing glint flickering in his eyes.
Mrs Miller’s eyes practically sparkle, “Oh?”
You shake your head slightly, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks, “Just in the halls–I mistakenly walked into Dr Park, again I’m sorry about that”
He waves off your apology, “I can see why you were in a hurry”
Mrs Miller then continues on. Catching onto the slight chemistry brewing between you both.
“Well–Then you should know that this lovely girl keeps me supplied with flowers year-round,” She flatters you, before sending you a pointed look, "And bankrupts herself making sure stubborn old men receive recovery bouquets."
You roll your eyes, no malice behind your action, only affection.
“She truly is the best florist around,” Mr Miller adds.
To which you deny, “I’m really not”
Mrs Miller waves you off, looking to Brendon, “She’s being modest”
Brendon bites back a grin. Feeling it threaten to form upon his usually steely facade. He watches the exchange quietly.
Observing.
Listening.
Something soft appearing behind his eyes.
The kind of expression most people never got to see.
Because Dr Park had perfected the art of appearing untouchable.
Cool.
Collected.
A little arrogant.
Perhaps definitely intimidating.
The kind of doctor who walked into a room and immediately seemed in control.
But every now and then–
You caught glimpses of something else.
Something gentler.
Something hidden.
And Mrs Miller catches him watching. Whilst her grin widens. Dangerously, "Oh yes," she says, "She's a good one."
You point accusingly, warningly, "Margaret."
"What?"
"Stop."
The older woman merely smiles.
Brendon gives a final satisfied nod towards Mr Miller. His eyes meeting yours briefly once more. Before he steps out.
With a murmured, “It was nice to meet you”
And your heart clenched at the idea that your paths wouldn’t cross any more…
Mrs Miller leans into your side, teasingly remarking, “I didn’t see a ring on that finger did you?”
You groan with a small laugh, “I can’t believe you”
They both simply laugh, shrugging.
“There are worse men to date–Besides, didn’t you see the way he looked at you?” She added, before sharing a look with her husband.
“He did seem pretty smitten”
“I think I might just take these flowers back,” you said jokingly.
“You’re too nice to do something like that,” Mr Miller calls your bluff. To which you only smile softly, agreeing almost immediately.
And then several minutes later.
After another round of goodbyes.
After promises to visit.
After Mrs. Miller squeezed your hand and whispered, "He's handsome."
Words which nearly made you trip over your own feet.
You finally escaped into the hallway. But not before slipping one of the flowers from the bouquet.
Carefully selecting one stem.
A pink amaryllis.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Strong.
You turn it between your fingers.
Standing outside the door, you shake your head.
Honestly. Mr and Mrs Miller were by far the most meddling of your customers.
Then continue down the corridor.
Only to nearly walk straight into someone.
You stop short, "Oh." Eyes lifting to meet the very doctor from before. Brendon Park.
He sends you an arched brow, “We have got to stop meeting this way”
Your lips stretch into a smile. Letting out a soft laugh.
A laugh that makes his heart race. A flurry of thoughts clouding his mind. The feelings unfamiliar to him. Foreign to him.
His mouth twitches.
Dangerously close to a smile.
The flower catches his attention. Brows furrowing slightly, before asking, “Do you have another flower delivery?” he tilts his head to the side, as he glances at you.
Your eyes flicker down to the flower, then back up, “Uh–yes, actually”
And before you can second-guess yourself–
Before you can overthink.
You hold it out to him.
His eyebrows lift, "For me?"
"A small gesture of thanks,” you say lightly. As though this was simple. As though this wasn’t a big deal.
His expression shifts.
Subtly, "Thanks?"
You reiterate, "It’s for a job well done."
He’s been thanked many times. By overwhelming grateful patients, by their friends and family.
But no one had ever.
Given him flowers.
So this.
This was a first for him.
Brendon looks genuinely caught off guard.
Which seems impressive.
You suspect not many things catch Dr Park off guard.
"You don't have to thank me," he says, unsure of where to go from here.
"Maybe not,” You nudge the flower towards him, before adding, your words soft, sweet, as delicate as the flower in your grasp, "But I wanted to."
“It’s pink?” He notes.
You only shrug, “It’s pretty,” waving off his statement.
And then slowly.
He accepts it.
Almost carefully.
Like the stem might break.
Like the gesture itself might.
The sight makes something warm settle in your chest.
"Amaryllis," you inform him. Watching as he observes the flower, tentative with his hold of it.
“Fun fact it represents strength,” you state, before adding unable to hold back on your little floral trivia, “And back in the Victorian era they were believed to represent pride”
“Pride?” He asks.
You hum in agreement.
Before he looks at you pointedly, “Are you calling me arrogant?”
You huff out a laugh. Caught off guard by his question.
And the brightness.
The fullness of the sound.
Echoes through the hall.
Makes him crack just a small grin.
Passersbys glance over, before shuffling away at the sight of Park. Averting their gaze.
You correct him, “Strong-willed”
“Right,” he nods sarcastically.
Grinning, you put your hands in your pockets, about to speak up. About to take a chance, when–
His pager beeps.
He swallows thickly, glancing down at it, “I should–”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Can’t leave a patient waiting”
He hesitates for a moment, about to speak up, to ask you for a number.
Until you simply say, “Goodbye Dr Park”
Left to simply watch you leave down the hall.
The only reminder of you was the flower in his hand.
Soon he’s rushing off, placing the flower carefully in his locker. Racing towards wherever his pager called him to.
Left with the lingering memory of you.
The pretty woman.
With radiance in your eyes.
And flowers in your arms.
Thankfully…you’ve got a couple friends looking out for you. With perhaps a bit too much time on their hands, as they meddle in your affairs.
The next time they catch Dr Park passing by.
Just perhaps.
Mrs Miller lets it slip that her husband frequents your shop, always leaving with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, neatly wrapped up and elegantly finished.
Personalised, with a hidden meaning behind each flower.
So much thought is put into your work.
So much joy poured into it.
Both very evident in your floral arrangements,
And…
They may have let slip just exactly where your shop is…
A tidbit of information that Brendon tucked neatly in his mind. Something for him to ruminate and think over.
Something for him to ponder over in the moments between surgery.
In the moments where Brendon is finally left alone in peace.
Until…
Three days later.
When he finally takes action.
A day off had led him to drive all the way to your store. Had led him to sit in the car for far longer than necessary. Drumming his fingers on the wheel, thinking whether he should bail or go in.
But then your face would flash in his mind.
The simple action of you gifting him a flower…
He decided then and there.
That he had to try.
Walking to your store, taking in the quaint storefront. The delicate signage.
Nothing bold. Garish. Nothing loud.
But it drew the eye.
The colours were warming. Inviting.
With large glass windows, allowing the sunlight to filter in, bright blooms of all kinds are placed around inside.
The little doorbell above rang out once he opened the door.
“Hello!” You called out from your bench facing away from him, voice as cheery as the sunflowers to his left.
“How can I help–Oh, uh. Dr Park, right?” You finally meet his eyes. Surprise filtering across your features. A little stunned by the familiar figure.
It was quite the sight.
Seeing him standing there.
Broad shouldered,
And sharp edged.
Now surrounded by pure softness.
The contrast was quite drastic.
And yet…
In your eyes.
It appeared so natural.
It simply fit.
He nods at your words, brows furrowing before realising, “I–uh, didn’t catch your name?”
Blinking for a moment.
Caught off guard.
Before your lips widened into a smile.
“I’m Y/N,” you introduce, warmly, “Now, Dr Park—”
He coughs, trying to calm the racing of his mind, thrown off by just your simply dazzling smile.
“You can call me Brendon,” he says.
“Ok Brendon,” you nod, “How can I help you today? Got a lucky lady—or guy in need of flowers?”
“Something like that,” he answers vaguely. Walking up closer to the bench you’re at.
Scanning the tools behind you lining the walls.
The weathered gloves you wore on your hands to protect them from the pricklier of flowers.
To the endless array of different ribbons, of various papers, and twine.
The preprepared bouquets all set to go for those in need of a quick arrangement. Ranging from small to large.
And then the individual blooms around the room.
For those looking for something a little more personal.
“So what are we thinking?” You asked.
And if you were being honest.
Your heart stuttered at the idea he had someone in his life special enough for flowers.
Fearful that any hopes you had built up were now to be dashed away…
It was a nice dream while it lasted.
He stood in thought scanning the room. Really thinking it over.
Before meeting your eyes.
Noting the curiosity sparkling in them.
“What would you suggest—if you were to pick out your favourites?” He answered.
Only to leave you with more questions.
“Nothing more specific?”
He shook his head, “No, I trust your judgement,” Before he adds jokingly, “This isn’t quite my OR, so it’s really your area of expertise”
You let out a laugh, one that makes his smile widen.
And then your mind sparked with excitement.
Racing with ideas.
You didn’t always love when your customers came in with vague ideas.
Finding that difficult to work with, when they um’d and ah’d over the different flowers. Only to completely scrap whatever ideas you had.
—You also didn’t love it when they came in with hyper specific ideas.
Also finding that difficult to work with when they were asking for Peonies in the mid Winter…and trying to tell them just why they cost more in comparison to the Summer season.
That simply came with the job. And truly you couldn’t complain when you were currently living your dream of being a florist.
Normally such a vague request such as Brendon’s would make you internally groan.
But…
There was something about Brendon’s request.
That made you simply think of your favourite flowers.
Those specific blooms come to mind.
And perhaps…
The flowers that came to mind.
The flowers that popped into your thoughts while you mentally curated the bouquet.
The flowers you imagined. Just perhaps were the ones you would love most if he were to give them to you.
“So what would you suggest?” he questions, shaking you from your daze.
“Oh-” Your mouth twists, mind lost in thought, “It sort of depends what or who this is for?”
“Let’s just say it’s for someone I’d like to get to know better,” he answers.
You nod, not really taking in the way he looks at you, not catching the undertone of his words, the pointedness of them.
Instead eyes flicking around the room. Scanning all the different flowers on display.
“And money’s not a factor,” he added, before fearing it would come across a little too egotistical by that, “Not that–not that I’m trying to brag. I just wanted to say I don’t mind how much it costs”
You laugh softly, sending him a look, “I see the Amaryllis really stuck with you, huh?” you teased.
Rounding the bench you began to pluck different flowers. While Brendon trailed after you, asking you about each choice.
“And those are, peonies?” He asked, trying to scrape the barrel on his knowledge of flowers.
Grinning up at him, you nod before overexplaining, “Specifically, Duchesse de Nemours, these guys were bred in the 19th century France”
But Brendon simply listens to you.
He doesn’t roll his eyes.
Doesn’t avert his gaze.
Doesn’t tell you to stop.
He truly listens.
As though you were the most fascinating person in the world.
You would be lying to say that didn’t send a thrill through you.
“And they mean?...” He probed.
“Purity and new beginnings,” you said, admiring their cream coloured, yellow petals, “I think that suits what you were wanting”
Continuing around the room you grasp onto other flowers.
And the conversation continues to flow.
“These are Ranunculus, also known as Persian Buttercups–”
“And why is that?”
“Well it’s said, in a Persian legend, that a young, handsome prince was so hopelessly enamored with a water nymph that he died of a broken heart. And that the first ranunculus sprouted from the exact spot he passed away,” you explained.
He arched his brow in faint amusement, “That’s a little depressing?”
You shake your head, eyes softening while glancing at the flowers, “It’s meant to be charming”
“So long as you like them,” he commented. Before pointing out another set of flowers.
Unaware of the flurry of feelings his words made bloom in your chest.
You threaded through some greenery, to help make the colours pop.
Just as you were about to ask what paper he’d like them wrapped in. You were stopped short.
“Can we add some violets?” He suggested.
You lift a brow in question, glancing at the bouquet. Before shrugging lightly, “It could definitely work”
Gently plucking the delicate violet purple flowers.
Gazing at it in satisfaction.
“And do you want them wrapped?”
He nods, “Just pick what you think suits best, and a white and blue ribbon please”
“Ok–that I can do,” working with practiced ease you arrange the flowers, clipped when needed, tying them in place.
You ask, “And why exactly, violets?”
He wanders the store, looking at all the flowers, the decorations on the walls, the framed pictures of past bouquets, he replied, “I was told recently that I needed a little humility”
You almost clipped your own finger, stunned by his straightforwardness. Coughing lightly. Caught off guard.
You miss the way his lip quirks up.
How they curl up into a small smile.
You distract yourself by preparing the bouquet. The air filled with the faint rustle of the paper, the gentle murmur of music playing in the background, and the few snips of your scissors.
“And–” you tie the last ribbon, before looking incredibly pleased by your work. “Ta-da, your beautiful bouquet is complete.”
He walks back over, taking it in his hands, admiring the elegant beauty of it, the precision of it all.
“It’s perfect, thank you,” he nods, whilst paying for the flowers.
You hold back the frown as you realise your time together is coming to an end. Soon he would be leaving your company. Leaving to gift these beautiful flowers to a beautiful person…
When.
He extends his hand out to you, flowers in hand, “These are for you”
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
Confusion colouring your features.
Before lifting your eyes to meet his.
“Uhh–” you clear your throat, “I don’t understand?”
He shifts slightly, side to side. Nerves building within him as he second-guesses his gesture. Perhaps he came off too strong. Perhaps this was a bit much–but from what he gathered from the Millers…this was the sort of gesture you’d appreciate–
“The flowers–they’re for you…” he says, voice wavering ever so slightly.
Your heart skips.
Then promptly forgets how to function.
For a moment all you can do is stare.
At the doctor standing in your flower shop.
Holding out a bouquet built from your favourite flowers.
Little violets threaded amongst them.
Humility.
A quiet admission.
A man setting aside pride.
Choosing honesty instead.
And perhaps for the first time since meeting him–
Dr Brendon Park looks completely vulnerable.
You take them gently from his grasp, admiring them once more.
“Thank you,” you smile so brightly.
A smile, that Brendon craves to be the cause of.
Craves to see more of.
“Now, I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything–but I was hoping I could take you out on a date,” he feels the courage build within him.
“Yes,” you nod. Before your eyes soften as you look at him, “I’d love to.”
“Good, great,” He nods, a smile stretching across his lips, hands clamped together, “Does tonight sound too soon?”
You laugh softly, before shaking your head, endeared by his efforts, “Tonight sounds perfect”
The relief on his face is immediate.
Almost comical.
And as he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, you think Mrs. Miller is going to be absolutely unbearable when she hears about this.
Somehow, though–
You don't mind at all.
And after plans are made.
Times arranged.
When Brendon walks out of your shop. He has the widest grin imaginable spread across his lips.
He had a date…
You stand in your store, gently admiring the flowers in your grasp. A warmth burrowing in your heart.
You had a date…
And who would’ve known that that date would turn into two, into four, ten, into an endless number of dates.
Until one day he was no longer your boyfriend.
But the man you had fallen in love with.
The man you had said yes to.
The man you married.
And the man that you were building a future with.
And the love that Brendon festered for you, grew within his heart. Swelling and blooming like the prettiest flowers in your store.
Made to last forever.
Cherished forever.
Who would’ve thought?
That the Shark of PTMC would be so deliriously enamoured by the woman with an impressive knowledge of flowers.
By the woman who had gifted him an Amarrylis.
With a tact for all things delicate and beautiful.
That he would have fallen for you.
And that you would love him just as much.
It was certainly quite a shock to those at PTMC…
And just perhaps you owed Mr and Mrs Miller a few bouquets free of charge.
A little way to say thank you for their involvement in your lifetime of happiness…
Even though that could never fully amount to how grateful you are to them. Grateful that through them, you and the love of your life were brought together.
You and Brendon.
Truly so intertwined.
With a love everlasting.
Ever growing, with every passing day.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fic, the first instalment of my stories revolving around a Florist!Reader or simply floral themed!! (fuelled by my love of decoding the meaning of flowers) ♥️ Just heartwarming and sweet to imagine their meet cute moment. The idea of Brendon receiving flowers from his wife just melts my heart!! While that man wouldn't hesitate to buy you flowers, he absolutely melts whenever you bring him a bouquet and spend ages explaining what all the flowers mean to him. He just falls in love with you all over again. (He of course spoils you in other ways 😉)
Let me know what you thought or if you'd like to be tagged in this collection of stories ✨
Read the next instalment of the Bouquet of Love Stories 💐
-> Read Next...Jack Abbot x Florist!Reader: Hyacinth
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
If you're interested, check out my Brendon Park Series; Sugar & Spice here! Featuring the Reader as Dana's daughter.
Help yourself and check out my other Pitt Works on My Masterlist Here!
Dr Brendon Park x Wife!Pregnant!Reader, Dana Evans x Daughter!Reader
Find My Pitt Masterlist here
As requested here by @darknessofhell666-blog-blog hope you enjoy! ♥️
You may not have followed your Mama’s footsteps into the medical profession.
But you did inherit her cheeky wit, and devotion to caring for those closest to her…raised with a deep understanding and respect for those working in the hospital.
You make an effort to drop off little treats from your bakery.
With each appearance you grow closer and closer to everyone.
Leading to the pittlings to wonder just who your husband is
…safe to say it’s the last person they expected.
Notes: some strong language, pregnancy, secret relationship, established relationship. Dana being such a doting mom, and Brendon being so sweet for you 💗
Word Count: ~4.7k
The warming spice of cinnamon.
The gentle warming aroma of vanilla.
And just perhaps a hint of a citrusy twist, whether that be lemon or orange touched with sugar.
It would vary from visit to visit.
But without fail.
Whenever you walked through those doors, it could almost be guaranteed that you’d come bearing baked goods.
Which never failed to cheer up the ER.
Even on the worst of days.
Whether that be from your company or your baked goods, they were always happy to see you.
But no one could be happier than Dana.
Who would wrap you up in her arms, squeezing you tightly whilst your smile would be bright and wide.
“Hey Baby, what’d you bring today?” she asked you with a smile.
“Apple turnovers with a hint of nutmeg”
“Sounds heavenly”
“I know they’re your favourite,” you grin, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, before pulling away, drawn into a conversation with your Mama’s coworkers.
The residents, med students and interns learnt early on, that despite the stress of the ER, at least they were stressed in the Pitt. Where they were lucky to be treated with your specially baked goods.
Because, as you never failed to remind them. Stressed spelled backwards was of course desserts.
Whether it be cinnamon scrolls.
Cookies of all sorts.
Brownies with a twist.
Treats baked with a delicate buttery puff pastry. Strawberry danishes with a hint of pistachio, or simply pear with a little crumble on top.
Tarts, cakes, and everything else in between.
You simply made sure that whatever you brought in, could be eaten with ease, could be eaten in a hurry.
Being the daughter of a charge nurse meant knowing that time was of the essence when it came to working in the ER.
Nothing was ever stale.
Bringing only the best of the best for these hard workers.
Even treating them with new creations, offering these all up for free and all you’d ever ask, is for a bit of advice on whether the recipes needed a little tweaking.
Not that anyone had a single complaint.
Merely that there was never enough, Trinity would teasingly complain.
You were kind, with a humorous wit that matched your mother’s.
So no one thought too deeply over the fact that you dropped by.
Not realising that on days you’d stop by during the change over, whilst you’d leave side by side with your Mama.
Just outside, just out of sight, you’d be met with a gentle kiss and sweet hello.
By the very fearsome, intimidatingly brooding orthopaedic surgeon, the Shark.
Otherwise known as Brendon Park.
Your husband.
You couldn’t say for sure that you meant to keep it a secret.
You couldn’t say that you intended to hide your relationship. Not even your Mama worked very hard to conceal this link.
In fact whenever Park would be summoned down to the ER, he’d always make an effort to stop by and check in with Dana.
He knew how much you worried cared for your Mama. So whenever he could, he would say hi.
And she’d be just as happy to see him.
Perhaps with a little teasing remark. That always kept him on his toes.
For however brief the interaction was. It meant a lot to Dana to see Brendon make such an effort.
Because she knew that deep down, behind his cold facade and abrupt nature. He was as soft and gooey as the brownies you would bake.
It just happened that no one had noticed.
Simply believing Park to have the decency to be nice towards the ER’s charge nurse. It wasn’t uncommon, seeing as he could be civil with Robby, the nurses and a few others in the ER.
Only ever truly being curt and clipped towards the juniors. He could be most impatient when it came to improper handling of cases.
His method of teaching being more akin to throwing them in the deep end rather than holding their hand in a wading pool.
…Truly, besides knowing that you were Dana’s daughter and an owner of a bakery, with a knack for making the very best treats.
Not much was known about you.
Well.
With only a handful of people knowing more of your personal life. Including Robby and Jack, Lena and Lupe, as well as most of the nursing staff, especially those closest to your Mama, such as Princess and Perlah.
All of whom knew better than to divulge your personal life.
Leaving many of the medical students and newcomers to wonder about your life.
Whenever time was on your side, you’d do your best getting to know them.
Listening intently when Dennis would speak about his youth growing up on the farm–giving him a little advice here and there. You had of course picked up a few things being Dana’s daughter.
Gently teasing Victoria when you saw her stumble over her words as she spoke with Mateo, feeling a burst of pride while you watched her confidence grow.
Samira would gravitate towards you and rant about her day, whilst you let her frustrations roll off. With a sympathetic smile, and always a little treat to quell her stress.
Frank would greet you with a wide grin, endearingly calling you “Baby Evans” in honour of your mother often calling you Baby.
Unfortunately, that nickname had caught on…
“Hey Baby Evans–what’s new with you? It’s been a while since you stopped by,” Trinity grinned, leaning upon the desk as she looked at you.
From where she was standing all she could see was your top half as you sat at the station.
“Well–uh. Funny you should ask,” you smiled gently, a small coy glint to your eye, “Maybe you’d like to guess?”
She rests her head in her hand as she looks at you.
A slight glow to your complexion, but that wasn’t overly unusual.
A slight glossy sheen to your hair.
And a wide smile upon your face.
But–
Trinity tugged Mel as she passed to stop her, while pointing a finger towards you, “Does something seem different with Baby Evans today?”
Mel’s brows knitted together, “Uh–”
"Something's different and I can’t quite put my finger on it”
Mel looked at you, as you gave her a little wave, before she glanced back at Trinity.
“She seems a little more glowy today? But that could be because of the pregnancy,” Mel replied a little quizzically.
Trinity blinks rapidly before her eyes snap back to you, “What?-”
Your laughter cuts through the room as you nod.
Trinity’s lips curl into a smile, rounding the corner, “Congratulations–Why didn’t you tell us?” her arms wrapped around you from behind, while you reached up to hold her arms.
And now as she stands beside you, she can see your growing stomach, rounded and full.
Smiling with such delight you answer, “We were just waiting a few weeks, just to make sure–wouldn’t want to jump the gun, a few weeks just happened to turn into a few months”
Trinity nods before glancing up, interrupting Dana and Robby mid conversation, “Dana! Why’d you hold out on us!”
Dana looks up, eyes peering over her glasses, before plucking them off, “Like N/N said, just wanted to make sure everything was tracking along ok,” her gaze drifts down to you, “Did you tell them the other news?”
You shook your head, “You can”
Dana nods with a smile, walking over taking Trinity’s place by your side, looking down at you fondly, “My Babygirl is going to be having twins,” she beams with pride.
A round of congratulations pour out from everyone, all of them taking the time to say hi and congrats to both you and Dana.
And so with this news.
The murmurs of gossip began.
All revolving around, who was the lucky guy to call you his partner in life?
With only a few tidbits of information to go on.
For one.
He was considerate. Caring.
It was no secret you were very much in love, with never a bad thing to say about your husband besides the fact that he worried too much over you.
Two.
He was a doctor.
It had come up in passing. So brief. Barely even a moment spent on the topic.
Merely a fleeting comment, whilst one of them fussed over you, insisting they help you with the boxes of baked goods claiming the stress wasn’t good for the babies.
You had simply swatted them away with a small chide, “Oh please don’t fuss over me, I get that enough from my Mama and my husband cause he’s a doctor”
And then three.
Dana never had a bad word to say about him. So he must’ve been a great guy to have gained her approval.
Oh.
And that he was handsome. But as that information came from you, that could’ve easily been a subjective opinion.
That was it.
That was all they had to go on.
And instead of asking either you or Dana outright.
They had resorted to trying to work it out themselves. Sifting through whatever snippets of information they could gather. Trying to piece together this little mystery,
Unaware that the answer was right beneath their noses.
Unaware that your husband worked alongside them.
“So who do you think it is?” Trinity asked Victoria, her eyes glancing at you from across the room.
“Who?” Victoria asks, without looking up from what she was doing.
Trinity clicks her tongue, “Who?–Pay attention Crash–I’m obviously talking about Y/N’s husband”
Victoria nods in understanding, before shrugging, “I don’t know, is it really any of our business”
“I’d still like to know,” Trinity says, biting the tip of her pen in thought. Before adding, “Do you think it’s someone from the night shift? I mean she always arrives at changeover–What do you think, Huckleberry?” She drags him into the conversation.
He shakes his head, “Uh–uh, I am not getting involved in this. I still want Dana to like me”
She rolls her eyes at him, before directing her gaze once more to Victoria.
Who hums in thought, “But her showing up at changeover doesn’t really prove anything, I mean she could easily be with someone from the dayshift”
Trinity sighs in agreement.
Her eyes narrow, observing you whilst you happily chatter with those around you. All of them trying to guess the sex of your babies, listing off plenty of names as suggestions.
Olive and Sage. Poppy and Colby. Or even Hazel and Brie.
Seemingly everyone found it very amusing to suggest names relating to you being a baker…
But you held your cards close to your chest. Not once showing whether you favoured one name more than the other.
Though you did scrunch your nose in distaste when Jesse offered the name Graham…after you had brought in graham cracker crusted tarts.
And you definitely broke down into a laugh when Princess had whispered the name Hunter with a knowing look in her eyes.
And yet.
The med students were no closer to figuring out who your husband was…the only other clue they had was that he had to be quite well off, considering the very sparkly ring they saw upon your hand.
Whilst your due date grew closer and closer. Your Mama loved to fuss more over you. Trying her best to dissuade you from coming to the ER.
With worries such as, “It’s not safe, patients can be erratic”
“The stress of the ER isn’t good for you”
And everything like that…
Unfortunately for her, you were as strong headed as she was. Waving off her concerns always with the same response.
Whilst you’d gently squeeze her hand, “Mama,” looking her in the eyes, “I like coming in here, I like coming to see you, and besides–I’ve got plenty of baked goods and you all deserve a little sweetness too”
However both your Mama and Brendon had managed to convince you to take it easy at work. To reduce your hours and hand over more responsibilities to your employees.
Telling you to take it easy.
To rest and stay off your feet a little more.
And whilst at the start you had complained…you were starting to see their point once you began to get winded more easily, feet growing sore, back aching.
Especially noticing that your bladder was growing weaker as your babies pressed upon it with each little shift.
Leading to times like these.
Dropping the box of cookies at the hub with a quick hello, before rushing past your Mama to the bathroom.
And then.
The elevator doors open.
Brendon Park steps out, with his bag slung over his shoulder. Icy blue eyes scanning the room, noting the familiar box of cookies at the hub.
He strides over to Dana, with a small raised brow. As interns and students alike duck their heads to avoid eye contact.
Question on the tip of his tongue.
“The babies decided the bathroom was where they wanted to go,” she explained.
He nods his head in understanding, “And how are you today?”
Dana nods with a smile, “Not bad”
Their conversation cuts short as Trinity waltzes up to the hub alongside Dennis, as she plucks a cookie, sending Dana a look before glancing at Brendon.
“Didn’t know we needed an ortho consult?”
Dennis’ eyes widen in panic trying to avert himself from Brendon’s eyeline.
Whilst those around hold their breaths.
Waiting for the bite back.
For the sharp retort.
But it never comes.
Brendon simply arches a brow. His eyes flicker down to meet Dana’s who meets his, before she looks back at Trinity.
And then.
Dana huffs out a laugh.
Stunning those around them – well those of them who didn’t know the relation between the two.
“If you’re not here for a consult, then why are you here?” Trinity probes further. The cookie in her hand, now half eaten.
Grinning widely, Dana wraps an arm around Brendon with a small pat on his back, whilst his arm slings across her shoulders.
She answers, with a slight sense of pride, “He happens to be my son-in-law”
Shock enveloping everyone around them. Whilst those who knew stifled a laugh at the sheer surprise flooding everyone’s features. Robby and Jack bite back a grin as he sees his colleagues freeze from the information.
Princess lets out a giggle whispering with Perlah, who hands her a $10 note with a small sigh.
Trinity almost chokes on the cookie in her mouth.
Victoria’s mouth agape.
Samira’s mind racing.
Dennis blinked in shock.
Cassie lets a smile stretch across her face with a small nod as she takes in the news.
Mel and Frank share a look of disbelief.
Until all they can simply do is watch as you walk over from the bathroom.
Seeing how your eyes light up at the sight of Brendon, shuffling over to him, with a soft smile – your gaze only focused on him. Not noticing the stunned expressions of those around you.
Simply delighted to see your husband’s handsome face.
Dana lets her arm fall from Brendon who walks to meet you halfway. You’re arms wrapping around him, “Hey love.”
He leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile creeping onto his face.
An expression so unfamiliar to those around him.
They had to pinch themselves to believe it was even happening.
“Hey Angel,” he murmured with such tenderness.
Sighing you relish in his company, so comforting and soothing, “How’s your day?”
“Better, now that you’re here – what about you?” he replies, sincerity drenching his words, his hands drifting to caress your cheek, before settling onto your stomach, “Hope you both have been good to your mom.”
You shrug, lightly with a small laugh, hands shifting to settle on his as they’re warm against your stomach.
“I’ve been good and they’ve been good, making sure I keep my steps up though, constantly making me need the bathroom today,” you reply cheekily, before you notice everyone coming to a stand still around you.
The silence broke as Ellis nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, “I knew it,” she remarked to Trinity.
The crowd of med students and interns all share their own thoughts, whilst Ahmad divides out the money from the bets placed pertaining to who your husband could have been.
Both you and Brendon sigh as you watch it all unfold.
You grin up at him, patting him on the arm, “I better go talk with them about this”
“You didn’t mention I was your husband?”
You shoot him a look, retorting with a teasing lilt to your voice, “It’s not like you said I was your wife”
He tuts at your words, folding his arms over his chest, “Everyone in my OR knows I’m happily married to you”
You lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back. With a wink, “Good luck, living this one down”
He sends you the slightest of smiles, the expression reserved only for you, while you leave his grasp.
Brendon is pulled into talking with Robby, and Dana, while Jack pats him on the back. All of them watching the others flock to you.
And in a moment you are swarmed by all those who were surprised by this revelation as they ask you any and all questions that come to mind.
How?
Why?
When?
All wanting to know, just how you managed to make Shark become as soft and sweet as a shortbread cookie. And even more so, how Park had managed to gain Dana’s approval.
In the midst of talking with Samira and Trinity, your breath hitches slightly, “Oof–”
Samira’s eyes furrow in concern, sharing a look with Trinity, “Are you okay?”
“Hm? – Oh, yeah. I’ve just been having these pains for a little bit – but I had them before and they weren’t anyth–oof” you hunch over just a little, hands settling to rest on your lower back, breathing deeply.
“Hey can you get Dana or Park here?” Samira asks Trinity, who nods.
You wave them off, “I’m fine”
Samira ducks slightly, hands resting on the sides of your arms to support you, “I’d rather not take the risk – especially considering you’re related to Dana and Park”
She observes you, slipping into habit as she asks, “How long did you say you were feeling like this?”
“Over the last hour or so, but I’m sure they’re just braxton hicks or whatever–” You explain. Not overly concerned.
“You really don’t think you’re going into labour?”
You think over her words. Over how you’ve been feeling, the discomfort and pain. How you had simply chalked it up to just being pregnant.
“I mean–now that you mention it–”
“Hey Baby, what’s going on?” Dana steps beside you, joined by Trinity. While Brendon joins your other side.
“Oh–hey Mama, Brendon, uh–everyone seems to think I’m going into labour,” you say with an airy laugh.
Both of their eyes look at you in concern.
Dana glances up, a questioning look entering her eyes as she looks to Samira and Trinity. Who both nod in agreement.
“Ok, well lets get you up to the labour ward and we can get you sorted,” Dana’s hand soothingly rubs across your back.
“Do you think you can walk, or would you like a wheelchair?” Brendon asks. Ready to step into action.
About to argue, insist that you could walk, you stop yourself short as another wave of pain enters your abdomen with a sharp breath.
Hand gripping your Mama’s.
“I think I’ll take that wheelchair”
He nods and moves quickly to grab one, before settling you down.
Feet moving quickly, steadily as he pushes you towards the lift.
Everyone calling out their good lucks and words of support as you leave.
While Dana walks quickly beside you both, grabbing at her bag as she passes by, nodding towards Lena, “Sorry I can’t help more with the hand offs–”
Lena gives Dana’s hand a gentle squeeze, shaking her head, “Don’t even start. You just make sure your Babygirl’s ok when she has her babies”
Dana nods gratefully, before disappearing into the lift alongside you and Brendon, her hand slipping to hold yours.
Looking up at them both.
You smiled, a slight mist entering your eyes. Grateful for their support. For their love. Breathing deeply.
Calm.
Assured.
That your babies were coming into a family so full of love.
A loving father. Brendon’s hand resting on your shoulder, so soft and tender. Looking at you with complete adoration and affection.
A doting grandma, Dana, who had quickly called Benji, asking for him to pick up your pre-prepared baby bag back at your home.
While she informed your sisters of the recent development. Who were more than ready to be adoring aunts for your soon to be born twins.
It made your heart swell at the thought.
You couldn’t wait for the next chapter of your life.
After a long night.
Soon, your struggles came to an end, as you were handed over your beautiful babies wrapped up in cotton blankets.
Tears welling up in your eyes, forehead sticky from the long labour.
Smiling widely, while Brendon kissed your head firmly, his own eyes growing misty. Heart melting at the very sight of your babies.
“I love you so much,” he told you.
Within his grasp he held his entire world. Your two precious little twins, Finnick and Rosie. With bright wide eyes peering at you both with intense curiosity, fingers curling around yours.
Whilst you beamed down at them, leaning against Brendon. Whose eyes lifted to meet Dana’s, gesturing for her to come over.
“Would you like to hold one of them?” he asked.
A smile stretches across her face, her eyes glittering as she looks upon the scene before her.
What more could she ask for? She had a son in law who ensured her daughter’s comfort–who ensured that you felt loved every moment of every day. And two little baby grandkids to fill her days with joy…
Nodding, her arms stretched out while Brendon carefully placed Finnick in her arms. She coos softly at the little baby.
Hours pass, as you all simply relish in the peace.
The news filters its way down to the ER.
And from the moment the news broke.
Every so often, you would have a new guest knock upon the door.
Friendly faces stopping by.
To they discover, you with Brendon never far from your side, close and cosy, and the two little bundles of joys.
Jack and Ellis made an appearance when the ER had succumbed to a rare moment of relative peace.
Until soon the dayshifters began to filter in.
Dropping off little snacks and some food for you, brought to you by Samira and Victoria, helped by Lena who told them all of your favourites.
Trinity and Dennis had stopped by a stack of gifts neatly wrapped in their arms, from blankets, to two little plush stuffed sharks.
Robby had briefly checked in, sharing his own congrats with you both.
And of course, most of the nursing staff had taken the time to check in with you all. Princess and Perlah crooning over your two little sweethearts.
And each time whenever someone would stop by.
One of the first questions they would ask was.
What are their names?
And each time you’d be asked that question. You’d share a glance with Brendon, a tender softness.
Finnick Park.
This one.
This one took a little arm twisting for Brendon to agree, catching onto your little joke immediately, as you were barely able to conceal your growing grin when suggesting it.
But with a little effort, with a few sweet kisses you had managed to get him to agree.
The nail on the head was just after you had given birth to them - there was no way he could say no to you.
But the next name.
Rosemary ‘Rosie’ Park.
That name took no effort at all to convince him.
In fact as soon as the name left your lips he had fallen in love with the idea.
A small way to preserve the memory of the very first time you had met each other…
Years ago.
Back when Brendon had only started out at PTMC. Had only just started his journey there. Already growing a reputation. A cold demeanour.
But he had cracked this day.
A slight fracture in his otherwise pristine facade…
A tough day that still had hours left.
He had managed to slip out, for a bit of fresh air he had convinced himself that this was all it was – a bit of fresh air…
But as he walked down the street.
He had come across the quaintest little bakery – a cafe. Friendly and welcoming, with butter yellow awnings. And a bright blue door.
Sugar & Spice.
The words neatly printed upon the glass pane.
And for whatever reason. He had stepped in. The faint doorbell ringing out. Whilst he was enveloped in the fragrant warming aromas of all the baked goods, rounded off with the notes of coffee in the air.
A few people sat dotted around the space.
Not quite flooded by people.
Judging by the space it seemed to be relatively new. Perhaps only having been opened for less than a few months.
This place was your dream come true…served with a side of stress. A small team of four, including you, worked to maintain the demand.
Mind racing with a multide of things whilst you worked.
But your gaze came to a halt.
Stopping upon the lonely figure of a man sat by the window…
Unable to choose from the array of baked goods, Brendon had simply ordered a black coffee.
Simple.
Just wanting something simple.
But you had other plans.
A small frown twisting at your lips while you watch him.
How his dark brows furrowed. Lips pulled taut.
Crystal blue eyes, now clouded over.
Murky.
With that very same look you had seen a hundred times before on your own Mama’s…
How his shoulders’ slumped as though carrying the weight of the world. The brunt of the day.
Just like your Mama did.
It was how you had known he worked in the medical field.
…well that and the fact he still had his scrubs on barely hidden beneath his jacket.
Now while better judgement might have told you it was a bad idea to give out free food so early on into opening your business.
Your bleeding heart had won out in the end.
The gentle clink of the ceramic plate broke Brendon from his daze.
Icy blue eyes met yours.
Making your breath catch for just a moment.
Before regaining composure whilst you slide the plate closer to him.
A plate of rosemary shortbreads.
Fresh from the oven.
A crisp and perfectly buttery crumble texture, with the salted edge from the rosemary, lifted by a citrusy twist from a touch of grapefruit.
You watch as his eyes knit together in confusion, voice low, as though a gentle hum, “I didn’t order—“
“You’re not allergic to anything are you?” You had asked, tilting your head looking at him expectantly.
Only for him to shake his head.
There was something about you. That had made his words lodge in the back of his throat.
Nodding in satisfaction you added, “Good. Try these and tell me what you think of them before you leave.”
“But–“ he goes to argue. To counteract. Unsure what had warranted him this act of kindness.
“On the house,” You had flashed him a smile, before walking away.
His eyes trailing after you.
Gently lifting the unique shortbread to his mouth.
Letting it simply overtake his senses as it melted onto his tongue.
Soothed by just a single bite.
Catching your eye as he smiles your way in thanks.
Who knew.
That that was all it would take to make him besotted with you.
Leading you both to this moment now.
Your twins now fast asleep in their little bassinets.
Whilst Brendon’s arms wrapped around you. So warm and steady.
The rise and fall of his chest helping ease any worries.
Even when life would throw you troubles. Even if there would be disagreements or problems.
Those would always fade away. Would always be worked through.
Embraced by his unwavering love and affection for you.
Brendon was unconditionally in love with you.
Just as you were with him.
Now this…
This was sugar and spice, and everything nice.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little story ♥️ I can just imagine that when Brendon first met Dana as your boyfriend he was a nervous wreck. This was absolutely so sweet to write and explore!! I had a lot of fun developing these dynamics. (My heart is such a sucker for softy Brendon behind his steely facade)
Also check out this recipe for rosemary shortbreads (they are delicious)
Let me know what you thought ✨
Read Part 2: Gentle Hands & Gentle Hearts here!
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
Help yourself and check out my other Pitt Works on My Masterlist Here!
Find My Pitt Masterlist here
This is a little fic for @domaystic
Based on day 24: New Pyjamas
You had a little habit of buying nautical themed items.
And now that included Shark themed pyjamas.
And Brendon can't help but love you for it.
Softening day by day from your presence.
It certainly shocks a few of his colleagues to discover this new development in his personal life.
Notes: wholesome fluff. just two people in love. established relationship. slight suggestive content (literally barely, like only if you squint tbh). slight secret relationship.
Word Count: ~2.4k
It had started out so small.
Almost unnoticeable.
Just small little things.
Here and there.
Growing overtime.
Subtle.
A mug broke?
Don’t worry, I have the perfect replacement, you would say.
Just some pretty mugs, some pale blue, some light cream. But it certainly made Brendon raise a brow as he neared the end of his coffee.
Noticing a small little ceramic figurine settled at the bottom.
A small.
Tiny little shark.
Lifting his eyes to glance at you whilst you move around the room, a grin on your face as you slightly dance along.
He simply sighs with a shrug, continuing his coffee.
When you had said you bought new mugs he didn’t expect there to be little sharks at the bottom.
Nevertheless he was slightly amused.
But then there were other things.
New pillows would appear on the couch.
You would simply say, the others weren’t quite cosy enough, aren’t these cute though.
Brendon would agree almost instantly, opinions bending to agree with you in a second. They certainly were far cosier than the previous ones.
Plush and soft to the touch.
Perfect for those evenings where you would lay against him, eyes drifting shut, soothed by his beating heart, hands clutching one of the new pillows to your chest.
A new pillow that may or may not have had a little shark stitched upon it.
And if one evening after Brendon insisted you buy more blankets, noticing there wasn’t enough around the home on those nights where you wanted to be snug.
He didn’t realise it would result in you coming home with plenty of new ones.
That might all be definitely ocean themed, deep blue with crisp white stitched edges. Not enough to be obvious. But enough to add to a theme.
A theme Brendon had no idea you were curating.
His house that had once been sterile.
Clinical. Just a place for him to rest his head and house his things.
Had now become a home, through those simple touches.
Those little changes that softened his sharp edges. Warmth seeping into the home as soon as you stepped into his life.
Before you.
Brendon didn’t believe he would be in this position now.
Where his mornings involved waking up to the sight of you.
To the evenings spent lulled to sleep with the steady feel of you nestled in his arms.
There were times where Brendon thought he would’ve had to live life alone.
And at times, he was okay with that.
Even in times where he would sit alone at his dining table, just the gentle scrape of his cutlery as he ate.
House empty. Silent. Vacant.
Even in times where all he wanted to do was share a story with someone. Share a funny little thought.
There was no one beside him…
Even in times where he wanted to share his life.
He understood why it was far-fetched.
Unreachable.
Unthinkable.
That he was not an easy man. Not an easy partner. That he was often misunderstood – through not fault but his own.
His life was difficult to share…
He was known as a Shark in his place of work for a reason.
With razor sharp words, biting remarks.
Steely demeanor.
Blunt.
As cold blooded as the marine predators of the sea.
He had accepted his loneliness long ago…
Until you had come into his life.
You had pulled him out of his drowned state.
Had made him understand how he could be loved.
How he was worthy of softness. Of kindness.
Had made him realise.
He didn’t always have to be so strong. So tough. Peeling back his thick skin, until you carried his heart in your hands.
And now.
Brendon wouldn’t want it any other way.
His house, no longer quiet. No longer empty.
Now filled with warmth. With life. With love. With funny little trinkets, and pictures all along the walls, an illustration of a life shared. Of memories made together.
His house was now a home.
All because of you.
All thanks to you.
Whatever made you happy.
Was the promise he had made to himself, even if you didn’t know it. It was one he would keep and treasure as he held you in his arms, a smile gracing your features.
And if that included small little nautical touches.
Small items that paid homage to his funny little nickname. Then that would be alright with him.
Most of these things, the small little items, he wouldn’t comment on its theme, wouldn’t make note of it. Simply smiling and sharing that it looked good.
And that was enough to make you smile.
But then one day.
After a long day at work. After a day where all he wanted to do was face plant into the bed and pull you into his arms.
He had wandered sluggishly through the hallways.
Calling out, “I’m home”
The muffled sound of your reply, “Just in the bedroom!”
He breathes a sigh, shoulders dipping as he drags himself to the bedroom, shoes, jacket and bag all left to hang neatly at the entrance.
A faint glow of light emanates from the ensuite. A small mist of steam.
His eyes lift to meet yours as you step out of the bathroom, face glowing, the faint aroma of eucalyptus and lavender enters his lungs. Soothing him down to his very soul.
Your evening body wash never failed to soothe his senses. Calming him. His eyes trace your figure, taking you in, taking his sweet time.
Dark blue flannel bottoms just barely dragged against the floor.
But what had made him raise his brows.
Had made his eyes dart to you in question.
Was your shirt.
One he had never seen before.
A light creamy cotton. That looked soft to touch. Sleeves rolled up to your elbows.
It wasn’t the colour or the style that had made him freeze.
No.
It was the print upon it.
A shark, plastered across the chest. With two little words.
Bite Me
“Hi honey,” you smiled, walking across the room to meet him, arms wrapping around his neck.
As Brendon cranes his neck to look at the shirt once more, before lifting his eyes to meet yours.
“Do you like my new pyjamas?” you asked. Fully aware of what you were doing.
From the moment you had learnt about his nickname. You couldn’t help yourself whenever you saw something that made you think of Brendon.
From the cute little mugs. To the blue soft blankets and the plush pillows.
All of them in one way or another made you think of Brendon.
And that was exactly how you came to own this shirt now.
Catching sight of it in a shop window.
Once you had set your eyes upon it you simply couldn’t leave without it.
A grin forming on your face as you watch Brendon admire you. Growing even wider at his response, “I love it”
Pulling away you scramble to reach for your bag, “Great! Because I got you one too”
The small chuckle that slips from his lips, a sound reserved just for you. No walls up, just pure softness, all for you.
Watching as you tug a shirt from your bag, a dark navy blue, with a shark imprinted upon it.
The words.
I Love You With All My Shark
Neatly written beneath it.
“I will admit that it was mainly for my own amusement,” you say, passing it to him. “What do you think?”
“I love it,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your head. “I love you,” Mumbling softer, a depth to his tone.
His hands shift to glide along your figure, slipping just beneath the soft fabric of your new shirt, his lips trail along your neck, teeth just barely grazing.
A small nip at the sensitive skin, makes you yelp in surprise. Biting your lip as you feel flushed.
He growls lowly, “Let me show you just how much I love you”
“Oh yeah?” you ask softly.
Pulling back just enough for you to see the smirk on his face, a teasing drawl slips from his mouth “Afterall, your shirt does ask me to bite you”
And in a moment you are embraced by him completely.
As Brendon shows you just how much he loves you.
Hands worshipping every inch of you.
Relishing each sigh and gasp from your mouth.
Brendon Park. The Shark. Would never be described as soft, or overly warm.
But for you.
That was a side he was willing to dive into. Plunging into the depths of love with you was easy.
Was freeing.
It made him feel alive.
To the little quirky jokes you made.
To your laughter as it filled his home.
The brightness of your smiles.
To the softness of your touches.
Brendon relished in it all and craved it with a ferocity.
He loved you.
Without question.
Without hesitation.
And if that meant wearing a pyjama shirt with a shark on it.
Then so be it.
Even if the change was small.
It was clear to most at PTMC that Park had changed. That his demeanor had altered ever so slightly.
“Wow good job Huckleberry, Shark didn’t bite your head off,” Santos quipped, leant against the desk as Dennis sanitizes his hands.
“Yeah, it was weird. I even stumbled on something he had definitely yelled at me for previously, but he just corrected it, not a single glare,” Whitaker replied. Confusion colouring his features.
Whitaker says aloud brows furrowed in thought, “Come to think of it–he hasn’t nearly been as cold as he used to be”
“Take the win, you can walk after crossing paths with him,” Javadi remarked tiredly. Just waiting for hand-offs to be over.
“A few months ago I swear I saw him make an intern cry,” she added.
Raising a brow towards her, “Crash, we know that was you”
“It could’ve happened to anyone!” she protested.
A laugh cuts through the conversation.
Santos cranes her neck, catching sight of Dana, Robby and a woman talking.
Happily. Easily.
A dark blue thermos in hand.
Whilst you, the mysterious woman nod along to whatever story Dana is sharing.
Noting the way you elbow Robby as you laugh from a joke he’d made.
Santos’ eyes narrow at the sight, drawing Whitaker’s and Javadi’s attention to the trio on the other side.
“Hey, who do you think that is?”
“Who? Her?” Whitaker tilts his head.
Santos slaps his arm, “Hey don’t be obvious”
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“Well she seems pretty friendly with Robby, don’t think I’ve seen her around before–maybe she’s his girlfriend?” Javadi offers.
Santos tugs on the arm of a passing Mohan, jutting her head, “Hey do you know who that is?”
Mohan twists her mouth into a frown as she thinks, “Can’t say I do. But it could be anyone really, maybe from another department…” her words trail off, as her eyes widen.
Exiting the lift.
In stalks the infamous Shark.
Eyes scan the space before landing on the very trio Santos had been talking about.
“Oh my–” Javadi murmurs, mouth gaping. As they watch in shock.
Brendon’s hand slipping around your waist, a chaste kiss pressed to your head. Your smile widening as he plants himself beside you.
He offers the smallest of nods to the other two. Dana unable to hide the gleam in her eye from the sight of you both.
She was happy for you both.
It was clear you were good for each other.
And Robby would be lying if he said he didn’t see a shift in the way Park carried himself.
No longer biting when it was unnecessary. Instead slightly, just slightly, a little more compassionate…patient.
All because of you.
And the effect you had on him.
Murmuring softly in greeting, eyes filled with love, as you pass him the thermos. “I brought you some tea”
“Thanks, sweetheart”
Turning your attention back to the others, “Well it was really nice seeing you both again, I’ll definitely have to have you over our house another time.”
“I look forward to it, hun,” Dana nods.
As Robby agrees.
Eyes lifting to glance at Park with a small smile, “See you tomorrow”
Park only offers a curt nod. Simply itching to go home, to curl up with you in his arms.
Walking side by side, his arm securely wrapped around your waist.
Passing by the huddled group of young doctors.
Completely unaware of their speculations. Or just how you had shaken their very understanding of the very misunderstood Shark of PTMC.
They catch a glimpse of the deep blue sapphire ring sparkling upon your finger.
And as soon as you both leave their sight.
They take a moment to have a break down.
“What the fuck?”
“Did you guys know about this?”
“Are you kidding me? Even Park has a social life outside of work?”
All sighing and muttering their shock.
They all swarm around Dana and Robby.
“Who was that?”
Dana’s brows raise, while she shares a look with Robby who merely laughs with a shake of his head, leaving to continue hand offs.
She mutters out the word traitor while he leaves.
She feigns ignorance, “Who was who?”
“You know, the woman! The woman that just walked out with Shark like it was no big deal!” Santos elaborated.
“Oh that woman”
“Yes!”
“That was Park’s fiancee”
“FIANCEE!!”
Dana nods with a small hum. “Yup”
“And we’re all just cool with that? No surprise there? Shouldn’t check on her to make sure she’s not being held against her will?” Javadi rambles.
“We’re all cool with it,” she replies.
“Cool, cool. Cool,” Javadi nods, as she and Mohan lose their cool.
“She seemed nice,” Whitaker speaks up.
“She is. Very nice.” Dana affirms.
Mel interjects as she catches word of the conversation, “Is that why he hasn’t bitten any of our heads off lately?”
“Probably.” Dana responds, before her brows furrow, “Now don’t you all have other things besides gossiping, like, I don’t know, hand-offs?”
They stand up straighter and scurry away.
Leaving Dana to chuckle from their antics.
It was true.
Your presence in Park’s life has really changed him for the better.
He was certainly a nicer colleague because of it.
And you hosted great dinner parties.
It was truly a win-win situation.
And you wouldn’t change it.
Nestled in bed, cosy and warm.
Dressed in your shark themed pyjamas, that still brought a smile to your face each time you wore them.
Small little love bites trailing your skin.
Marks of his affection.
Sighing as you sleep soundly in his arms.
Well loved.
And safe.
In the arms of a Shark.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little fic ♥️ it's always fun when Brendon's relationship can stun the hospital. But also just how sweet is the idea of him softening for his partner, and literally wearing a shark themed shirt to sleep! (ugh love it) - also you can bet that you insist on having some of Brendon's colleagues over for dinner, like Dana and Robby, and they totally watch him become absolute putty for you. Let me know what you thought.
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
Help yourself and check out my other Pitt Works on My Masterlist Here!
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This is a little fic for @domaystic
Based on day 14: Startled By Sudden Appearance
The only one able to break your concentration.
Is the very Shark of the hospital.
Though he might strike fear into the hearts of the other staff, as they steer clear.
In your eyes, it is a sweet and welcomed distraction.
Notes: wholesome fluff. just two people in love. established relationship.
Word Count: ~940
Everyone around you knew that when you had that certain look in your eye.
That tenseness in your shoulders.
Eyes barely lifting from your screen.
That they shouldn't disturb you.
Well…
It’s not that they shouldn’t disturb you.
It was just that.
They couldn’t disturb you while you were in that state.
As you were so completely enthralled by your charting.
They could try and pull you away.
But you’d simply swiftly delegate whatever went your way.
But the only thing that would draw your attention away was an emergency trauma in need of all hands on deck.
And recently they discovered another thing.
The only other thing to pull your attention.
…Dr Brendon Park
The Shark of PTMC.
The ortho surgeon that could sniff blood in the water. That cruised through the choppy waters of the ER.
It was a rare sight to see him come down.
But when he did.
It was as though his presence parted the seas.
A hush would fall over the staff as soon as he’d step out of the elevator.
Med students and interns would scatter away. Wide eyed and bitten lips, rushing to leave his line of sight.
Murmurs between nurses would hum, just barely audible but the words were always the same.
Questioning glances and raised brows.
“Who called for a consult?”
“Didn’t think we’d see him here today?”
“What is he doing here?”
Whispers would pass around the room. A faint buzz beneath the beeping and hurried steps and all the other noises of the ER.
But it never fazed him.
Eyes unbothered.
His jaw tense.
As sharp as a knife.
But then the source of his interest.
The reason for his visit came to light.
As everyone mumbled quietly, “Of course”
The surprise had since dissipated and had melted into a state of disbelief.
They still couldn’t believe it.
You.
The lovely, the sweet, the dedicated, resident they loved to work with.
You.
Were the one that had ensnared Park.
You had caught him in your net without ever meaning to.
And no one there could begin to understand how. Or why you had given him a chance.
But that didn’t matter to either of you.
The only ones who needed to know.
Were you and Brendon.
With a coffee in hand, he approaches you, not giving anyone else the time of day.
Your attention is completely consumed by your charting.
Only for you to practically jump out of your chair, almost sliding off, it it weren’t for the hand on your back to steady you.
The same hand that had shaken you from your state.
Startled by the sudden feel of a large, gentle hand across your back.
You suck in a harsh breath, a small squeak escapes you as you clasp at your chest in shock.
Turning to see the source of your disruption.
Only for your raised brows to soften.
Your lips widen into a smile at the sight of him.
“Hey” he lowly greeted, the soft timbre of his voice settling in your chest. Warming you from within.
His hand steady on your back, a small quirk of his lip from your reaction.
Amusement shining in his clear blue eyes.
“What’re you doing here? Thought you’d be in surgery right now?” you questioned blinking in surprise.
“Just finished, thought I’d come by and bring you a coffee,” he offered the cup in his other hand, as your fingers curled around it, barely brushing his fingers across yours.
Smiling into the cup you take a sip, as the warm aromas flood your mouth with a sigh of delight escaping you. Shoulder’s slumping at ease.
“Aren’t you sweet,” your eyes flicked up to meet his eye. While he leaned against the desk you were at.
“We still on for dinner tonight?” He asked.
Pulling a cheeky teasing smile, you remark, “Only if we manage to get out on time”
“As if anything would keep me from it,” he stated, as though it should be obvious to you. His fondness for you, only having grown more since you started dating.
Leaning back into your chair, “I can think of a number of problems that might keep us here,” you retort.
Clicking his tongue, he ducks his head lower to meet yours, voice deep and low as though it rumbled from the very depths of his chest, “None would be a good enough reason to stay away from you”
His lips meet yours, soft, with just the faint roughness that was so very him. The smallest nip of his teeth across your lip.
And then all too soon. He pulls away.
“I’ll see you later”
“Not if I see you first,” you press a kiss to his cheek, as he hand lingers on your back for just a moment before he eventually lets his feet move.
The composure he usually carried now formed once more. Steely and cold. Any presence of softness all left behind with you.
His only weakness as it seemed.
And your only distraction.
As he was the only person who could ever pull your attention away when you were knee deep in charting.
A mystery those of the Pitt still couldn’t quite decipher.
But as they passed you by.
As you happily sipped on your coffee, a wide smile spread across your face.
Eyes gleaming in delight. A new vigor in your movements. A chipper note to your voice.
They didn’t need to understand how or why.
As they saw you beaming with joy.
They understood that it was true.
That it was good.
That you and Park.
The Shark of PTMC.
Had a good thing going for you both.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Brendon being a thoughtful partner is always fun to explore! ♥️ Let me know what you thought.
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"I can practically feel your eyes on me" ... "I am looking respectfully" ... "You are absolutely not" ... "No I am not"
The moment where Abbot falls for the biomedical equipment technician that works nights at PTMC. And exploring where it all leads. With an impromptu breakfast date to something so much more.
Warnings: not really any? little bit of strong language, no specified age gap (like it could or couldn't exist), fluff, mild mentions of Jack's trauma (just super vague), slight secret relationship.
Word Count: ~ 2.3k
It was the twilight hours of the ER.
When a ventilator was discovered to be malfunctioning.
Thankfully they had an additional available vent. However with one down it was certainly not ideal.
It was in times like these that you were called down.
PTMC’s biomedical equipment technician.
Well one of a few.
You were a prowler of the night. Checking on equipment regularly, tweaking items before they broke beyond repair.
You were the doctor of medical equipment. A lifesaver in a way that wasn’t always recognised. And you tended to prefer that.
Slipping along the outskirts. Keeping to yourself. As you put your head to work.
Well that was how it started.
Until you had caught the eye of a certain attending, as you had finished fixing a portable X-ray machine. One that had all its visuals getting entangled with itself.
Your quiet demeanour, and diligent nature captured Abbot’s attention.
He hadn’t remembered seeing you before, always busy in the midst of another meltdown. One that was typical for the night shift.
However in this brief moment.
He had noticed you.
Catching your eye as you wandered back upstairs, back to whatever other piece of medical equipment that needed a little TLC.
It was by the third time you had visited that Abbot willed himself to speak with you.
A choice that he only wished he made sooner.
That conversation had turned into another, and another after that. Until you had finally handed him a slip of paper as you left, waltzing into the lift only to mouth the words ‘call me’.
His eyes never left yours as the doors closed.
A quirk of his lips turns into a full blown smile as his fingers unfolded the paper. And scrawled upon the slip, as though done in a haste before one could back out.
Was a set of numbers and a little heart.
Tenderly tracing the penned numbers before tucking it into his chest pocket.
At the end of his shift he might’ve instinctively reached for the paper.
Hands moving before he could think, as he dialled in your number.
It rings for a moment.
The time between each ring felt as though they lasted for far longer than a few seconds.
Until soon a muffled noise echoes through.
“This is Y/N, speak before I hit snooze” your voice responded, a small yawn escaping you.
He had let the question escape him before all courage left his bones, “I was wondering if you’d like to get some breakfast?”
The pause stretches out.
A beat.
A moment of silence too deafening to bear.
A faint tapping heard instead. Like footsteps?
And then a light touch is felt on his shoulder.
Turning he sees you as you hang up the phone.
Smiling softly at him, you finally answer, “I’d love to”
Eyes softened at the sight of you, as his lips quirked up at the corners.
Sure, you both looked a little tired, a slight depth settling beneath your eyes. As he felt a heaviness beneath his own eyes.
Hair probably not the most neat, carding his fingers through his own locks to tame the curls.
A light stubble stippled his jaw.
It was a long night for you both.
And yet in this moment now.
You were more awake than ever. Not wanting to be anywhere else but in his company.
Walking into step, as you began to chatter away.
Eventually reaching a nearby cafe. Nestling into a little booth.
And during the time where you should’ve both been sleeping.
You were instead laughing loudly, freely. Smiling widely. Brushing hands. Feeling energised by each touch. With each graze of his fingers.
Until your yawns became too prevalent. His own eyelids drooped as the hours passed.
About to part ways, a feeling of boldness overtakes you. Leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his cheek.
Turning away, your wrist is caught by the gentle firmness of his grasp.
Tugging you slightly back towards him. Hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Eyes searching yours for permission, furrowed and tentative. His thumb just barely swipes across your lips.
Your breath hitches. Heart racing. Mind blank.
And then.
You nod.
Slight, small. But it was there.
Permission for what happened next.
And in a second Jack’s lips are against yours. Forehead leant against yours, noses brushing, as his other hand cups the other side of your face. Steady and soft.
His hands were so warm, gentle despite feeling hardened by his work the slight callouses rough against your skin.
You simply melt from the contact.
But he pulls back, leaving you to blink rapidly shaken from your hazed state while you lean in to follow only for him to be startled by his own actions, “I’m sorry– are you su–”
His doubts, whatever they were, are trapped in his mouth as you lean in, hands slipping around his neck, pulling him down to you.
Savouring the taste of his lips, the slight saltiness from the bacon he had just eaten, mingling with the sweetness of the maple syrup that you had drizzled on your own pancakes.
Humming in content, you sigh against his lips.
Pulling apart ever so slightly, his voice hoarse, “If I knew that breakfast would’ve ended like that, I would’ve asked you sooner”
Giggling softly from his words you retort, “Maybe we could have a few more breakfast dates?”
“Oh so this was a date?” he asked cheekily.
“Maybe,” you respond, while your fingers curl the ends of his locks. As a shiver runs down his spine. “Only if you’d like it to be?”
“I would,” he confirmed with a small nod.
Stepping apart you grin, “Then I’ll see you for our next date, Jack”
“Not if I don’t see you first,” he waved.
And that was the beginning of your newfound relationship with Dr Jack Abbot.
The night shift attending that had you feeling like breakfast was the most romantic time of day.
…
“I can practically feel your eyes on me,” You said without even glancing away from your spot.
Leaning down slightly, all whilst fiddling with the wires of the ventilator machine you had been called down to fix.
It was a simple job really.
If not a little tricky to reach.
Leading to your position now, giving Jack, full view of you to admire.
“I’m looking respectfully,” he offers half-heartedly, cheekily.
You turn slightly, shooting him a raised brow, “You are absolutely not”
With very little shame. No sense in denying your words. He responds, “No I am not”
As you shake your head with a small smile, moving to get back to work.
“I can’t believe you”
“Oh yes you can,” he chuckles. Walking over to stand beside you. Handing you tools as you go to reach for them from your toolbox.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you broke this yourself just to see me,” you muttered.
“It would be a small price to pay,” he quipped, with a smirk.
With a small grin forming on your face, you remarked, “You would think that way, wouldn’t you.”
“I can’t help it if my girlfriend is extremely sexy when she’s at work,” he states, voice low as he leans in, words for your ears only with a non-chalance that has your face burning.
His hand is placed upon your back, whilst you turn in his hold to face him fully. Admiring him. Just as you had done many times before. His eyes softened as he gazed into your eyes.
You and Jack had been together for almost a year now.
And despite not wanting to jinx yourself.
This felt undeniably real.
It felt like something tangible.
As you both dove right in.
Breakfast dates after long nights at PTMC. Days off spent doing the little mundane things that had your mind spinning just from his company. To the evenings off where he would cook you dinner, heartwarming and comforting.
Breaking through to each other.
His quips and wit, used as a shield to conceal his deepest insecurities, to lighten the pain he feels. It begins to melt away with each kiss you pepper him with.
He lets down his guard with you.
To the times where you slept side by side, as he tossed and turned from nightmares that plagued his dreams every so often. Your voice gently coaxes him out of it. As his heart races, breathing unsteady.
You sit with him in the discomfort. In the unease.
There as an open ear.
There to listen when the pain became unbearable. When the loss of his leg made him feel small, incomplete.
When the phantom pains crept in you were there, reaching over before he could ask. Gentle hands rubbing nerve cream upon the spot causing him such pain.
In those quiet moments that he used to handle alone.
He now no longer has to carry the burden by himself.
Just as he helps you in difficult times. In times where you feel small, when the world feels too loud, or as the slightest things tip you over the edge.
He is there to hold and love you.
To the tender evenings or early mornings where you lay together, his arm wrapped around you securely. Just breathing in the soft scent of you, that makes him feel drunk from your presence.
Standing side by side upon the rooftop of the hospital, eyes scanning the horizon as your hand slips into his.
Quiet. But reassuring.
Waiting for him. Standing by him as the thoughts in his mind filter in and out. Thoughts he did his best to keep inside.
Only for him to spill everything he thought was the very worst of him. The most unlovable.
Simply for you to turn and look at him with that look that made him feel as though he was the most beautiful man in the world.
A title he did not in fact think he deserved.
But you gave him your heart, just as you had taken his. To hold and to keep.
Fights over the smaller things.
Over things that were long forgotten after a few days. Hours even.
Finding middle ground when it came to the big picture. Your lives began to coincide.
To the point where–
“Since when were you two together?” Ellis asks, pulling back the curtain only to find you and Jack standing very close together.
Too close for just coworkers.
Shen presses his hands together, lips pursed tight as he asks, “With all due respect. What the fuck?”
You raise a brow towards Jack, as you both laugh.
Neither of you had planned to keep this a secret.
In fact you weren’t.
Oftentimes your hands would drift to each other despite being at work. Sending him winks from across the room. Murmuring little I love yous throughout.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my dating life was any of your concern?” Jack arched a brow, biting back the wolfish grin threatening to spread across his lips.
“How did you not know?” Crus said as he passed the group, “They do a shit job at hiding it”
Lena nods from the hub, not sparing them a glance. “Those two are always sending each other looks from across the room, you’d think we were in Grey’s Anatomy with the tension those two give off”
Ellis and Shen only blink in shock. Pointing a finger at the two of you.
Leaning into Jack’s side. As your head rests on his shoulder. Glee sparkling in your eyes, amused by them, “We’ve been together for almost a year now. Maybe you two need to get some glasses or something”
Jack bites his lip at your wit, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.
A small buzzing comes from your pocket, with a sigh you step away from him, as his hand slips into yours. Wanting to keep you for just a little longer.
“Duty calls,” you shrug, your pager alerting you of another piece of tech that needed a bit of TLC.
The others disperse, as Jack tugs you back into him, pressing a brief kiss on your lips, murmuring against them.
“Breakfast at mine, sound good to you?”
A smile forms on your lips. “Oh it’s yours now? I thought it was ours”
“I like that, breakfast at ours,” he sighs as he says that aloud, “I could get used to that”
“Good, cause I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon,” you peck his lip.
Pulling away as you send him one final look, “I’ll see you in the morning”
“Can’t wait”
“Careful Jack, someone might think you’re in love or something,” you tease. Knowing full well you were both well and truly in it.
“Let ‘em think that,” he grins, before it softens into a sweet smile, reserved for your eyes only. “It’d only be a fraction of what I feel for you”
“Love you” you call back, grasping onto your tools.
“Love you too,” he replied.
Not once.
Not in a million years.
Did Jack ever think he’d get another chance at love.
A chance at a future with someone to cherish and love by his side.
But with each day spent with you.
The possibilities of a future that was bright. That was lively. That was full of love.
That was a future that was growing more and more real with each passing day.
And respectfully.
He didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought. Whether they saw him being soft. Or overly sweet.
Because in all honesty.
You deserved to be loved in the deepest ways possible.
In the most sincere and heartfelt.
He couldn’t wait for more moments spent with you.
So he could spend his time loving you in all the ways that you deserved.
So long as you’d let him.
He’d be there.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! it was inspired by a prompt from @writersisland which can be found here! I had fun writing this little fic, where the two of them are a little cheeky towards each other (once again I am a sucker for fluff, so yeah 💗) Let me know what you think.
Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕
Feel free to find my Dr Jack Abbot x Reader Who Would've Thought series here
Feel free to find my Dr Robby x Wayne!Reader Rinse & Repeat Series Masterlist here 🩺
Or check out my overall Masterlist here
