Tags (the Pitt): @sexychickenmagnet @thehockeynerd30 @woderfulkawaii @renegadebirch
Tags (Brendon Park): @darknessofhell666-blog-blog
Tags (Sid x the Pitt): @readersassemble5 @sexychickenmagnet @renegadebirch @jesswriteswrongs @dancerbailey3 @kitnootkat
Tags (Pope Cody): @darknessofhell666-blog-blog
Tags (Johnny Storm): @lunaseleneceleste
Disclosures: I am NOT a professional writer. I am quite literally the opposite. All feedback is welcome, if you can be kind about it! This is a safe space and all requests are welcome, if I am not comfortable with it I won’t write it. I also write as I’m inspired so it might take me a while to get to your requests!
✨fluff 🔥smut ‼️angst ⚠️ trigger warning
dividers by @reezer9x and @diviniyae
@/xreader1989 I do not give permission for my work to be reuploaded, translated, or copied across any platforms.
The three times you think Jack is keeping you a secret and the one time he proves he’s not.
You stared at the lunch on the counter for a long minute before deciding on whether or not to do it.
You grabbed the bag and your keys before you could change your mind. Jack was covering days. Between the usual night shifts and the extra day shifts, he was exhausted.
The drive to the hospital was short, and when you hopped out of your car, you realized you had never been here before. You had only been seeing each other a few months, and a work visit in the middle of the night wasn’t your typical forte.
You pulled your phone out and called him.
“Sweetheart? Is something wrong? Is everything okay?” His voice rang through, worried.
“Oh yeah, you just forgot your lunch, I’m outside. I don’t know where I should go in?” You said tentatively.
“Um, give me ten and I can come find you,” he said quickly.
“I don't mind coming in, I can leave it with someone,” you suggested.
“No,” he said quickly. “Um, no, no need.”
He hung up the phone.
Was it the hospital? He didn't want you seeing the everyday horrors he tried to keep you away from? That had to be it.
But you couldn't help the feeling of insecurity that started to bubble in your stomach. Did he not want you to meet everyone? Was there someone specifically he didn't want you to meet?
Ten minutes stretched into nearly twenty.
You stood awkwardly near the front entrance, watching doctors and nurses weave in and out of the automatic doors. Every few seconds someone laughed with a coworker or stopped to hug a family member before heading inside.
Finally, Jack jogged through the doors.
“There you are,” he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before taking the paper bag from your hands.
“You okay?" he asked.
“Yeah,” you said, plastering an easy going smile on your face.
“You didn't have to drive all the way here,” he said, his eyes holding your gaze.
You shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, love,” he said quietly,
There was another awkward pause.
You glanced toward the lobby. “So... this is where you disappear every night.”
He laughed softly, “pretty much.”
Then his pager went off.
“I have to get back in there, I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” he gave you a quick kiss before all but running back inside.
And then he was gone before you even had the chance to ask him how his shift was going.
You watched him disappear through the sliding doors.
Not once had he turned around.
It was almost two months later when the phone call incident occurred.
“Your phone is ringing!” you yelled from the kitchen, but to no avail.
Jack was taking his post-shift shower, probably enjoying the hot water and a moment of peace.
So, you put the phone to your ear and answered, “hello?”
“Jack— oh, sorry... who is this?” A man's voice carried through the speaker.
You said your name, only to be met with a moment of silence.
“Who?” he asked quickly, but before you could respond, he answered himself, “actually, it's okay. Can you just tell him Shen called?”
Shen.
His coworker.
You'd heard his name in dozens of stories.
You don’t think he meant to sound dismissive or rude, but it was coming off that way.
You tried to keep your voice light, “um, yeah.”
“K thanks,” the line clicked dead.
Your mind spiraled so quickly you hadn't heard the water shut off or your boyfriend pad into the kitchen.
“Honey?” He came up behind you, nearly startling you.
His grey curls were damp on his forehead, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips.
He was so unfairly attractive you almost forgot why your chest suddenly felt tight.
“Shen called,” you said quietly, “he asked you to call him back.”
Jack reached for his phone without thinking, “thanks.”
He noticed your expression almost immediately, “you okay?”
Years of reading people and their injuries as a doctor left very little room for you to get stuff past him.
You hesitated, “does Shen know about me?”
Jack looked up, “what?”
He took a deep breath, hating how crazy you felt, “he didn’t know who I was… when I picked up the phone.”
He blinked.
You tried to laugh, “it was just kind of awkward.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “I don't really talk about... my personal life at work.”
The words landed heavier than he intended. He opened his mouth to continue his explanation, but you interrupted.
“It’s okay,” you said with a practiced smile, “I get it.”
Because he'd met your coworkers, your friends, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely keeping you separate from the rest of his life.
Maybe this was more serious for you than it was for him?
Everyone important in your life knew him by name.
Yet somehow the people he spent twelve hours a day with had never even heard yours.
The third time nearly sent you into a psychosis.
The coffee shop was small and quaint.
It was the perfect blend of comfort and actually good coffee, which was hard to find these days while living in a world of eleven dollar lattes.
When you got your drink, you nearly walked into the woman standing behind you.
She had bright blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail and looked like she commanded any room she walked into.
You mumbled a polite apology, and as you stepped around her, your eyes caught the PTMC badge clipped to her scrub top.
Dana Evans.
Jack's stories made this woman sound like an absolute force of nature.
You felt like you were standing before a celebrity, “oh my god... Dana?”
You felt a pang of embarrassment as you just acted like a fan sitting in front of their favorite actress.
She looked up with an amused smiled, “I’m sorry, hun. Do I know you?”
You laughed nervously, “um no, I’m sorry. I’m Jack— Jack Abbott’s girlfriend.”
The smile on Dana's face froze, “night shift attending Jack?”
You nodded, suddenly feeling hyper aware of every movement you were making, “yeah.” You felt so small.
Dana's eyebrows lifted just enough that anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed, “you have a boyfriend named Jack Abbott?” she asked carefully.
You nodded again, not sure how much clearer you could be.
She smiled politely.
“It was nice meeting you,” you said, before walking around her. You decided to spare yourself any further humiliation.
No, I've heard so much about you.
No, the pictures don’t do you justice!
No, Jack finally found someone.
No, You're the girl he disappears to after shifts.
Nothing.
She hadn't even known he had a girlfriend.
You got into your car and placed your head on the top of the steering wheel, willing yourself to not spiral.
Maybe he was just private.
Or maybe you weren't as important to him as he was to you. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. So, you drove to his apartment. You were supposed to meet him there anyways, might as well get this over with now.
The apartment was quiet when Jack came home.
You were curled up on one end of the couch with a book open in your lap, though he was fairly certain you hadn't turned a page since he'd unlocked the front door.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
You accepted it, but your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.
His brow furrowed, “you okay?”
“Can we talk?” You asked quietly.
You could see him tense as he sat down on the couch next to you, “yeah. What's going on?”
You looked down at your hands, “I met Dana today.”
His eyebrows lifted, “what?”
“At that coffee shop I like, by the park,” you explained, “I recognized her because you talk about her all the time. And I saw her badge and it clicked.”
He smiled faintly, “that sounds about right.”
“I introduced myself to her.”
The smile faded.
“I said I was your girlfriend,” you took a deep breath, “and she had no idea who I was.”
Jack was quiet for a moment, “I don't really talk about my personal life at work.”
“I know that,” your voice cracked despite your best effort to keep it steady, “you told me that after Shen called.”
“So—”
“So I'm trying to understand why,” you interrupted him.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
You scoffed at his silence, growing frustrated, “you spend twelve hours a day with these people.”
He nodded.
“They know what coffee you drink, they know you’re a veteran, that you’re from Boston,” you looked up and held his gaze, “am I right?”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded.
“But they don’t know you have a girlfriend?” You sounded small again, the same way you did with Dana in the coffee shop.
“It makes me feel like I’m a secret, from something or someone, I don’t know,” you ran a hand down your face.
His head snapped toward you, “what?”
You laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it.
“I honestly started wondering if you were embarrassed by me,” you admitted.
His face fell, “what?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “no because that's insane. It shouldn't even be a thought in your head.”
“Well it is.” You said firmly.
Silence settled between you.
He exhaled heavily, “I never wanted you to think that."
You looked at him with a blank face, “then… why?”
He took a minute to think before looking up at you again, “because you're mine.”
You blinked, “what?”
He shook his head, “not mine like…” He sighed, “god, that sounded terrible.”
You gave him a tight lipped smile, “it did.”
He huffed a laugh, searching for the right words, “my job is loud. Everyone is in everyones business, in and out of the hospital. It’s like a pit of gossips and rumors.”
You listened without interrupting.
“I hated the idea of anyone making judgement about me and you before getting to know you. You’re younger than me it’s no secret, sweetheart,” he glanced over at you, “I just wanted you for myself.”
You reached out and grabbed one of his hands in yours.
“I liked having one thing that belonged outside those walls, to me and only me,” he looked at his hand in yours.
“I didn't want everyone talking about you… or us,” his shoulders slumped, “so... I just never mentioned it.”
You were quiet for a long moment, “I can understand that.”
He looked hopeful.
“But they don't even know my name,” you said quietly.
He nearly winced at how sad it sounded, how hurt you sounded.
He looked at you again, “I was so worried about protecting what we have that I never stopped to think what it looked like from your side.”
A sad smile tugged at your lips, “it looked like you didn't want anyone to know I existed.”
He scooted close, taking your other hand, so he had both of them, “I hate that I made you feel that way. I love you, so much.”
He laughed quietly at himself, “I guess I got a little selfish.”
“Selfish?”
“I liked having you all to myself,” his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
He smiled sheepishly, “i didn't realize keeping you to myself also meant pushing you away from this huge part of my life.”
You softened slightly at his words, “you really weren't hiding me?”
He looked almost offended by the thought, “honey,” he leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. “I’ve been trying to convince myself you're real since the day you agreed to go out with me.”
A tiny laugh escapes you and you smiled, despite yourself.
He kissed your forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Less than a week later, things felt better than they ever had before.
“Get dressed,” Jack called from the bedroom.
You looked up from your phone as you were sprawled out on his couch. You went to question him, but he answered before you could, like he read your mind.
“I promised Robby I'd stop by O'Malley's after shift,” he said casually from the bathroom, “I want you to come.”
You blinked, “really?”
He looked confused, “yeah.”
You locked your phone and put it down, getting up and walking to the doorway of the bathroom.
“And you’re not just inviting me because you think that’s what I want? Because of the talk we had last week?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
He smiled at you, “no honey, I want you to come.”
You nodded, biting back the excited smile, “okay, I’m gonna go change.”
The drive there was quiet on your end, you couldn’t help the nerves that were eating at you.
Jack rested one hand on your thigh the entire way, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb while he told you about his day.
By the time you walked into the crowded neighborhood bar, your nerves had settled deeper into your stomach.
“You made it!” Robby called from the high-top table.
Dana looked over first. Then Shen. Then Lena.
There was a younger group huddled close to them, also hospital workers you assumed.
All four of them watched Jack approach.
“Everyone,” he said easily, “this is my girlfriend.”
Robby slapped the table, “we finally get to meet this mystery woman that makes him smile at his phone.”
He leaned over and kissed your cheek in front of everyone.
Robby lifted his beer, “to Jack finally showing human emotion!”
Dana rolled her eyes and Lena smiled into her drink.
The banter continued, and you even joined in on it when it felt right. Jack bought you a drink, and all your worries suddenly felt far far away.
For the first time since you'd stood outside the hospital with a forgotten lunch in your hands, that knot in your chest loosened.
The three times you think Jack is keeping you a secret and the one time he proves he’s not.
You stared at the lunch on the counter for a long minute before deciding on whether or not to do it.
You grabbed the bag and your keys before you could change your mind. Jack was covering days. Between the usual night shifts and the extra day shifts, he was exhausted.
The drive to the hospital was short, and when you hopped out of your car, you realized you had never been here before. You had only been seeing each other a few months, and a work visit in the middle of the night wasn’t your typical forte.
You pulled your phone out and called him.
“Sweetheart? Is something wrong? Is everything okay?” His voice rang through, worried.
“Oh yeah, you just forgot your lunch, I’m outside. I don’t know where I should go in?” You said tentatively.
“Um, give me ten and I can come find you,” he said quickly.
“I don't mind coming in, I can leave it with someone,” you suggested.
“No,” he said quickly. “Um, no, no need.”
He hung up the phone.
Was it the hospital? He didn't want you seeing the everyday horrors he tried to keep you away from? That had to be it.
But you couldn't help the feeling of insecurity that started to bubble in your stomach. Did he not want you to meet everyone? Was there someone specifically he didn't want you to meet?
Ten minutes stretched into nearly twenty.
You stood awkwardly near the front entrance, watching doctors and nurses weave in and out of the automatic doors. Every few seconds someone laughed with a coworker or stopped to hug a family member before heading inside.
Finally, Jack jogged through the doors.
“There you are,” he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before taking the paper bag from your hands.
“You okay?" he asked.
“Yeah,” you said, plastering an easy going smile on your face.
“You didn't have to drive all the way here,” he said, his eyes holding your gaze.
You shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, love,” he said quietly,
There was another awkward pause.
You glanced toward the lobby. “So... this is where you disappear every night.”
He laughed softly, “pretty much.”
Then his pager went off.
“I have to get back in there, I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” he gave you a quick kiss before all but running back inside.
And then he was gone before you even had the chance to ask him how his shift was going.
You watched him disappear through the sliding doors.
Not once had he turned around.
It was almost two months later when the phone call incident occurred.
“Your phone is ringing!” you yelled from the kitchen, but to no avail.
Jack was taking his post-shift shower, probably enjoying the hot water and a moment of peace.
So, you put the phone to your ear and answered, “hello?”
“Jack— oh, sorry... who is this?” A man's voice carried through the speaker.
You said your name, only to be met with a moment of silence.
“Who?” he asked quickly, but before you could respond, he answered himself, “actually, it's okay. Can you just tell him Shen called?”
Shen.
His coworker.
You'd heard his name in dozens of stories.
You don’t think he meant to sound dismissive or rude, but it was coming off that way.
You tried to keep your voice light, “um, yeah.”
“K thanks,” the line clicked dead.
Your mind spiraled so quickly you hadn't heard the water shut off or your boyfriend pad into the kitchen.
“Honey?” He came up behind you, nearly startling you.
His grey curls were damp on his forehead, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips.
He was so unfairly attractive you almost forgot why your chest suddenly felt tight.
“Shen called,” you said quietly, “he asked you to call him back.”
Jack reached for his phone without thinking, “thanks.”
He noticed your expression almost immediately, “you okay?”
Years of reading people and their injuries as a doctor left very little room for you to get stuff past him.
You hesitated, “does Shen know about me?”
Jack looked up, “what?”
He took a deep breath, hating how crazy you felt, “he didn’t know who I was… when I picked up the phone.”
He blinked.
You tried to laugh, “it was just kind of awkward.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “I don't really talk about... my personal life at work.”
The words landed heavier than he intended. He opened his mouth to continue his explanation, but you interrupted.
“It’s okay,” you said with a practiced smile, “I get it.”
Because he'd met your coworkers, your friends, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely keeping you separate from the rest of his life.
Maybe this was more serious for you than it was for him?
Everyone important in your life knew him by name.
Yet somehow the people he spent twelve hours a day with had never even heard yours.
The third time nearly sent you into a psychosis.
The coffee shop was small and quaint.
It was the perfect blend of comfort and actually good coffee, which was hard to find these days while living in a world of eleven dollar lattes.
When you got your drink, you nearly walked into the woman standing behind you.
She had bright blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail and looked like she commanded any room she walked into.
You mumbled a polite apology, and as you stepped around her, your eyes caught the PTMC badge clipped to her scrub top.
Dana Evans.
Jack's stories made this woman sound like an absolute force of nature.
You felt like you were standing before a celebrity, “oh my god... Dana?”
You felt a pang of embarrassment as you just acted like a fan sitting in front of their favorite actress.
She looked up with an amused smiled, “I’m sorry, hun. Do I know you?”
You laughed nervously, “um no, I’m sorry. I’m Jack— Jack Abbott’s girlfriend.”
The smile on Dana's face froze, “night shift attending Jack?”
You nodded, suddenly feeling hyper aware of every movement you were making, “yeah.” You felt so small.
Dana's eyebrows lifted just enough that anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed, “you have a boyfriend named Jack Abbott?” she asked carefully.
You nodded again, not sure how much clearer you could be.
She smiled politely.
“It was nice meeting you,” you said, before walking around her. You decided to spare yourself any further humiliation.
No, I've heard so much about you.
No, the pictures don’t do you justice!
No, Jack finally found someone.
No, You're the girl he disappears to after shifts.
Nothing.
She hadn't even known he had a girlfriend.
You got into your car and placed your head on the top of the steering wheel, willing yourself to not spiral.
Maybe he was just private.
Or maybe you weren't as important to him as he was to you. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. So, you drove to his apartment. You were supposed to meet him there anyways, might as well get this over with now.
The apartment was quiet when Jack came home.
You were curled up on one end of the couch with a book open in your lap, though he was fairly certain you hadn't turned a page since he'd unlocked the front door.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
You accepted it, but your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.
His brow furrowed, “you okay?”
“Can we talk?” You asked quietly.
You could see him tense as he sat down on the couch next to you, “yeah. What's going on?”
You looked down at your hands, “I met Dana today.”
His eyebrows lifted, “what?”
“At that coffee shop I like, by the park,” you explained, “I recognized her because you talk about her all the time. And I saw her badge and it clicked.”
He smiled faintly, “that sounds about right.”
“I introduced myself to her.”
The smile faded.
“I said I was your girlfriend,” you took a deep breath, “and she had no idea who I was.”
Jack was quiet for a moment, “I don't really talk about my personal life at work.”
“I know that,” your voice cracked despite your best effort to keep it steady, “you told me that after Shen called.”
“So—”
“So I'm trying to understand why,” you interrupted him.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
You scoffed at his silence, growing frustrated, “you spend twelve hours a day with these people.”
He nodded.
“They know what coffee you drink, they know you’re a veteran, that you’re from Boston,” you looked up and held his gaze, “am I right?”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded.
“But they don’t know you have a girlfriend?” You sounded small again, the same way you did with Dana in the coffee shop.
“It makes me feel like I’m a secret, from something or someone, I don’t know,” you ran a hand down your face.
His head snapped toward you, “what?”
You laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it.
“I honestly started wondering if you were embarrassed by me,” you admitted.
His face fell, “what?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “no because that's insane. It shouldn't even be a thought in your head.”
“Well it is.” You said firmly.
Silence settled between you.
He exhaled heavily, “I never wanted you to think that."
You looked at him with a blank face, “then… why?”
He took a minute to think before looking up at you again, “because you're mine.”
You blinked, “what?”
He shook his head, “not mine like…” He sighed, “god, that sounded terrible.”
You gave him a tight lipped smile, “it did.”
He huffed a laugh, searching for the right words, “my job is loud. Everyone is in everyones business, in and out of the hospital. It’s like a pit of gossips and rumors.”
You listened without interrupting.
“I hated the idea of anyone making judgement about me and you before getting to know you. You’re younger than me it’s no secret, sweetheart,” he glanced over at you, “I just wanted you for myself.”
You reached out and grabbed one of his hands in yours.
“I liked having one thing that belonged outside those walls, to me and only me,” he looked at his hand in yours.
“I didn't want everyone talking about you… or us,” his shoulders slumped, “so... I just never mentioned it.”
You were quiet for a long moment, “I can understand that.”
He looked hopeful.
“But they don't even know my name,” you said quietly.
He nearly winced at how sad it sounded, how hurt you sounded.
He looked at you again, “I was so worried about protecting what we have that I never stopped to think what it looked like from your side.”
A sad smile tugged at your lips, “it looked like you didn't want anyone to know I existed.”
He scooted close, taking your other hand, so he had both of them, “I hate that I made you feel that way. I love you, so much.”
He laughed quietly at himself, “I guess I got a little selfish.”
“Selfish?”
“I liked having you all to myself,” his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
He smiled sheepishly, “i didn't realize keeping you to myself also meant pushing you away from this huge part of my life.”
You softened slightly at his words, “you really weren't hiding me?”
He looked almost offended by the thought, “honey,” he leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. “I’ve been trying to convince myself you're real since the day you agreed to go out with me.”
A tiny laugh escapes you and you smiled, despite yourself.
He kissed your forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Less than a week later, things felt better than they ever had before.
“Get dressed,” Jack called from the bedroom.
You looked up from your phone as you were sprawled out on his couch. You went to question him, but he answered before you could, like he read your mind.
“I promised Robby I'd stop by O'Malley's after shift,” he said casually from the bathroom, “I want you to come.”
You blinked, “really?”
He looked confused, “yeah.”
You locked your phone and put it down, getting up and walking to the doorway of the bathroom.
“And you’re not just inviting me because you think that’s what I want? Because of the talk we had last week?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
He smiled at you, “no honey, I want you to come.”
You nodded, biting back the excited smile, “okay, I’m gonna go change.”
The drive there was quiet on your end, you couldn’t help the nerves that were eating at you.
Jack rested one hand on your thigh the entire way, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb while he told you about his day.
By the time you walked into the crowded neighborhood bar, your nerves had settled deeper into your stomach.
“You made it!” Robby called from the high-top table.
Dana looked over first. Then Shen. Then Lena.
There was a younger group huddled close to them, also hospital workers you assumed.
All four of them watched Jack approach.
“Everyone,” he said easily, “this is my girlfriend.”
Robby slapped the table, “we finally get to meet this mystery woman that makes him smile at his phone.”
He leaned over and kissed your cheek in front of everyone.
Robby lifted his beer, “to Jack finally showing human emotion!”
Dana rolled her eyes and Lena smiled into her drink.
The banter continued, and you even joined in on it when it felt right. Jack bought you a drink, and all your worries suddenly felt far far away.
For the first time since you'd stood outside the hospital with a forgotten lunch in your hands, that knot in your chest loosened.
Pope Cody comes home to you, his sweet sweet sweet girlfriend. You grew up in Oceanside, beside Adrian and Deran and you’re tough. You’ve known Pope your whole life.
He loves that you call him Andy. He loves that your hands are soft but you hold your ground and know how to stand up for yourself. He’s seen you do it on more than one occasion.
J even says you’re perfect for him, because nothing gets under your skin. And you’re so goddamn stubborn. But he just does anything you ask, so it doesn’t matter.
He touches you like you’re made of glass and he’s the first person in your life to fully take care of you.
He would do anything for you. When you help out at the bar, Pope sits in a booth, nurses a beer, and watches your every move. He eyes every single man or woman that approaches you. Because he’ll be damned if anything bad happens to you.
You grew up here. You know how to use a gun. You’ve been known to get into a bar fight. But that doesn’t stop him from making you feel completely safe.
His anxieties are slightly eased when you finally move into his place and he can keep an eye on you even while you sleep. He can be there when you shower and when you read your books.
People are a little confused by you, dating an older, quiet, somewhat off putting man. But Adrian says he gets it.
He sees the way you look at each other, with the way you communicate without speaking, he takes care of you in ways a best friend hopes to see. And most importantly, Pope Cody is only soft for you.
The three times you think Jack is keeping you a secret and the one time he proves he’s not.
You stared at the lunch on the counter for a long minute before deciding on whether or not to do it.
You grabbed the bag and your keys before you could change your mind. Jack was covering days. Between the usual night shifts and the extra day shifts, he was exhausted.
The drive to the hospital was short, and when you hopped out of your car, you realized you had never been here before. You had only been seeing each other a few months, and a work visit in the middle of the night wasn’t your typical forte.
You pulled your phone out and called him.
“Sweetheart? Is something wrong? Is everything okay?” His voice rang through, worried.
“Oh yeah, you just forgot your lunch, I’m outside. I don’t know where I should go in?” You said tentatively.
“Um, give me ten and I can come find you,” he said quickly.
“I don't mind coming in, I can leave it with someone,” you suggested.
“No,” he said quickly. “Um, no, no need.”
He hung up the phone.
Was it the hospital? He didn't want you seeing the everyday horrors he tried to keep you away from? That had to be it.
But you couldn't help the feeling of insecurity that started to bubble in your stomach. Did he not want you to meet everyone? Was there someone specifically he didn't want you to meet?
Ten minutes stretched into nearly twenty.
You stood awkwardly near the front entrance, watching doctors and nurses weave in and out of the automatic doors. Every few seconds someone laughed with a coworker or stopped to hug a family member before heading inside.
Finally, Jack jogged through the doors.
“There you are,” he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before taking the paper bag from your hands.
“You okay?" he asked.
“Yeah,” you said, plastering an easy going smile on your face.
“You didn't have to drive all the way here,” he said, his eyes holding your gaze.
You shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, love,” he said quietly,
There was another awkward pause.
You glanced toward the lobby. “So... this is where you disappear every night.”
He laughed softly, “pretty much.”
Then his pager went off.
“I have to get back in there, I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” he gave you a quick kiss before all but running back inside.
And then he was gone before you even had the chance to ask him how his shift was going.
You watched him disappear through the sliding doors.
Not once had he turned around.
It was almost two months later when the phone call incident occurred.
“Your phone is ringing!” you yelled from the kitchen, but to no avail.
Jack was taking his post-shift shower, probably enjoying the hot water and a moment of peace.
So, you put the phone to your ear and answered, “hello?”
“Jack— oh, sorry... who is this?” A man's voice carried through the speaker.
You said your name, only to be met with a moment of silence.
“Who?” he asked quickly, but before you could respond, he answered himself, “actually, it's okay. Can you just tell him Shen called?”
Shen.
His coworker.
You'd heard his name in dozens of stories.
You don’t think he meant to sound dismissive or rude, but it was coming off that way.
You tried to keep your voice light, “um, yeah.”
“K thanks,” the line clicked dead.
Your mind spiraled so quickly you hadn't heard the water shut off or your boyfriend pad into the kitchen.
“Honey?” He came up behind you, nearly startling you.
His grey curls were damp on his forehead, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips.
He was so unfairly attractive you almost forgot why your chest suddenly felt tight.
“Shen called,” you said quietly, “he asked you to call him back.”
Jack reached for his phone without thinking, “thanks.”
He noticed your expression almost immediately, “you okay?”
Years of reading people and their injuries as a doctor left very little room for you to get stuff past him.
You hesitated, “does Shen know about me?”
Jack looked up, “what?”
He took a deep breath, hating how crazy you felt, “he didn’t know who I was… when I picked up the phone.”
He blinked.
You tried to laugh, “it was just kind of awkward.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “I don't really talk about... my personal life at work.”
The words landed heavier than he intended. He opened his mouth to continue his explanation, but you interrupted.
“It’s okay,” you said with a practiced smile, “I get it.”
Because he'd met your coworkers, your friends, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely keeping you separate from the rest of his life.
Maybe this was more serious for you than it was for him?
Everyone important in your life knew him by name.
Yet somehow the people he spent twelve hours a day with had never even heard yours.
The third time nearly sent you into a psychosis.
The coffee shop was small and quaint.
It was the perfect blend of comfort and actually good coffee, which was hard to find these days while living in a world of eleven dollar lattes.
When you got your drink, you nearly walked into the woman standing behind you.
She had bright blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail and looked like she commanded any room she walked into.
You mumbled a polite apology, and as you stepped around her, your eyes caught the PTMC badge clipped to her scrub top.
Dana Evans.
Jack's stories made this woman sound like an absolute force of nature.
You felt like you were standing before a celebrity, “oh my god... Dana?”
You felt a pang of embarrassment as you just acted like a fan sitting in front of their favorite actress.
She looked up with an amused smiled, “I’m sorry, hun. Do I know you?”
You laughed nervously, “um no, I’m sorry. I’m Jack— Jack Abbott’s girlfriend.”
The smile on Dana's face froze, “night shift attending Jack?”
You nodded, suddenly feeling hyper aware of every movement you were making, “yeah.” You felt so small.
Dana's eyebrows lifted just enough that anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed, “you have a boyfriend named Jack Abbott?” she asked carefully.
You nodded again, not sure how much clearer you could be.
She smiled politely.
“It was nice meeting you,” you said, before walking around her. You decided to spare yourself any further humiliation.
No, I've heard so much about you.
No, the pictures don’t do you justice!
No, Jack finally found someone.
No, You're the girl he disappears to after shifts.
Nothing.
She hadn't even known he had a girlfriend.
You got into your car and placed your head on the top of the steering wheel, willing yourself to not spiral.
Maybe he was just private.
Or maybe you weren't as important to him as he was to you. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. So, you drove to his apartment. You were supposed to meet him there anyways, might as well get this over with now.
The apartment was quiet when Jack came home.
You were curled up on one end of the couch with a book open in your lap, though he was fairly certain you hadn't turned a page since he'd unlocked the front door.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
You accepted it, but your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.
His brow furrowed, “you okay?”
“Can we talk?” You asked quietly.
You could see him tense as he sat down on the couch next to you, “yeah. What's going on?”
You looked down at your hands, “I met Dana today.”
His eyebrows lifted, “what?”
“At that coffee shop I like, by the park,” you explained, “I recognized her because you talk about her all the time. And I saw her badge and it clicked.”
He smiled faintly, “that sounds about right.”
“I introduced myself to her.”
The smile faded.
“I said I was your girlfriend,” you took a deep breath, “and she had no idea who I was.”
Jack was quiet for a moment, “I don't really talk about my personal life at work.”
“I know that,” your voice cracked despite your best effort to keep it steady, “you told me that after Shen called.”
“So—”
“So I'm trying to understand why,” you interrupted him.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
You scoffed at his silence, growing frustrated, “you spend twelve hours a day with these people.”
He nodded.
“They know what coffee you drink, they know you’re a veteran, that you’re from Boston,” you looked up and held his gaze, “am I right?”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded.
“But they don’t know you have a girlfriend?” You sounded small again, the same way you did with Dana in the coffee shop.
“It makes me feel like I’m a secret, from something or someone, I don’t know,” you ran a hand down your face.
His head snapped toward you, “what?”
You laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it.
“I honestly started wondering if you were embarrassed by me,” you admitted.
His face fell, “what?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “no because that's insane. It shouldn't even be a thought in your head.”
“Well it is.” You said firmly.
Silence settled between you.
He exhaled heavily, “I never wanted you to think that."
You looked at him with a blank face, “then… why?”
He took a minute to think before looking up at you again, “because you're mine.”
You blinked, “what?”
He shook his head, “not mine like…” He sighed, “god, that sounded terrible.”
You gave him a tight lipped smile, “it did.”
He huffed a laugh, searching for the right words, “my job is loud. Everyone is in everyones business, in and out of the hospital. It’s like a pit of gossips and rumors.”
You listened without interrupting.
“I hated the idea of anyone making judgement about me and you before getting to know you. You’re younger than me it’s no secret, sweetheart,” he glanced over at you, “I just wanted you for myself.”
You reached out and grabbed one of his hands in yours.
“I liked having one thing that belonged outside those walls, to me and only me,” he looked at his hand in yours.
“I didn't want everyone talking about you… or us,” his shoulders slumped, “so... I just never mentioned it.”
You were quiet for a long moment, “I can understand that.”
He looked hopeful.
“But they don't even know my name,” you said quietly.
He nearly winced at how sad it sounded, how hurt you sounded.
He looked at you again, “I was so worried about protecting what we have that I never stopped to think what it looked like from your side.”
A sad smile tugged at your lips, “it looked like you didn't want anyone to know I existed.”
He scooted close, taking your other hand, so he had both of them, “I hate that I made you feel that way. I love you, so much.”
He laughed quietly at himself, “I guess I got a little selfish.”
“Selfish?”
“I liked having you all to myself,” his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
He smiled sheepishly, “i didn't realize keeping you to myself also meant pushing you away from this huge part of my life.”
You softened slightly at his words, “you really weren't hiding me?”
He looked almost offended by the thought, “honey,” he leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. “I’ve been trying to convince myself you're real since the day you agreed to go out with me.”
A tiny laugh escapes you and you smiled, despite yourself.
He kissed your forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Less than a week later, things felt better than they ever had before.
“Get dressed,” Jack called from the bedroom.
You looked up from your phone as you were sprawled out on his couch. You went to question him, but he answered before you could, like he read your mind.
“I promised Robby I'd stop by O'Malley's after shift,” he said casually from the bathroom, “I want you to come.”
You blinked, “really?”
He looked confused, “yeah.”
You locked your phone and put it down, getting up and walking to the doorway of the bathroom.
“And you’re not just inviting me because you think that’s what I want? Because of the talk we had last week?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
He smiled at you, “no honey, I want you to come.”
You nodded, biting back the excited smile, “okay, I’m gonna go change.”
The drive there was quiet on your end, you couldn’t help the nerves that were eating at you.
Jack rested one hand on your thigh the entire way, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb while he told you about his day.
By the time you walked into the crowded neighborhood bar, your nerves had settled deeper into your stomach.
“You made it!” Robby called from the high-top table.
Dana looked over first. Then Shen. Then Lena.
There was a younger group huddled close to them, also hospital workers you assumed.
All four of them watched Jack approach.
“Everyone,” he said easily, “this is my girlfriend.”
Robby slapped the table, “we finally get to meet this mystery woman that makes him smile at his phone.”
He leaned over and kissed your cheek in front of everyone.
Robby lifted his beer, “to Jack finally showing human emotion!”
Dana rolled her eyes and Lena smiled into her drink.
The banter continued, and you even joined in on it when it felt right. Jack bought you a drink, and all your worries suddenly felt far far away.
For the first time since you'd stood outside the hospital with a forgotten lunch in your hands, that knot in your chest loosened.
No description of reader but she wears a dress and drinks alcohol!!!
You were annoyed to say the least.
It was just your luck that Robby picked your name out of the mug.
You were a doctor. Not a poster child.
Yet, here you were. Adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time as you walked into the gala with Robby and Parker. The annual Pittsburgh Emergency Medicine Gala, hosted by the one and only Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation.
Robby had to go, by default. And you and Parker just seemed to have that kind of luck last week.
“I’m hitting the bar,” Parker said, diverting from you both before you even made it past the entry way.
You huffed a laugh.
“I know this sucks and no one wants to be here. But remember, smiles, handshakes, and don’t abuse the open bar.” Robby patted you on the shoulder before making his way through the room with his game face on.
You sighed, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter the second Robby was out of eye shot.
You downed the first one, immediately grabbing a second one.
The one perk was that you felt beautiful. You spent your days in scrubs and your days off in athletic clothes, at most jeans and a non graphic tshirt.
You took a deep breath, scanning the room for any familiar faces.
You walked over to one of the high top tables, heels clacking on the ground, squeezing your toes uncomfortably. You leaned against the nearest table and sighed in relief. It was going to be a long night.
Robby had laid out ground rules: you each had to be there until at least 10PM, you needed to shake hands with at least four of the donors and or sponsors, and be on your best behavior.
You ran through the rules in your head, suddenly feeling small in the room full of smart doctors and rich donors.
Someone clearing their throat beside you snapped you out of your thoughts.
You startled as the tall, dark haired man with piercing hazel eyes approached you.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, approaching your high top.
You smiled, it was Sidney fucking Crosby. You couldn’t wait to rub it in Frank’s face. He had been rubbing it in yours that he didn’t have to go to this gala for the past week.
“You didn’t,” you said softly.
“I've seen that look before,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“What look?” You asked innocently.
“The 'I'd rather be literally anywhere else' look,” he said, playing with the stem of his champagne glass.
You laughed before you could stop yourself, “am I being that obvious?”
He shrugged, “a little.”
You glanced around the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, waiters floated by with silver trays, and somewhere in the corner a string quartet was valiantly trying to make the top 5 classical songs sound classy and not boring.
“I thought I was hiding it better,” you brought your champagne to your lips, taking a long sip.
“When I first saw you, you were,” Sidney said with a shrug, “but as I got closer, I saw the sigh.”
You furrowed your brows, “I sighed?”
He nodded, “it was pretty dramatic, as far as sighs go.”
You groaned, “oh no.”
You buried your face in your champagne glass for a second before taking another sip, “this is my first gala.”
His eyebrows lifted, “really?”
You nodded, “I’m only here because my attending decided dragging two residents along would ‘make the hospital look like a united front’” you made exaggerated air quotes. “Personally, I think it was stupid.”
“So you’re a doctor?” He asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, senior resident at PTMC,” you said proudly.
“So how does a senior resident end up here and not, say an intern?” He asked, suddenly invested.
“Oh, glad you asked. He drew names out of a coffee mug,” you said with a tight lipped smile.
Sidney blinked, “a coffee mug?”
You nodded.
He laughed, a real laugh this time, warm and surprisingly loud enough that a few nearby people glanced over, “a coffee mug somehow makes the situation even funnier.”
He shook his head, still smiling, “I remember my first one.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded, “yeah we’re gonna need a real drink for that one.”
He flagged a waiter down, ordering himself a whiskey and you ordered a glass of wine.
The drinks arrived swiftly.
“Cheers,” he said holding his glass towards you.
“Cheers,” you said softly with a smile, clinking your glass before taking a big sip.
“So, were you awkward?” You asked.
He chuckled, “I still am,” he took a deep breath.
“At my first gala, I was a rookie, I couldn’t even drink. So I spent the entire night sober. I got hit on by a sixty two year old lady with lipstick all in her teeth.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed.
He smiled, “and the worst part is, I was too nice to say no. So I danced with her. And the team still likes to send that grainy picture around to humble me.”
You laughed harder, “I bet it made her whole night though.”
He laughed now too, taking another sip of his drink, like he was working up the courage for something, “I hope it did, because it’ll follow me forever.”
“But you have to be a pro now. You've done... what, a million of these?”
He shrugged, taking a look around the room, “a few.”
“You must know everyone that comes to these things,” you said.
He looked around the room before lowering his voice conspiratorially, “that's actually the problem.”
You lifted your eyebrow, “do go on.”
He smiled again, “they get rather boring.”
The admission surprised you.
“They all kind of blend together after a while,” he said with a shrug.
“So you're bored?” You asked.
He looked at you, “a little.”
You grinned, “I'm bored too. And I just got here.”
“So we found our common ground,” he said proudly.
You lifted your glass, “to our mutual boredom.”
What started as a two-minute conversation somehow became thirty.
Thirty minutes suddenly became an hour.
You learned that Sidney hated small talk almost as much as you did.
He learned that emergency medicine had permanently destroyed your ability to tolerate people who complained about trivial inconveniences.
You told him your craziest night shift stories. One of which was a Penguins fan challenging a Flyers fan to a duel using baseball bats.
He laughed so hard his whiskey nearly came out his nose, “you had to have made that up.”
“I swear on my medical license. They both came in, still clutching their bats, jerseys torn and covered in blood. And when they were wheeled in on stretchers, they were still yelling at one another,” you said with a tight lipped smile, “the Penguins fan did actually say he was fighting for your honor.”
Sidney doubled over laughing and you felt butterflies. You quickly realized the crush you were harboring on the devilishly handsome athlete in front on you.
“You are making that up,” he said accusingly, but with a smile.
“Im not! I swear!” You said defensively, with a grin.
"You're making Pittsburgh sound insane,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’ve played hockey here for basically a century. You should already know that,” you quipped.
He scoffed, “how old do you think I am?”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed again.
In return, he told you stories from road trips that sounded too ridiculous to be true. You heard of forgotten passports. Pranks that were borderline evil. And who accidentally boarded the wrong team bus once.
Sidnsey shook his head, “I refuse to tell you who that was.”
“You already told me enough clues,” you said with a smirk.
“I absolutely did not,” he said.
“Letang.”
“No.”
“Malkin.”
“No.”
“Right. Because it was you,” you smirked.
He stared at you, “I'm pleading the fifth.”
You gasped dramatically, “it was totally you.”
He sipped his drink, simply shrugging in response.
“So confirmed. It was you, Captain.” You said slyly.
You could’ve sworn you saw his breath hitch when you called him that. “I plead the fifth. I know my rights, Doctor.”
“You’ve said enough,” you said triumphantly.
He rubbed a hand over his face, smiling despite himself, “I think I liked you better before you started interrogating me.”
“You like me, Captain?” Your tone was borderline flirting. Dancing on that dangerous edge. He had gotten you too many glasses of wine for you to not attempt it, “and I’ll remind you, that you approached me.”
“I know,” he said, tone shifting to something softer than the back and forth teasing.
“So that’s on you,” you said knowingly.
He nodded, “it is.”
Somewhere around drink four, the room became softer around the edges.
Your feet still hurt, but you'd stopped caring.
“Don’t you have important people to woo here?” You asked, your filter slipping through the cracks.
“I’m right where I want to be,” he said smoothly, “plus there’s some perks to being Captain.”
That was the first of many times Sidney Crosby would make you blush.
Neither of you had noticed most of the gala had shifted towards eating.
“So,” Sidney asked, “have you met any of those donors your boss assigned you to?”
You froze, “oh god.”
His smile faltered, “have I been distracting you too much?”
“I may have forgotten,” you said embarrassed. You have been completely entranced.
Before he could answer you, another voice interrupted.
“There you are,” the deep voice rang out.
You turned.
Robby.
His hands were in his pockets. Suspicious expression already firmly in place. The one you received whenever you and Perlah were pranking Frank.
“I've been looking all over for you,” he said, a hint of passive aggression in his tone.
Your stomach dropped.
He looked between you and Sidney, immediately extending his hand towards him.
“Michael Robinavitch, chief of the ED at PTMC,” he glanced at you, “and this one’s boss.”
He turned back to face you, “how's the networking going?”
You looked at Sidney, “I’m so glad you asked…”
Sidney looked at you.
Neither of you spoke.
Robby narrowed his eyes, “you talked to at least four sponsors?”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
Sidney stepped in smoothly, “she did.”
You both turned toward him.
Robby looked skeptical.
“I grabbed your finest resident here, she’s been keeping me company. But she met the Campbells,” he said confidently.
You stared at him in slight awe.
“The Harrisons,” he looked around curiously, “oh and Dr. Jones from Presbyterian.”
Sidney paused just long enough to look convincing, “Dr. Donnelly from the U.”
Robby looked at you suspiciously, “really?”
You nodded perhaps a little too enthusiastically, “yep. My social battery is basically drained, gonna need tomorrow off.”
“She’s been great company,” Sidney continued seamlessly, “they must’ve talked for at least fifteen minutes before I interrupted.”
“You interrupted?” Robby asked.
Sidney didn't miss a beat, “my bad, chief.”
He gestured toward you, “I came over to introduce myself, and then I completely stole her attention.”
You looked at him, trying very hard not to laugh.
“I've basically been monopolizing your resident ever since,” he spared a glance at you and noticed you biting back a smile.
Robby crossed his arms, “for almost two hours?”
Sidney shrugged with practiced innocence, “I didn't realize how much time had passed.”
Robby looked between the two of you again.
You were both holding your drinks and smiling far too much. Your cheeks were flushed the same way someone who had a few too many drinks would be.
Neither of you was doing a particularly good job of hiding that you'd had more than one drink.
Then, slowly, Robby glanced between you both, “you two are drunk.”
You gasped at the accusation, “noooo,” you said immediately.
Sidney answered at exactly the same time, “yes.”
You whipped your head toward him, “Sidney.”
He looked back and shrugged, “what, he’s not my boss?”
“You were supposed to say no,” you say, in a failed attempt at a whisper.
Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, “I knew I shouldn’t have let us split up. I’m pretty sure Parker already took some girl home.”
You laughed at that, “right on.”
Robby did not have the patience for you. He looked at Sidney, “so she actually behaved?”
Sidney nodded, “more than.”
“He is not my babysitter,” you said
Robby simply rolled his eyes in response. Sidney glanced at you with a grin that made your stomach flutter.
“I was the bad influence,” Sidney admitted bashfully.
“I wouldn’t say… bad,” you said flirtatiously.
Robby rolled his eyes again, “I can’t believe you and Parker did nothing but flirt all night. Now, excuse me Mr. Crosby, it was nice meeting you, but I have to pick up the slack of both my residents.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed the second Robby walked away. And Sidney joined you.
“So,” he started, looking down at his glass, “have you been flirting all night?”
Heat immediately creeped up your neck, “it didn’t start that way, but, yeah, I think I have.”
You noticed the tint of pink covering his cheeks, “well. I came over here with the intention of flirting. But then I just started having fun.”
The admission came quietly and shyly.
You couldn’t help but smile at him.
Someone with an ear piece and a clip board all but ran up to you both, ruining the moment.
“Mr. Crosby! We’ve been looking for you everywhere, we need you on the stage like…. Fifteen minutes ago,” she let out on one breath.
Sidney glanced at you and then back at the panicked young coordinator, “I’ll be there in five. And please, Sidney.”
She nodded quickly, rushing away and talking into her walkie.
He sighed, “so I guess I’ve avoided my responsibilities far too long.”
You gave him a tight lip smile, saddened that this part of the evening was winding down.
“Listen,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “if it’s not too forward, I would love to get your number… and maybe take you to dinner some time?”
You had to bite back the giggle you could feel bubbling your throat out of giddiness, “ I would like that.”
He smiled, taking a deep breath of relief. He reached into his pocket and handed you his phone, you typed in your number.
“I hate to leave you here, but I’ll see you soon Doctor,” he winked at you before turning to go.
“Thanks for making tonight actually fun, Captain,” you sipped your drink, hiding your smile.
He walked away borderline skipping out of excitement.
You made your way through the crowd, finally finding Robby again.
“Oh, you done making eyes at the captain of the penguins yet?” He teased as you approached him.
You shook your head, “ha ha very funny.”
“Oh well, I wasn’t joking, now was I?” He teased again.
You rolled your eyes at him because his teasing was light and harmless. And you couldn’t believe you had just scored a date with the captain.
So what then, we’re supposed to just walk around now carrying this show in our souls like it’s completely normal ?? It happened and now it’s over and we just have to live with that ??
No description of reader but she wears a dress and drinks alcohol!!!
You were annoyed to say the least.
It was just your luck that Robby picked your name out of the mug.
You were a doctor. Not a poster child.
Yet, here you were. Adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time as you walked into the gala with Robby and Parker. The annual Pittsburgh Emergency Medicine Gala, hosted by the one and only Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation.
Robby had to go, by default. And you and Parker just seemed to have that kind of luck last week.
“I’m hitting the bar,” Parker said, diverting from you both before you even made it past the entry way.
You huffed a laugh.
“I know this sucks and no one wants to be here. But remember, smiles, handshakes, and don’t abuse the open bar.” Robby patted you on the shoulder before making his way through the room with his game face on.
You sighed, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter the second Robby was out of eye shot.
You downed the first one, immediately grabbing a second one.
The one perk was that you felt beautiful. You spent your days in scrubs and your days off in athletic clothes, at most jeans and a non graphic tshirt.
You took a deep breath, scanning the room for any familiar faces.
You walked over to one of the high top tables, heels clacking on the ground, squeezing your toes uncomfortably. You leaned against the nearest table and sighed in relief. It was going to be a long night.
Robby had laid out ground rules: you each had to be there until at least 10PM, you needed to shake hands with at least four of the donors and or sponsors, and be on your best behavior.
You ran through the rules in your head, suddenly feeling small in the room full of smart doctors and rich donors.
Someone clearing their throat beside you snapped you out of your thoughts.
You startled as the tall, dark haired man with piercing hazel eyes approached you.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, approaching your high top.
You smiled, it was Sidney fucking Crosby. You couldn’t wait to rub it in Frank’s face. He had been rubbing it in yours that he didn’t have to go to this gala for the past week.
“You didn’t,” you said softly.
“I've seen that look before,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“What look?” You asked innocently.
“The 'I'd rather be literally anywhere else' look,” he said, playing with the stem of his champagne glass.
You laughed before you could stop yourself, “am I being that obvious?”
He shrugged, “a little.”
You glanced around the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, waiters floated by with silver trays, and somewhere in the corner a string quartet was valiantly trying to make the top 5 classical songs sound classy and not boring.
“I thought I was hiding it better,” you brought your champagne to your lips, taking a long sip.
“When I first saw you, you were,” Sidney said with a shrug, “but as I got closer, I saw the sigh.”
You furrowed your brows, “I sighed?”
He nodded, “it was pretty dramatic, as far as sighs go.”
You groaned, “oh no.”
You buried your face in your champagne glass for a second before taking another sip, “this is my first gala.”
His eyebrows lifted, “really?”
You nodded, “I’m only here because my attending decided dragging two residents along would ‘make the hospital look like a united front’” you made exaggerated air quotes. “Personally, I think it was stupid.”
“So you’re a doctor?” He asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, senior resident at PTMC,” you said proudly.
“So how does a senior resident end up here and not, say an intern?” He asked, suddenly invested.
“Oh, glad you asked. He drew names out of a coffee mug,” you said with a tight lipped smile.
Sidney blinked, “a coffee mug?”
You nodded.
He laughed, a real laugh this time, warm and surprisingly loud enough that a few nearby people glanced over, “a coffee mug somehow makes the situation even funnier.”
He shook his head, still smiling, “I remember my first one.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded, “yeah we’re gonna need a real drink for that one.”
He flagged a waiter down, ordering himself a whiskey and you ordered a glass of wine.
The drinks arrived swiftly.
“Cheers,” he said holding his glass towards you.
“Cheers,” you said softly with a smile, clinking your glass before taking a big sip.
“So, were you awkward?” You asked.
He chuckled, “I still am,” he took a deep breath.
“At my first gala, I was a rookie, I couldn’t even drink. So I spent the entire night sober. I got hit on by a sixty two year old lady with lipstick all in her teeth.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed.
He smiled, “and the worst part is, I was too nice to say no. So I danced with her. And the team still likes to send that grainy picture around to humble me.”
You laughed harder, “I bet it made her whole night though.”
He laughed now too, taking another sip of his drink, like he was working up the courage for something, “I hope it did, because it’ll follow me forever.”
“But you have to be a pro now. You've done... what, a million of these?”
He shrugged, taking a look around the room, “a few.”
“You must know everyone that comes to these things,” you said.
He looked around the room before lowering his voice conspiratorially, “that's actually the problem.”
You lifted your eyebrow, “do go on.”
He smiled again, “they get rather boring.”
The admission surprised you.
“They all kind of blend together after a while,” he said with a shrug.
“So you're bored?” You asked.
He looked at you, “a little.”
You grinned, “I'm bored too. And I just got here.”
“So we found our common ground,” he said proudly.
You lifted your glass, “to our mutual boredom.”
What started as a two-minute conversation somehow became thirty.
Thirty minutes suddenly became an hour.
You learned that Sidney hated small talk almost as much as you did.
He learned that emergency medicine had permanently destroyed your ability to tolerate people who complained about trivial inconveniences.
You told him your craziest night shift stories. One of which was a Penguins fan challenging a Flyers fan to a duel using baseball bats.
He laughed so hard his whiskey nearly came out his nose, “you had to have made that up.”
“I swear on my medical license. They both came in, still clutching their bats, jerseys torn and covered in blood. And when they were wheeled in on stretchers, they were still yelling at one another,” you said with a tight lipped smile, “the Penguins fan did actually say he was fighting for your honor.”
Sidney doubled over laughing and you felt butterflies. You quickly realized the crush you were harboring on the devilishly handsome athlete in front on you.
“You are making that up,” he said accusingly, but with a smile.
“Im not! I swear!” You said defensively, with a grin.
"You're making Pittsburgh sound insane,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’ve played hockey here for basically a century. You should already know that,” you quipped.
He scoffed, “how old do you think I am?”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed again.
In return, he told you stories from road trips that sounded too ridiculous to be true. You heard of forgotten passports. Pranks that were borderline evil. And who accidentally boarded the wrong team bus once.
Sidnsey shook his head, “I refuse to tell you who that was.”
“You already told me enough clues,” you said with a smirk.
“I absolutely did not,” he said.
“Letang.”
“No.”
“Malkin.”
“No.”
“Right. Because it was you,” you smirked.
He stared at you, “I'm pleading the fifth.”
You gasped dramatically, “it was totally you.”
He sipped his drink, simply shrugging in response.
“So confirmed. It was you, Captain.” You said slyly.
You could’ve sworn you saw his breath hitch when you called him that. “I plead the fifth. I know my rights, Doctor.”
“You’ve said enough,” you said triumphantly.
He rubbed a hand over his face, smiling despite himself, “I think I liked you better before you started interrogating me.”
“You like me, Captain?” Your tone was borderline flirting. Dancing on that dangerous edge. He had gotten you too many glasses of wine for you to not attempt it, “and I’ll remind you, that you approached me.”
“I know,” he said, tone shifting to something softer than the back and forth teasing.
“So that’s on you,” you said knowingly.
He nodded, “it is.”
Somewhere around drink four, the room became softer around the edges.
Your feet still hurt, but you'd stopped caring.
“Don’t you have important people to woo here?” You asked, your filter slipping through the cracks.
“I’m right where I want to be,” he said smoothly, “plus there’s some perks to being Captain.”
That was the first of many times Sidney Crosby would make you blush.
Neither of you had noticed most of the gala had shifted towards eating.
“So,” Sidney asked, “have you met any of those donors your boss assigned you to?”
You froze, “oh god.”
His smile faltered, “have I been distracting you too much?”
“I may have forgotten,” you said embarrassed. You have been completely entranced.
Before he could answer you, another voice interrupted.
“There you are,” the deep voice rang out.
You turned.
Robby.
His hands were in his pockets. Suspicious expression already firmly in place. The one you received whenever you and Perlah were pranking Frank.
“I've been looking all over for you,” he said, a hint of passive aggression in his tone.
Your stomach dropped.
He looked between you and Sidney, immediately extending his hand towards him.
“Michael Robinavitch, chief of the ED at PTMC,” he glanced at you, “and this one’s boss.”
He turned back to face you, “how's the networking going?”
You looked at Sidney, “I’m so glad you asked…”
Sidney looked at you.
Neither of you spoke.
Robby narrowed his eyes, “you talked to at least four sponsors?”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
Sidney stepped in smoothly, “she did.”
You both turned toward him.
Robby looked skeptical.
“I grabbed your finest resident here, she’s been keeping me company. But she met the Campbells,” he said confidently.
You stared at him in slight awe.
“The Harrisons,” he looked around curiously, “oh and Dr. Jones from Presbyterian.”
Sidney paused just long enough to look convincing, “Dr. Donnelly from the U.”
Robby looked at you suspiciously, “really?”
You nodded perhaps a little too enthusiastically, “yep. My social battery is basically drained, gonna need tomorrow off.”
“She’s been great company,” Sidney continued seamlessly, “they must’ve talked for at least fifteen minutes before I interrupted.”
“You interrupted?” Robby asked.
Sidney didn't miss a beat, “my bad, chief.”
He gestured toward you, “I came over to introduce myself, and then I completely stole her attention.”
You looked at him, trying very hard not to laugh.
“I've basically been monopolizing your resident ever since,” he spared a glance at you and noticed you biting back a smile.
Robby crossed his arms, “for almost two hours?”
Sidney shrugged with practiced innocence, “I didn't realize how much time had passed.”
Robby looked between the two of you again.
You were both holding your drinks and smiling far too much. Your cheeks were flushed the same way someone who had a few too many drinks would be.
Neither of you was doing a particularly good job of hiding that you'd had more than one drink.
Then, slowly, Robby glanced between you both, “you two are drunk.”
You gasped at the accusation, “noooo,” you said immediately.
Sidney answered at exactly the same time, “yes.”
You whipped your head toward him, “Sidney.”
He looked back and shrugged, “what, he’s not my boss?”
“You were supposed to say no,” you say, in a failed attempt at a whisper.
Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, “I knew I shouldn’t have let us split up. I’m pretty sure Parker already took some girl home.”
You laughed at that, “right on.”
Robby did not have the patience for you. He looked at Sidney, “so she actually behaved?”
Sidney nodded, “more than.”
“He is not my babysitter,” you said
Robby simply rolled his eyes in response. Sidney glanced at you with a grin that made your stomach flutter.
“I was the bad influence,” Sidney admitted bashfully.
“I wouldn’t say… bad,” you said flirtatiously.
Robby rolled his eyes again, “I can’t believe you and Parker did nothing but flirt all night. Now, excuse me Mr. Crosby, it was nice meeting you, but I have to pick up the slack of both my residents.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed the second Robby walked away. And Sidney joined you.
“So,” he started, looking down at his glass, “have you been flirting all night?”
Heat immediately creeped up your neck, “it didn’t start that way, but, yeah, I think I have.”
You noticed the tint of pink covering his cheeks, “well. I came over here with the intention of flirting. But then I just started having fun.”
The admission came quietly and shyly.
You couldn’t help but smile at him.
Someone with an ear piece and a clip board all but ran up to you both, ruining the moment.
“Mr. Crosby! We’ve been looking for you everywhere, we need you on the stage like…. Fifteen minutes ago,” she let out on one breath.
Sidney glanced at you and then back at the panicked young coordinator, “I’ll be there in five. And please, Sidney.”
She nodded quickly, rushing away and talking into her walkie.
He sighed, “so I guess I’ve avoided my responsibilities far too long.”
You gave him a tight lip smile, saddened that this part of the evening was winding down.
“Listen,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “if it’s not too forward, I would love to get your number… and maybe take you to dinner some time?”
You had to bite back the giggle you could feel bubbling your throat out of giddiness, “ I would like that.”
He smiled, taking a deep breath of relief. He reached into his pocket and handed you his phone, you typed in your number.
“I hate to leave you here, but I’ll see you soon Doctor,” he winked at you before turning to go.
“Thanks for making tonight actually fun, Captain,” you sipped your drink, hiding your smile.
He walked away borderline skipping out of excitement.
You made your way through the crowd, finally finding Robby again.
“Oh, you done making eyes at the captain of the penguins yet?” He teased as you approached him.
You shook your head, “ha ha very funny.”
“Oh well, I wasn’t joking, now was I?” He teased again.
You rolled your eyes at him because his teasing was light and harmless. And you couldn’t believe you had just scored a date with the captain.
No description of reader but she wears a dress and drinks alcohol!!!
You were annoyed to say the least.
It was just your luck that Robby picked your name out of the mug.
You were a doctor. Not a poster child.
Yet, here you were. Adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time as you walked into the gala with Robby and Parker. The annual Pittsburgh Emergency Medicine Gala, hosted by the one and only Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation.
Robby had to go, by default. And you and Parker just seemed to have that kind of luck last week.
“I’m hitting the bar,” Parker said, diverting from you both before you even made it past the entry way.
You huffed a laugh.
“I know this sucks and no one wants to be here. But remember, smiles, handshakes, and don’t abuse the open bar.” Robby patted you on the shoulder before making his way through the room with his game face on.
You sighed, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter the second Robby was out of eye shot.
You downed the first one, immediately grabbing a second one.
The one perk was that you felt beautiful. You spent your days in scrubs and your days off in athletic clothes, at most jeans and a non graphic tshirt.
You took a deep breath, scanning the room for any familiar faces.
You walked over to one of the high top tables, heels clacking on the ground, squeezing your toes uncomfortably. You leaned against the nearest table and sighed in relief. It was going to be a long night.
Robby had laid out ground rules: you each had to be there until at least 10PM, you needed to shake hands with at least four of the donors and or sponsors, and be on your best behavior.
You ran through the rules in your head, suddenly feeling small in the room full of smart doctors and rich donors.
Someone clearing their throat beside you snapped you out of your thoughts.
You startled as the tall, dark haired man with piercing hazel eyes approached you.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, approaching your high top.
You smiled, it was Sidney fucking Crosby. You couldn’t wait to rub it in Frank’s face. He had been rubbing it in yours that he didn’t have to go to this gala for the past week.
“You didn’t,” you said softly.
“I've seen that look before,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“What look?” You asked innocently.
“The 'I'd rather be literally anywhere else' look,” he said, playing with the stem of his champagne glass.
You laughed before you could stop yourself, “am I being that obvious?”
He shrugged, “a little.”
You glanced around the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, waiters floated by with silver trays, and somewhere in the corner a string quartet was valiantly trying to make the top 5 classical songs sound classy and not boring.
“I thought I was hiding it better,” you brought your champagne to your lips, taking a long sip.
“When I first saw you, you were,” Sidney said with a shrug, “but as I got closer, I saw the sigh.”
You furrowed your brows, “I sighed?”
He nodded, “it was pretty dramatic, as far as sighs go.”
You groaned, “oh no.”
You buried your face in your champagne glass for a second before taking another sip, “this is my first gala.”
His eyebrows lifted, “really?”
You nodded, “I’m only here because my attending decided dragging two residents along would ‘make the hospital look like a united front’” you made exaggerated air quotes. “Personally, I think it was stupid.”
“So you’re a doctor?” He asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, senior resident at PTMC,” you said proudly.
“So how does a senior resident end up here and not, say an intern?” He asked, suddenly invested.
“Oh, glad you asked. He drew names out of a coffee mug,” you said with a tight lipped smile.
Sidney blinked, “a coffee mug?”
You nodded.
He laughed, a real laugh this time, warm and surprisingly loud enough that a few nearby people glanced over, “a coffee mug somehow makes the situation even funnier.”
He shook his head, still smiling, “I remember my first one.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded, “yeah we’re gonna need a real drink for that one.”
He flagged a waiter down, ordering himself a whiskey and you ordered a glass of wine.
The drinks arrived swiftly.
“Cheers,” he said holding his glass towards you.
“Cheers,” you said softly with a smile, clinking your glass before taking a big sip.
“So, were you awkward?” You asked.
He chuckled, “I still am,” he took a deep breath.
“At my first gala, I was a rookie, I couldn’t even drink. So I spent the entire night sober. I got hit on by a sixty two year old lady with lipstick all in her teeth.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed.
He smiled, “and the worst part is, I was too nice to say no. So I danced with her. And the team still likes to send that grainy picture around to humble me.”
You laughed harder, “I bet it made her whole night though.”
He laughed now too, taking another sip of his drink, like he was working up the courage for something, “I hope it did, because it’ll follow me forever.”
“But you have to be a pro now. You've done... what, a million of these?”
He shrugged, taking a look around the room, “a few.”
“You must know everyone that comes to these things,” you said.
He looked around the room before lowering his voice conspiratorially, “that's actually the problem.”
You lifted your eyebrow, “do go on.”
He smiled again, “they get rather boring.”
The admission surprised you.
“They all kind of blend together after a while,” he said with a shrug.
“So you're bored?” You asked.
He looked at you, “a little.”
You grinned, “I'm bored too. And I just got here.”
“So we found our common ground,” he said proudly.
You lifted your glass, “to our mutual boredom.”
What started as a two-minute conversation somehow became thirty.
Thirty minutes suddenly became an hour.
You learned that Sidney hated small talk almost as much as you did.
He learned that emergency medicine had permanently destroyed your ability to tolerate people who complained about trivial inconveniences.
You told him your craziest night shift stories. One of which was a Penguins fan challenging a Flyers fan to a duel using baseball bats.
He laughed so hard his whiskey nearly came out his nose, “you had to have made that up.”
“I swear on my medical license. They both came in, still clutching their bats, jerseys torn and covered in blood. And when they were wheeled in on stretchers, they were still yelling at one another,” you said with a tight lipped smile, “the Penguins fan did actually say he was fighting for your honor.”
Sidney doubled over laughing and you felt butterflies. You quickly realized the crush you were harboring on the devilishly handsome athlete in front on you.
“You are making that up,” he said accusingly, but with a smile.
“Im not! I swear!” You said defensively, with a grin.
"You're making Pittsburgh sound insane,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’ve played hockey here for basically a century. You should already know that,” you quipped.
He scoffed, “how old do you think I am?”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed again.
In return, he told you stories from road trips that sounded too ridiculous to be true. You heard of forgotten passports. Pranks that were borderline evil. And who accidentally boarded the wrong team bus once.
Sidnsey shook his head, “I refuse to tell you who that was.”
“You already told me enough clues,” you said with a smirk.
“I absolutely did not,” he said.
“Letang.”
“No.”
“Malkin.”
“No.”
“Right. Because it was you,” you smirked.
He stared at you, “I'm pleading the fifth.”
You gasped dramatically, “it was totally you.”
He sipped his drink, simply shrugging in response.
“So confirmed. It was you, Captain.” You said slyly.
You could’ve sworn you saw his breath hitch when you called him that. “I plead the fifth. I know my rights, Doctor.”
“You’ve said enough,” you said triumphantly.
He rubbed a hand over his face, smiling despite himself, “I think I liked you better before you started interrogating me.”
“You like me, Captain?” Your tone was borderline flirting. Dancing on that dangerous edge. He had gotten you too many glasses of wine for you to not attempt it, “and I’ll remind you, that you approached me.”
“I know,” he said, tone shifting to something softer than the back and forth teasing.
“So that’s on you,” you said knowingly.
He nodded, “it is.”
Somewhere around drink four, the room became softer around the edges.
Your feet still hurt, but you'd stopped caring.
“Don’t you have important people to woo here?” You asked, your filter slipping through the cracks.
“I’m right where I want to be,” he said smoothly, “plus there’s some perks to being Captain.”
That was the first of many times Sidney Crosby would make you blush.
Neither of you had noticed most of the gala had shifted towards eating.
“So,” Sidney asked, “have you met any of those donors your boss assigned you to?”
You froze, “oh god.”
His smile faltered, “have I been distracting you too much?”
“I may have forgotten,” you said embarrassed. You have been completely entranced.
Before he could answer you, another voice interrupted.
“There you are,” the deep voice rang out.
You turned.
Robby.
His hands were in his pockets. Suspicious expression already firmly in place. The one you received whenever you and Perlah were pranking Frank.
“I've been looking all over for you,” he said, a hint of passive aggression in his tone.
Your stomach dropped.
He looked between you and Sidney, immediately extending his hand towards him.
“Michael Robinavitch, chief of the ED at PTMC,” he glanced at you, “and this one’s boss.”
He turned back to face you, “how's the networking going?”
You looked at Sidney, “I’m so glad you asked…”
Sidney looked at you.
Neither of you spoke.
Robby narrowed his eyes, “you talked to at least four sponsors?”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
Sidney stepped in smoothly, “she did.”
You both turned toward him.
Robby looked skeptical.
“I grabbed your finest resident here, she’s been keeping me company. But she met the Campbells,” he said confidently.
You stared at him in slight awe.
“The Harrisons,” he looked around curiously, “oh and Dr. Jones from Presbyterian.”
Sidney paused just long enough to look convincing, “Dr. Donnelly from the U.”
Robby looked at you suspiciously, “really?”
You nodded perhaps a little too enthusiastically, “yep. My social battery is basically drained, gonna need tomorrow off.”
“She’s been great company,” Sidney continued seamlessly, “they must’ve talked for at least fifteen minutes before I interrupted.”
“You interrupted?” Robby asked.
Sidney didn't miss a beat, “my bad, chief.”
He gestured toward you, “I came over to introduce myself, and then I completely stole her attention.”
You looked at him, trying very hard not to laugh.
“I've basically been monopolizing your resident ever since,” he spared a glance at you and noticed you biting back a smile.
Robby crossed his arms, “for almost two hours?”
Sidney shrugged with practiced innocence, “I didn't realize how much time had passed.”
Robby looked between the two of you again.
You were both holding your drinks and smiling far too much. Your cheeks were flushed the same way someone who had a few too many drinks would be.
Neither of you was doing a particularly good job of hiding that you'd had more than one drink.
Then, slowly, Robby glanced between you both, “you two are drunk.”
You gasped at the accusation, “noooo,” you said immediately.
Sidney answered at exactly the same time, “yes.”
You whipped your head toward him, “Sidney.”
He looked back and shrugged, “what, he’s not my boss?”
“You were supposed to say no,” you say, in a failed attempt at a whisper.
Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, “I knew I shouldn’t have let us split up. I’m pretty sure Parker already took some girl home.”
You laughed at that, “right on.”
Robby did not have the patience for you. He looked at Sidney, “so she actually behaved?”
Sidney nodded, “more than.”
“He is not my babysitter,” you said
Robby simply rolled his eyes in response. Sidney glanced at you with a grin that made your stomach flutter.
“I was the bad influence,” Sidney admitted bashfully.
“I wouldn’t say… bad,” you said flirtatiously.
Robby rolled his eyes again, “I can’t believe you and Parker did nothing but flirt all night. Now, excuse me Mr. Crosby, it was nice meeting you, but I have to pick up the slack of both my residents.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed the second Robby walked away. And Sidney joined you.
“So,” he started, looking down at his glass, “have you been flirting all night?”
Heat immediately creeped up your neck, “it didn’t start that way, but, yeah, I think I have.”
You noticed the tint of pink covering his cheeks, “well. I came over here with the intention of flirting. But then I just started having fun.”
The admission came quietly and shyly.
You couldn’t help but smile at him.
Someone with an ear piece and a clip board all but ran up to you both, ruining the moment.
“Mr. Crosby! We’ve been looking for you everywhere, we need you on the stage like…. Fifteen minutes ago,” she let out on one breath.
Sidney glanced at you and then back at the panicked young coordinator, “I’ll be there in five. And please, Sidney.”
She nodded quickly, rushing away and talking into her walkie.
He sighed, “so I guess I’ve avoided my responsibilities far too long.”
You gave him a tight lip smile, saddened that this part of the evening was winding down.
“Listen,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “if it’s not too forward, I would love to get your number… and maybe take you to dinner some time?”
You had to bite back the giggle you could feel bubbling your throat out of giddiness, “ I would like that.”
He smiled, taking a deep breath of relief. He reached into his pocket and handed you his phone, you typed in your number.
“I hate to leave you here, but I’ll see you soon Doctor,” he winked at you before turning to go.
“Thanks for making tonight actually fun, Captain,” you sipped your drink, hiding your smile.
He walked away borderline skipping out of excitement.
You made your way through the crowd, finally finding Robby again.
“Oh, you done making eyes at the captain of the penguins yet?” He teased as you approached him.
You shook your head, “ha ha very funny.”
“Oh well, I wasn’t joking, now was I?” He teased again.
You rolled your eyes at him because his teasing was light and harmless. And you couldn’t believe you had just scored a date with the captain.
Jack Abbot with a younger girlfriend who is an oldest daughter in all the stereotypical ways. And he’s so patient with her and she never has to ask him to do anything twice.
He does everything she says and he’s attentive and reassuring. He takes the weight of the world that she carries off her shoulders and just lets her be herself. It’s the first time in her life where she felt like someone was actually taking care of her.
He sees her in a way her parents and younger siblings never did. For the first time in her life she doesn’t feel like she’s trying to reach an impossible standard or ask for too much. He just loves her exactly as she is. She can rant and complain to him, he would never call her dramatic.
He loves his type A, a little bit crazy, oldest daughter girlfriend.
And another thing… when Jack proposes to oldest daughter reader, it’s the first time someone has been all in for her.
She’s never felt so loved, usually she is putting all of herself on the line for very little in return. But it’s not like that with Jack. He gives just as much as her. They are complete equals and that’s something she isn’t used to in her relationships.
Even when he proposes, it’s the exact ring, the perfect place, it’s quiet and peaceful and just them. It’s the first time something has been completely about her.
He knows exactly how to love her and she’s never experienced that.
Chef Luca x fem!Berzatto!reader (established relationship)
Word count: 2.1k Masterlist
Summary: Luca asks you to move with him, will you blow up your relationship in typical Berzatto fashion? Or let yourself live the life you’ve always dreamed of?
AN: nobody asked for this but I’m a slut for Will Poulter and had this idea while watching season five. SEASON FIVE SPOILERS!
You couldn’t have heard him right. That couldn’t possibly be what he just asked you.
“Wha-what did you say?” Your words were shaky, you shook your head in disbelief.
“I asked you to marry me and move to Copenhagen… with me,” his accent was so overwhelming, even after years of dating, it made everything sound like silk, “I know it’s a bit of an ask, darling. If you marry me, you wouldn’t have to worry about a visa. I can’t pass this up, and I’m asking you to come with me, because I want that future we’ve been talking about.”
You could tell he was nervous, his tone was soft and a little tentative, like he knew exactly what he was asking.
“Is that supposed to be a proposal?” It’s the only thing you could think to say.
His face softened, “not the official one, I just mean it’ll make it easier. I thought we talked about it. Do you not want to marry me?”
“No, I do, Luca. This is just, I don’t know,” you gestured vaguely, “a lot.”
Your family was here, your sister, your niece, your brother, your oldest brother’s grave. You have known nothing in life but Chicago. But part of you always dreamt of more, could this be what that is? Or was this a grave mistake you were bound to fuck up?
“We have to get to the restaurant,” you moved on autopilot, not knowing what else to do. You slipped your rain jacket on.
As you walked by him, he grabbed your wrist lightly, keeping you in place.
“Look at me please,” he said barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him.
“I leave in a month.” He searched your face for a reaction, but your poker face remained in tact as you reverted back to your old ways of pushing your emotions all the way down.
“I want you to come with me, if that’s what you want. I’ll be able to support us both for a while, it could be our next chapter. But you don’t have to tell me right now,” his hands moved to cup your cheeks tenderly, and you let yourself melt just a little bit from his touch, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Lu,” you said softly, trying to blink back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill.
He moved his hands away from your face and you turned to leave, Marcus was waiting outside for you both.
The entire car ride you sat in the back as they chatted and bickered like brothers. You looked out the window at the rain absolutely pounding. The anxiety was sitting in your chest like a weight, making every breath feel like a chore.
He was so patient with you. So patient with your grief and your anxiety and your Berzatto way of handling emotions and big conversations.
By the time you got to the restaurant, you made your problems everyone else’s.
You hated that you did this, the snapping, the tone. Sydney was begging you and Carmy to stop. It wasn’t loud, there wasn’t cursing, but there were little digs. When you finally turned to Sugar and gave her similar treatment, she had decided the last hour had been enough.
She took your forearm firmly and all but dragged you into the small office. When she closed the door you immediately crossed your arms in defense.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Your sister’s blue eyes bore into you as she placed her hands on her hips, “you’re snapping at everyone, I hate when you get like this, it’s not like you.”
“Nothing,” you said, rolling your neck.
“Well, what’s bothering you then?” Nat asked, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“Nothing,” you said through gritted teeth this time. You moved to leave, but Nat stepped in front of the door.
“Sug—”
“No.” She cut you off, “you’re not leaving until you tell me.” Her hands were firm, her stance strong.
“Sug, don’t make me move you. I’m taller than you and you always forget that,” you threatened.
She scoffed, “try me.”
You sighed, seriously considering a physical altercation with your older sister, but your shoulders sagged.
Her face changed, twisting into something of concern.
Your hands came up and covered your face.
“Is it Luca? You guys have barely talked,” she pried, “he keeps looking at you like a dog that’s been kicked.”
You removed your hands, “god, you always know.”
She smirked at you.
You took a deep breath, “he’s moving to Copenhagen.”
Her jaw nearly dropped, “what?”
You took an even deeper breath, you felt like caving in on yourself, “and he asked me to… marry him and go with him.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and squeezed your eyes shut. Now she audibly gasped. “What?”
She moved from the door and stood in front of you, “I mean, you said yes right?”
You whipped your head up, “what? I didn’t say anything. I totally panicked.”
She sighed, placing both of her hands on your shoulders, “you have wanted to escape here your whole life. And you love him so much, so much I’m almost jealous. This is so exciting.”
You smiled a little, which made her smile.
“What am I supposed to do? Just marry him and fuck off to Europe indefinitely?”
“I mean, does that really sound so bad?” She said softly.
“Ugh, no.” You said, “so why am I being so stupid?”
“Because you’re a Berzatto, it’s in our blood to ruin good things,” she answered, only partly joking.
You laughed again, “you’re right.”
She pulled you into a tight hug, “I think you need to talk to him.”
You embraced her, enjoying the moment of quiet that you rarely got with your sister.
“Yeah I do.” You agreed with her.
She took a shaky breath against you, you knew that meant she was trying not to cry, “I’m really proud of you, and so happy for you.”
“I love you,” you said softly.
She kissed your cheek and pulled away, placing both her hands on your shoulders, “go get em tiger.”
You emerged from the office with a new found lightness. Your first stop was Carmen. He was at his station solemnly, being uncharacteristically quiet today for the sake of Syd.
You bumped your hip against his, “hey bear.”
He didn’t look up from the pan in front of him, “hey.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that all out on you,” you said embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” he turned and gave you a small smile.
You rubbed your first over your chest, and he mimicked the gesture, a silent agreement that you were okay, water under the bridge.
You moved swiftly to the pastry station. Marcus was tense besides Luca, and you were sure a conversation about Copenhagen was had.
“Lu,” he looked up at your voice and met your eyes, “can you come outside for a sec?”
He nodded, “yes, chef.”
The formality made you wince.
He followed you out the back door, where you both jogged to the tent that was the makeshift smoking spot.
Before you could think too hard you spoke, “I want to come with you,” you said softly.
His eyes widened and a grin took over the lower half of his beautiful face.
Even in the rain his blue eyes were sparkling.
“You’re coming… to Copenhagen,” he repeated.
You nodded, “yes.”
“And you want to marry me?”
You nodded again, slightly more eager, “yes.”
You smiled up at him, and before you could say something else his hands came up and pulled your face into a warm kiss.
When he pulled away you were both smiling.
“I guess I have to get packing… and also tell everyone I know,” you said softly.
“Lu,” you said sweetly.
“Yes,” he said, still holding your face in his hands.
“Take me to Paris, I’ve always wanted to go,” you said, placing your hands on his chest.
He laughed, “I will take you, literally anywhere you want to go.”
His hands stayed on your face, he slowly moved his thumbs across your cheek bones, “I thought I was going to lose you. My stomach has been in knots all morning.”
Your hands came up to hold his wrists, “you couldn’t lose me if you tried.”
“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming with you yet, okay? I need to do it,” you said calmly.
“Absolutely,” he kissed you on the cheek, “we should get back in there.”
“And babe?” You asked.
He hummed, still looking at you.
“Go easy on Marcus, he gets mean when he’s stressed, and even more so when he’s upset. He feels like you’re abandoning him,” you held his gaze.
“Okay, love,” he pecked your lips again.
Both of you stood there touching, not wanting the moment to end, listening to the sounds of the heavy rain and enjoying the warmth emanating from one another.
He leaned down and kissed you again, a little slower this time. You moved your hands to the base of his head, playing with the soft hair that sat there. He moaned softly into your mouth at the feeling. Just as you were about to slip your tongue into his mouth, the door swung open, “WOAH! Cousin!”
Richie’s scratchy voice rang out. You jumped out of Luca’s hold like he had burned you.
“I don’t wanna see all that, I’m tryna have a smoke!” He made his way under the tent, already trying to light his cigarette.
“We were just about to head inside,” you said, moving past Richie with Luca in tow.
“Yeah, sure that’s what it looked like,” he yelled after you.
You took Lucas hand and pulled him inside, both of you blushing out of embarrassment.
Inside, the kitchen swallowed you both immediately.
The hiss of burners, the clatter of pans, Sydney calling times from the pass. The tension of service was starting to creep in whether your world had just changed or not.
Luca squeezed your hand once before letting go.
“After service?” he asked quietly.
“After service,” you promised.
You headed toward your station and could feel his eyes following you for a second before he turned back to pastry.
Marcus looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “you guys okay?”
Luca reached for a tray of choux and, for the first time all day, looked completely relaxed.
“Yeah,” he said, “more than.”
Across the kitchen, Carmen caught your expression immediately. As a brother does.
He was plating fish when he glanced up, froze, then slowly raised an eyebrow. You tried to keep your face neutral, but you failed spectacularly.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“What?” Sydney asked, noticing.
“Nothing,” Carmy said, still watching you. “Absolutely nothing.”
You rolled your eyes and focused on your prep, but your hands felt lighter than they had all morning. Every few minutes you caught yourself smiling at nothing. At the shallots. At the ticket machine. At the fact that Copenhagen was real.
Then, inevitably, your gaze drifted across the kitchen.
Luca was piping cream into pastries, and he was smiling too.
Not his usual small, amused smile. A full one. The kind that reached his eyes and made him look younger.
Marcus noticed it first.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Am I?” Luca replied, failing to hide it.
“Yeah. It’s weird. Stop,” Marcus said seriously.
Luca laughed under his breath and went back to work, but the smile never really disappeared.
Service pushed on.
You moved automatically, years of muscle memory carrying you through the rush. Yet every so often you’d catch Luca looking up from pastry, and each time he did, that same impossible grin returned to his face.
And every time it did, you felt your own answer it.
By the middle of service, Richie finally noticed.
“Why do you two look so goddamn happy?” he demanded, pointing between you with a pair of tongs.
“We’re working, cousin,” you said innocently.
“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” he said, gesturing around dramatically.
Luca ducked his head to hide another smile.
Richie looked at Carmy. “You seeing this?”
Carmy smirked without looking up from the pass, but didn’t respond.
“You know something?” Richie asked, turning towards him.
“I think I’ve put some pieces together, yeah,” he said simply.
“I hate this family,” Richie said shaking his head
“No you don’t,” you and Nat said in tandem.
The tickets kept printing. The rain kept hammering the roof. The restaurant buzzed around you.
But underneath all of it was something new.
A month from now, you would be leaving Chicago. You would be standing beside Luca in Copenhagen.
You looked up from your cutting board just as Luca looked over from pastry. Across the noise and steam and chaos of the kitchen, your eyes met.
Neither of you said a word. You simply went back to your station, unable to stop smiling. And neither could he.
Sorry this a random one guys! Tags (all): @ilocuras24 @nyxmoretti @kmc1989 @destinyg237
Chef Luca x fem!Berzatto!reader (established relationship)
Word count: 2.1k Masterlist
Summary: Luca asks you to move with him, will you blow up your relationship in typical Berzatto fashion? Or let yourself live the life you’ve always dreamed of?
AN: nobody asked for this but I’m a slut for Will Poulter and had this idea while watching season five. SEASON FIVE SPOILERS!
You couldn’t have heard him right. That couldn’t possibly be what he just asked you.
“Wha-what did you say?” Your words were shaky, you shook your head in disbelief.
“I asked you to marry me and move to Copenhagen… with me,” his accent was so overwhelming, even after years of dating, it made everything sound like silk, “I know it’s a bit of an ask, darling. If you marry me, you wouldn’t have to worry about a visa. I can’t pass this up, and I’m asking you to come with me, because I want that future we’ve been talking about.”
You could tell he was nervous, his tone was soft and a little tentative, like he knew exactly what he was asking.
“Is that supposed to be a proposal?” It’s the only thing you could think to say.
His face softened, “not the official one, I just mean it’ll make it easier. I thought we talked about it. Do you not want to marry me?”
“No, I do, Luca. This is just, I don’t know,” you gestured vaguely, “a lot.”
Your family was here, your sister, your niece, your brother, your oldest brother’s grave. You have known nothing in life but Chicago. But part of you always dreamt of more, could this be what that is? Or was this a grave mistake you were bound to fuck up?
“We have to get to the restaurant,” you moved on autopilot, not knowing what else to do. You slipped your rain jacket on.
As you walked by him, he grabbed your wrist lightly, keeping you in place.
“Look at me please,” he said barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him.
“I leave in a month.” He searched your face for a reaction, but your poker face remained in tact as you reverted back to your old ways of pushing your emotions all the way down.
“I want you to come with me, if that’s what you want. I’ll be able to support us both for a while, it could be our next chapter. But you don’t have to tell me right now,” his hands moved to cup your cheeks tenderly, and you let yourself melt just a little bit from his touch, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Lu,” you said softly, trying to blink back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill.
He moved his hands away from your face and you turned to leave, Marcus was waiting outside for you both.
The entire car ride you sat in the back as they chatted and bickered like brothers. You looked out the window at the rain absolutely pounding. The anxiety was sitting in your chest like a weight, making every breath feel like a chore.
He was so patient with you. So patient with your grief and your anxiety and your Berzatto way of handling emotions and big conversations.
By the time you got to the restaurant, you made your problems everyone else’s.
You hated that you did this, the snapping, the tone. Sydney was begging you and Carmy to stop. It wasn’t loud, there wasn’t cursing, but there were little digs. When you finally turned to Sugar and gave her similar treatment, she had decided the last hour had been enough.
She took your forearm firmly and all but dragged you into the small office. When she closed the door you immediately crossed your arms in defense.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Your sister’s blue eyes bore into you as she placed her hands on her hips, “you’re snapping at everyone, I hate when you get like this, it’s not like you.”
“Nothing,” you said, rolling your neck.
“Well, what’s bothering you then?” Nat asked, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“Nothing,” you said through gritted teeth this time. You moved to leave, but Nat stepped in front of the door.
“Sug—”
“No.” She cut you off, “you’re not leaving until you tell me.” Her hands were firm, her stance strong.
“Sug, don’t make me move you. I’m taller than you and you always forget that,” you threatened.
She scoffed, “try me.”
You sighed, seriously considering a physical altercation with your older sister, but your shoulders sagged.
Her face changed, twisting into something of concern.
Your hands came up and covered your face.
“Is it Luca? You guys have barely talked,” she pried, “he keeps looking at you like a dog that’s been kicked.”
You removed your hands, “god, you always know.”
She smirked at you.
You took a deep breath, “he’s moving to Copenhagen.”
Her jaw nearly dropped, “what?”
You took an even deeper breath, you felt like caving in on yourself, “and he asked me to… marry him and go with him.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and squeezed your eyes shut. Now she audibly gasped. “What?”
She moved from the door and stood in front of you, “I mean, you said yes right?”
You whipped your head up, “what? I didn’t say anything. I totally panicked.”
She sighed, placing both of her hands on your shoulders, “you have wanted to escape here your whole life. And you love him so much, so much I’m almost jealous. This is so exciting.”
You smiled a little, which made her smile.
“What am I supposed to do? Just marry him and fuck off to Europe indefinitely?”
“I mean, does that really sound so bad?” She said softly.
“Ugh, no.” You said, “so why am I being so stupid?”
“Because you’re a Berzatto, it’s in our blood to ruin good things,” she answered, only partly joking.
You laughed again, “you’re right.”
She pulled you into a tight hug, “I think you need to talk to him.”
You embraced her, enjoying the moment of quiet that you rarely got with your sister.
“Yeah I do.” You agreed with her.
She took a shaky breath against you, you knew that meant she was trying not to cry, “I’m really proud of you, and so happy for you.”
“I love you,” you said softly.
She kissed your cheek and pulled away, placing both her hands on your shoulders, “go get em tiger.”
You emerged from the office with a new found lightness. Your first stop was Carmen. He was at his station solemnly, being uncharacteristically quiet today for the sake of Syd.
You bumped your hip against his, “hey bear.”
He didn’t look up from the pan in front of him, “hey.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that all out on you,” you said embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” he turned and gave you a small smile.
You rubbed your first over your chest, and he mimicked the gesture, a silent agreement that you were okay, water under the bridge.
You moved swiftly to the pastry station. Marcus was tense besides Luca, and you were sure a conversation about Copenhagen was had.
“Lu,” he looked up at your voice and met your eyes, “can you come outside for a sec?”
He nodded, “yes, chef.”
The formality made you wince.
He followed you out the back door, where you both jogged to the tent that was the makeshift smoking spot.
Before you could think too hard you spoke, “I want to come with you,” you said softly.
His eyes widened and a grin took over the lower half of his beautiful face.
Even in the rain his blue eyes were sparkling.
“You’re coming… to Copenhagen,” he repeated.
You nodded, “yes.”
“And you want to marry me?”
You nodded again, slightly more eager, “yes.”
You smiled up at him, and before you could say something else his hands came up and pulled your face into a warm kiss.
When he pulled away you were both smiling.
“I guess I have to get packing… and also tell everyone I know,” you said softly.
“Lu,” you said sweetly.
“Yes,” he said, still holding your face in his hands.
“Take me to Paris, I’ve always wanted to go,” you said, placing your hands on his chest.
He laughed, “I will take you, literally anywhere you want to go.”
His hands stayed on your face, he slowly moved his thumbs across your cheek bones, “I thought I was going to lose you. My stomach has been in knots all morning.”
Your hands came up to hold his wrists, “you couldn’t lose me if you tried.”
“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming with you yet, okay? I need to do it,” you said calmly.
“Absolutely,” he kissed you on the cheek, “we should get back in there.”
“And babe?” You asked.
He hummed, still looking at you.
“Go easy on Marcus, he gets mean when he’s stressed, and even more so when he’s upset. He feels like you’re abandoning him,” you held his gaze.
“Okay, love,” he pecked your lips again.
Both of you stood there touching, not wanting the moment to end, listening to the sounds of the heavy rain and enjoying the warmth emanating from one another.
He leaned down and kissed you again, a little slower this time. You moved your hands to the base of his head, playing with the soft hair that sat there. He moaned softly into your mouth at the feeling. Just as you were about to slip your tongue into his mouth, the door swung open, “WOAH! Cousin!”
Richie’s scratchy voice rang out. You jumped out of Luca’s hold like he had burned you.
“I don’t wanna see all that, I’m tryna have a smoke!” He made his way under the tent, already trying to light his cigarette.
“We were just about to head inside,” you said, moving past Richie with Luca in tow.
“Yeah, sure that’s what it looked like,” he yelled after you.
You took Lucas hand and pulled him inside, both of you blushing out of embarrassment.
Inside, the kitchen swallowed you both immediately.
The hiss of burners, the clatter of pans, Sydney calling times from the pass. The tension of service was starting to creep in whether your world had just changed or not.
Luca squeezed your hand once before letting go.
“After service?” he asked quietly.
“After service,” you promised.
You headed toward your station and could feel his eyes following you for a second before he turned back to pastry.
Marcus looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “you guys okay?”
Luca reached for a tray of choux and, for the first time all day, looked completely relaxed.
“Yeah,” he said, “more than.”
Across the kitchen, Carmen caught your expression immediately. As a brother does.
He was plating fish when he glanced up, froze, then slowly raised an eyebrow. You tried to keep your face neutral, but you failed spectacularly.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“What?” Sydney asked, noticing.
“Nothing,” Carmy said, still watching you. “Absolutely nothing.”
You rolled your eyes and focused on your prep, but your hands felt lighter than they had all morning. Every few minutes you caught yourself smiling at nothing. At the shallots. At the ticket machine. At the fact that Copenhagen was real.
Then, inevitably, your gaze drifted across the kitchen.
Luca was piping cream into pastries, and he was smiling too.
Not his usual small, amused smile. A full one. The kind that reached his eyes and made him look younger.
Marcus noticed it first.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Am I?” Luca replied, failing to hide it.
“Yeah. It’s weird. Stop,” Marcus said seriously.
Luca laughed under his breath and went back to work, but the smile never really disappeared.
Service pushed on.
You moved automatically, years of muscle memory carrying you through the rush. Yet every so often you’d catch Luca looking up from pastry, and each time he did, that same impossible grin returned to his face.
And every time it did, you felt your own answer it.
By the middle of service, Richie finally noticed.
“Why do you two look so goddamn happy?” he demanded, pointing between you with a pair of tongs.
“We’re working, cousin,” you said innocently.
“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” he said, gesturing around dramatically.
Luca ducked his head to hide another smile.
Richie looked at Carmy. “You seeing this?”
Carmy smirked without looking up from the pass, but didn’t respond.
“You know something?” Richie asked, turning towards him.
“I think I’ve put some pieces together, yeah,” he said simply.
“I hate this family,” Richie said shaking his head
“No you don’t,” you and Nat said in tandem.
The tickets kept printing. The rain kept hammering the roof. The restaurant buzzed around you.
But underneath all of it was something new.
A month from now, you would be leaving Chicago. You would be standing beside Luca in Copenhagen.
You looked up from your cutting board just as Luca looked over from pastry. Across the noise and steam and chaos of the kitchen, your eyes met.
Neither of you said a word. You simply went back to your station, unable to stop smiling. And neither could he.
Sorry this a random one guys! Tags (all): @ilocuras24 @nyxmoretti @kmc1989 @destinyg237
Chef Luca x fem!Berzatto!reader (established relationship)
Word count: 2.1k Masterlist
Summary: Luca asks you to move with him, will you blow up your relationship in typical Berzatto fashion? Or let yourself live the life you’ve always dreamed of?
AN: nobody asked for this but I’m a slut for Will Poulter and had this idea while watching season five. SEASON FIVE SPOILERS!
You couldn’t have heard him right. That couldn’t possibly be what he just asked you.
“Wha-what did you say?” Your words were shaky, you shook your head in disbelief.
“I asked you to marry me and move to Copenhagen… with me,” his accent was so overwhelming, even after years of dating, it made everything sound like silk, “I know it’s a bit of an ask, darling. If you marry me, you wouldn’t have to worry about a visa. I can’t pass this up, and I’m asking you to come with me, because I want that future we’ve been talking about.”
You could tell he was nervous, his tone was soft and a little tentative, like he knew exactly what he was asking.
“Is that supposed to be a proposal?” It’s the only thing you could think to say.
His face softened, “not the official one, I just mean it’ll make it easier. I thought we talked about it. Do you not want to marry me?”
“No, I do, Luca. This is just, I don’t know,” you gestured vaguely, “a lot.”
Your family was here, your sister, your niece, your brother, your oldest brother’s grave. You have known nothing in life but Chicago. But part of you always dreamt of more, could this be what that is? Or was this a grave mistake you were bound to fuck up?
“We have to get to the restaurant,” you moved on autopilot, not knowing what else to do. You slipped your rain jacket on.
As you walked by him, he grabbed your wrist lightly, keeping you in place.
“Look at me please,” he said barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him.
“I leave in a month.” He searched your face for a reaction, but your poker face remained in tact as you reverted back to your old ways of pushing your emotions all the way down.
“I want you to come with me, if that’s what you want. I’ll be able to support us both for a while, it could be our next chapter. But you don’t have to tell me right now,” his hands moved to cup your cheeks tenderly, and you let yourself melt just a little bit from his touch, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Lu,” you said softly, trying to blink back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill.
He moved his hands away from your face and you turned to leave, Marcus was waiting outside for you both.
The entire car ride you sat in the back as they chatted and bickered like brothers. You looked out the window at the rain absolutely pounding. The anxiety was sitting in your chest like a weight, making every breath feel like a chore.
He was so patient with you. So patient with your grief and your anxiety and your Berzatto way of handling emotions and big conversations.
By the time you got to the restaurant, you made your problems everyone else’s.
You hated that you did this, the snapping, the tone. Sydney was begging you and Carmy to stop. It wasn’t loud, there wasn’t cursing, but there were little digs. When you finally turned to Sugar and gave her similar treatment, she had decided the last hour had been enough.
She took your forearm firmly and all but dragged you into the small office. When she closed the door you immediately crossed your arms in defense.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Your sister’s blue eyes bore into you as she placed her hands on her hips, “you’re snapping at everyone, I hate when you get like this, it’s not like you.”
“Nothing,” you said, rolling your neck.
“Well, what’s bothering you then?” Nat asked, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“Nothing,” you said through gritted teeth this time. You moved to leave, but Nat stepped in front of the door.
“Sug—”
“No.” She cut you off, “you’re not leaving until you tell me.” Her hands were firm, her stance strong.
“Sug, don’t make me move you. I’m taller than you and you always forget that,” you threatened.
She scoffed, “try me.”
You sighed, seriously considering a physical altercation with your older sister, but your shoulders sagged.
Her face changed, twisting into something of concern.
Your hands came up and covered your face.
“Is it Luca? You guys have barely talked,” she pried, “he keeps looking at you like a dog that’s been kicked.”
You removed your hands, “god, you always know.”
She smirked at you.
You took a deep breath, “he’s moving to Copenhagen.”
Her jaw nearly dropped, “what?”
You took an even deeper breath, you felt like caving in on yourself, “and he asked me to… marry him and go with him.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and squeezed your eyes shut. Now she audibly gasped. “What?”
She moved from the door and stood in front of you, “I mean, you said yes right?”
You whipped your head up, “what? I didn’t say anything. I totally panicked.”
She sighed, placing both of her hands on your shoulders, “you have wanted to escape here your whole life. And you love him so much, so much I’m almost jealous. This is so exciting.”
You smiled a little, which made her smile.
“What am I supposed to do? Just marry him and fuck off to Europe indefinitely?”
“I mean, does that really sound so bad?” She said softly.
“Ugh, no.” You said with a groan, “so why am I being so stupid?”
“Because you’re a Berzatto, it’s in our blood to ruin good things,” she answered, only partly joking.
You laughed again, “you’re right.”
She pulled you into a tight hug, “I think you need to talk to him.”
You embraced her, enjoying the moment of quiet that you rarely got with your sister.
“Yeah I do.” You agreed with her.
She took a shaky breath against you, you knew that meant she was trying not to cry, “I’m really proud of you, and so happy for you.”
“I love you,” you said softly.
She kissed your cheek and pulled away, placing both her hands back on your shoulders, “go get em tiger.”
You emerged from the office with a new found lightness. Your first stop was Carmen. He was at his station solemnly, being uncharacteristically quiet today for the sake of Syd.
You bumped your hip against his, “hey bear.”
He didn’t look up from the pan in front of him, “hey.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that all out on you,” you said embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” he turned and gave you a small smile.
You rubbed your fist over your chest, and he mimicked the gesture, a silent agreement that you were okay, water under the bridge.
You moved swiftly to the pastry station. Marcus was tense besides Luca, and you were sure a conversation about Copenhagen was had.
“Lu,” he looked up at your voice and met your eyes, “can you come outside for a sec?”
He nodded, “yes, chef.”
The formality made you wince.
He followed you out the back door, where you both jogged to the tent that was the makeshift smoking spot.
Before you could think too hard you spoke, “I want to come with you,” you said softly.
His eyes widened and a grin took over the lower half of his beautiful face.
Even in the rain his blue eyes were sparkling.
“You’re coming… to Copenhagen,” he asked, like he needed to hear you say it.
You nodded, “yes.”
“And you want to marry me?”
You nodded again, slightly more eager, “yes.”
You smiled up at him, and before you could say something else his hands came up and pulled your face into a warm kiss.
When he pulled away you were both smiling.
“I guess I have to get packing… and also tell everyone I know,” you said softly.
“Lu,” you said sweetly.
“Yes,” he said, still holding your face in his hands.
“Take me to Paris, I’ve always wanted to go,” you said, placing your hands on his chest.
He laughed, “I will take you, literally anywhere you want to go.”
His hands stayed on your face, he slowly moved his thumbs across your cheek bones, “I thought I was going to lose you. My stomach has been in knots all morning.”
Your hands came up to hold his wrists, “you couldn’t lose me if you tried.”
“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming with you yet, okay? I need to do it,” you said calmly.
“Absolutely,” he kissed you on the cheek, “we should get back in there.”
“And babe?” You asked.
He hummed, still looking at you.
“Go easy on Marcus, he gets mean when he’s stressed, and even more so when he’s upset. He feels like you’re abandoning him,” you held his gaze.
“Okay, love,” he pecked your lips again.
Both of you stood there touching, not wanting the moment to end, listening to the sounds of the heavy rain and enjoying the warmth emanating from one another.
He leaned down and kissed you again, a little slower this time. You moved your hands to the base of his head, playing with the soft hair that sat there. He moaned softly into your mouth at the feeling. Just as you were about to slip your tongue into his mouth, the door swung open, “WOAH! Cousin!”
Richie’s scratchy voice rang out. You jumped out of Luca’s hold like he had burned you.
“I don’t wanna see all that, I’m tryna have a smoke!” He made his way under the tent, already trying to light his cigarette.
“We were just about to head inside,” you said, moving past Richie with Luca in tow.
“Yeah, sure that’s what it looked like,” he yelled after you.
You took Lucas hand and pulled him inside, both of you blushing out of embarrassment.
Inside, the kitchen swallowed you both immediately.
The hiss of burners, the clatter of pans, Sydney calling times from the pass. The tension of service was starting to creep in whether your world had just changed or not.
Luca squeezed your hand once before letting go.
“After service?” he asked quietly.
“After service,” you promised.
You headed toward your station and could feel his eyes following you for a second before he turned back to pastry.
Marcus looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “you guys okay?”
Luca reached for a tray of choux and, for the first time all day, looked completely relaxed.
“Yeah,” he said, “more than.”
Across the kitchen, Carmen caught your expression immediately. As a brother does.
He was plating fish when he glanced up, froze, then slowly raised an eyebrow. You tried to keep your face neutral, but you failed spectacularly.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“What?” Sydney asked, noticing.
“Nothing,” Carmy said, still watching you. “Absolutely nothing.”
You rolled your eyes and focused on your prep, but your hands felt lighter than they had all morning. Every few minutes you caught yourself smiling at nothing. At the shallots. At the ticket machine. At the fact that Copenhagen was real.
Then, inevitably, your gaze drifted across the kitchen.
Luca was piping cream into pastries, and he was smiling too.
Not his usual small, amused smile. A full one. The kind that reached his eyes and made him look younger.
Marcus noticed it first.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Am I?” Luca replied, failing to hide it.
“Yeah. It’s weird. Stop,” Marcus said seriously.
Luca laughed under his breath and went back to work, but the smile never really disappeared.
Service pushed on.
You moved automatically, years of muscle memory carrying you through the rush. Yet every so often you’d catch Luca looking up from pastry, and each time he did, that same impossible grin returned to his face.
And every time it did, you felt your own answer it.
By the middle of service, Richie finally noticed.
“Why do you two look so goddamn happy?” he demanded, pointing between you with a pair of tongs.
“We’re working, cousin,” you said innocently.
“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” he said, gesturing around dramatically.
Luca ducked his head to hide another smile.
Richie looked at Carmy. “You seeing this?”
Carmy smirked without looking up from his station, but didn’t respond.
“You know something?” Richie asked, turning towards him.
“I think I’ve put some pieces together, yeah,” he said simply.
“I hate this family,” Richie said shaking his head
“No you don’t,” you and Nat said in tandem.
The tickets kept printing. The rain kept hammering the roof. The restaurant buzzed around you.
But underneath all of it was something new.
A month from now, you would be leaving Chicago. You would be standing beside Luca in Copenhagen.
You looked up from your cutting board just as Luca looked over from pastry. Across the noise and steam and chaos of the kitchen, your eyes met.
Neither of you said a word. You simply went back to your station, unable to stop smiling. And neither could he.
Sorry this a random one guys! Tags (all): @ilocuras24 @nyxmoretti @kmc1989 @destinyg237
Would love a part two with park and crosby reader? Maybe sid gets hurt and ends up at the pitt or something like that?
I’m sorry, did you say brother in law?
Brendon Park x fem!Crosby!reader
Word count: 2.5k Masterlist Part One (can be read alone)
Summary: the story of how the Pitt crew learns about Park the Shark’s family ties.
AN: you don’t need to be a Crosby fan, basically reader with a hockey player brother and she’s married to Park! And I skipped some time from part one, their relationship is well established at this point!
This is not what you had in mind for your Friday night.
Sid had given you four tickets for the game and you couldn’t have been more excited to go with your friends. Brendon was working, so it was a total girls night. You had your favorite penguins jacket on, and even put effort into your hair and makeup. You were sitting in the club seats, enjoying the unlimited food and drinks, taking plenty of selfies with your friends, when he went down. There was a collective gasp amongst the crowd.
You didn’t even flinch at first.
Your brother had played hockey your entire life. You have watched him go down on the ice more times than you could count. If you had a dollar for every time it happened, you would never have to work again.
What made you flinch was when he didn’t get up. And what made you stand up from your seat and go down to the locker room was when they came onto the ice to carry him off.
Your parents weren’t here, your sister wasn’t here, it was just you. So you knew you had to be with him. You told your friends to stay and enjoy the perks, as you collected your things to go.
The entire walk down felt heavy, your anxiety was seeping into your bones, you could feel every step radiate through you, your entire body felt like a weight. When you finally pushed through the door, Sid sat perched on a stretcher with a grimace.
“I’m fine,” he said the second his eyes met yours.
“He is definitely not fine,” the medic standing next to him said, already exhausted with Sid’s stubbornness. “Besides your knee, it looks like a concussion, and you know the protocol for that.”
You would have laughed if you weren’t so concerned.
“He did in fact, not pass the concussion test. We’re gonna take him to Presby,” the medic started, looking down at his iPad.
“That is absolutely not needed,” Sid said.
“Can you take him to PTMC?” You asked, ignoring Sid completely.
The medic looked up at you confused, “Presby is closer.”
Sid laughed, answering before you could, “she knows some people at PTMC.”
You rolled your eyes, “I have some pull there… and since he’s obviously fine, he can handle the longer drive,” you teased.
The medic shook his head, “that’s fine with me Crosby siblings.”
The drive was relatively silent, you sat in the back of the ambulance, far too squished besides the stretcher. Sid’s knee was wrapped in ice and slightly elevated. His eyes were squeezed shut, you would assume from the headache he was lying about.
“You okay?” You asked quietly.
Sid nodded, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. When he did, you could see the disappointment all over his face.
“You didn’t let anyone down, no one is mad at you,” you added, reaching your hand out to squeeze his briefly.
“How’d you know I was thinking that?” He asked.
You shrugged, “guess I’ve known you a while or something.”
He smiled at that.
The ambulance came to a gentle stop before the back doors swung open. You stepped out first, then they pulled Sid out and started wheeling him in.
A blonde nurse approached the second you went through the doors.
“Mr. Crosby, we got a room for you right over there, Santos, trauma 3 and make sure you close the blinds and the door,” she smiled at him before walking away in a hurry.
You checked your phone again, still nothing from Brendon. You had texted him the second you had left the arena, knowing he was somewhere in the depths of PTMC.
You sat in the shitty chair in the corner of the room.
A tall older man walked in almost immediately, “hi Mr. Crosby, I’m Dr. Robby, chief of the emergency deparatment.”
He smiled politely and looked down at the chart. Robby. You knew the name from Brendon, except you really only heard complaints from him when it came to his ED coworkers. You knew his direct surgeon friends, but he tended to be private, so you really didn’t know anyone from beyond the OR.
“We have you in line for a CT scan, and we paged ortho for your knee,” he placed the chart down and looked at you both, “anything I can get you guys?”
Sidney shook his head no, but you immediately spoke, “some water, if he’s allowed,” you glanced at Sid who gave you a glare, “and do you know who’s coming from ortho?”
Robby looked confused, “um no, not yet, but you’re VIP so I’m sure it will be the attending on staff. Do you know someone up there?”
You shook your head, “not important, just wondering.” Attending, good. That’s exactly who you needed.
He gave you a tight lipped smile, although he was definitely still confused, “I’ll have someone bring you some water.”
He turned and left.
“Why can’t you just say it?” Sid asked the second the door closed.
”Because I know he’s private at work and I don’t want to be the one to start that rumor. From what I hear they move pretty fast around here,” you said, gesturing vaguely.
“It’s not really a rumor if it’s true,” he quipped back.
You simply rolled your eyes in response. A few seconds of silence passed when there was a soft knock on the door.
A dark haired man with stunning blue eyes pushed the door open, “Mr. Crosby, your water.”
“Sidney is fine,” Sid said quietly.
The man brought the water over and stood awkwardly by Sid’s side.
“Listen, I’m sorry to do this right now, but um, you’re like my hero,” he said nervously.
You snorted, still finding it funny when people gawked at your brother, because to you he was always just that.
Sid glared at you out of the corner of his eye before sticking his hand out, “thank you,” he paused waiting for a name.
“Frank,” the man said.
“Thanks, Frank,” Sid said casually.
Frank, you looked at his badge, Langdon. Oh. Last time you saw Yolanda she said her situationship in the ER got him in trouble for drugs. It was nice to put faces to the names of all the gossip you received from her.
As Frank nearly drooled over your brother, another knock sounded at the door. All three of you looked at it and he finally walked in.
When Brendon looked up from the chart his eyes widened.
“What are you both doing here?” He asked frantically, coming to meet you. You stood from the chair, trying to give him a smile, but you knew once you saw him the emotions of tonight would overwhelm you, he was your safe space.
“Hi Bren, I tried to text you,” you said as he pulled you into a quick hug.
He pulled away and turned to Sid, “sorry, they said VIP, but they didn’t give me a name or anything or i would have been faster.”
Yolanda stepped in beside Frank, “Langdon get out of here,” she said firmly.
He flinched at her firm tone, but left the room without putting up a fight.
“Are you three done with the family reunion yet?” She asked sarcastically.
You laughed and Brendon put his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch.
“Yola, this is my big brother, Sidney, Sid, this is Yolanda Garcia, the best surgical resident Pittsburgh has to offer,” they shook hands politely.
Sidney turned to Brendon, “what’s the score?”
Brendon laughed, taking his phone out of his pocket and handing the game to Sid.
”Thank god,” he whispered as he took it from him like a child being granted screen time.
Robby piled in the room with the same blonde nurse as before.
“Park. Garcia.” They both nodded at him. His eyes lingered on where Brendon’s arm held you close, but he chose to ignore it. The blonde nurse on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk.
“Have you done an assessment yet?” He asked, looking at Brendon.
Brendon shook his head, “this one is all Garcia,” he flicked his eyes to Garcia, who was snapping gloves on and removing the wrap from Sidney’s knee meticulously.
Robby furrowed his brows, looking at Park for an explanation.
“Can’t treat family,” Park said simply.
The comment only made Robby’s confusion amplify, but the nurse behind him looked borderline evil with her smirk.
“He’s my brother in law,” Brendon said simply.
Robby’s jaw dropped, “you’re married?”
You giggled quietly, fiddling with your wedding band that was hidden behind Brendon’s back.
He nodded, “yes.”
And you knew that was all the information he was going to spare at this time.
“And Sidney Crosby is your brother in law?” Robby asked, dumbfounded.
He nodded again, “yes.”
Sidney laughed lowly at the interaction, but didn’t bother looking up from the game. You said your name followed by Crosby-Park, and stretched your hand out. Robby took it slowly and tentatively, like his brain still hadn’t caught up.
“CT is ready for him and you shouldn’t be looking at screens mister,” the nurse said, “I’m Dana by the way,” she said kindly.
Sid smiled politely at her, in that Canadian way that came so easy to him.
“Garcia, you done?” She asked, getting ready to transport him.
Garcia nodded, “yeah, let’s order an MRI for the knee, X-rays they took at the arena aren’t too helpful.”
Robby mumbled in agreement, “so, I take it this is Garcia’s case and you will be overseeing it?”
Brendon nodded, “correct.”
They all began to file out of the room, Sidney with them, he handed Brendon his phone back as he left.
”Dana, can you get that Frank guy? I think he’d be willing to keep me updated on the game,” he asked kindly.
She laughed, “oh I bet he will.”
“I’ll be right here!” You shouted to your brother.
He threw you a thumbs up in response. Finally, the door closed behind him and it was just you and Brendon. You took a deep breath and faced him. His hands found your waist on instinct. Your entire body relaxed.
”You okay?” He asked, his tough ortho demeanor slipping immediately as you stood in front of him.
You nodded your head, swallowing, “I’ve never seen him go down that hard. At first I thought it was nothing, but when he didn’t get up,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. He pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.
“He’s okay,” he said, bringing his hand up to the back of your head to hold you closely.
You nodded against him, letting the few tears fall that were mostly anxiety related.
After a few moments, he pulled away and you craned your neck up to face him, wanting to stay as close to him as possible.
“So, secrets out,” you said with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes, “you were never a secret, I just don’t like these people.”
You laughed at that, a real smile forming. He brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping the stray tears away. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You held onto his biceps like they were a lifeline. You closed your eyes and let yourself feel his hands on your waist and his lips against yours. Just as your anxiety was slipping away, the door swung open. He tensed immediately.
“AH!,” you both turned around, but his grip on your waist only tightened, “oh-uh-um Dr. Park?”
The young brunette looked utterly confused. Her eyes moved frantically, from your left hand, to his on your waist, to each of your faces.
“What, Santos?” He asked, annoyed. Santos - Yolanda’s situationship, okay got it. You bit back the smirk at the information you were holding.
She began stuttering, “I came to bring the patient to um- CT, but-“
“Dana got him, do any of you communicate? Or do your jobs?” He asked, his ortho surgeon demeanor coming out again, but still holding you.
She looked between you both, now somehow even more confused, “right, um sorry.”
She swiftly closed the door and left you two. He turned back to you, holding your gaze.
But outside the door you heard it, “Whitaker! I just saw Park kissing someone! AND she had a wedding ring on!”
You heard the residents and nurses getting closer to to the room whispering.
“No! I’m not lying, Princess. I saw her! She was way too pretty to be kissing Park!” Santos added.
Brendon sighed, “okay, I guess you’re right, secrets out.”
You laughed as you pulled him towards you into another kiss.
When you pulled apart he smiled at you, “I’m done upstairs for the most part, so I’ll stay with you both and then take you guys home when they let him go,” he moved a stray hair from your face.
You smiled up at him, “you don’t have to do that, Bren. We might be here a while.”
He shrugged, “I want to stay with you, okay?”
You nodded, knowing not to press further.
“Want me to call your parents?” He asked, knowing that wasn’t something you had gotten to yet, because he simply knew all your attention was on Sidney.
“More like call them back,” you pulled your phone out, noting the missed calls from them, “but yeah, that would be helpful. I don’t have the capacity for it right now.”
He took your phone, "I know.” He didn’t mean it maliciously, he just knew you, and he knew your anxiety in a situation like this exhausted you and made you want to shut down. He always tried to take some of those things away, to make everything easier. He separated from you and took the call.
When he hung up the phone he handed it back to you, “they’ll be here in the morning.”
You nodded, knowing that was going to be the result.
“I’m off tomorrow,” he said with a small smile, knowing that would cheer you up, “and it’s a Saturday.” He added, because that meant you were off too, and those were always extra special days.
You smiled up at him, “we can sleep in.”
“Or we can go to the gym,” he countered.
“Or you can stay in bed with your wife and take a day off from bulking,” you said teasingly.
He smiled down at you softly, a smile that was reserved specifically for you, “sleep in it is.”
Your anxiety slipped away as you stood there in his arms. And you let the thought of tomorrow get you through everything tonight.
Summary: the last person you expected to run into while leisurely looking through the record store is your middle school crush Johnny Storm.
READER POV
You were sure your eyes were deceiving you.
The blonde man standing at the other end of the aisle could not possibly be Johnny Storm. Your Johnny Storm.
Well he wasn’t exactly yours. He was your crush in middle school and then in the ninth grade, your childhood best friend. But your dad’s job moved you across the country that summer. You and Johnny shared a dramatic goodbye, only to lose touch shortly after that.
Now, living in New York over a decade later, you knew what he had been up to. But that’s only because the entire world knew what the Fantastic Four had been up to. There were many nights where you almost reached for the phone, but you didn’t know what to say. “Saw the news, are you okay?” “What’s it like bursting into flames and soaring through the sky?” Then, you moved to New York and you thought about it again.
But you always came to the same conclusion, there was no way Johnny Storm remembered you. You were just a first love, if it was even that.
You were currently staring at him in the small record shop tucked on Jane Street in the West Village, mostly trying to figure out what he was doing all the way down here. You knew he lived in the Baxter Building, all the way in midtown on the east river. So why was here? Would he recognize you?
He looked devilishly handsome. His jeans were perfectly fit, his jacket cropped enough so that you could tell how tight his tshirt fit, his blonde hair was tousled in a hot way, and his sunglasses made him somehow look even hotter.
Your name being said broke you from your thoughts, making you nearly jump.
Then the laugh came, it was deeper than you remembered, but it was still the same, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He took a few steps closer to you and you shook your head, “you didn’t scare me, sorry if I was staring, it’s just been a while, I can’t believe you recognized me.”
He was smiling now too, looking at you like he was studying you, “you look the same, better even.”
You immediately blushed, and then became embarrassed that his simply words were having such an effect on you.
“So, what’re you doing here? Last I checked you were out in Cali,” he leaned his hip against the table holding all the used records, looking effortlessly flawless.
“Um yeah, I moved here a little over a year ago for work, and have been sticking it out ever since,” you tilted your head, trying to get a better look at him.
He slid his sunglasses on to the top of his head, finally showing you his beautiful blue eyes, the same eyes you used to gawk at as a thirteen year old.
He suddenly glanced at his watch, eyes slightly widened with panic, “listen, I have to go, I’m totally late and Sue is gonna kill me.”
You smiled, “no worries, it was great seeing you.”
He took a deep breath, “would it be crazy to ask for your number?”
You let out a nervous laugh, “no it wouldn’t.”
He took his phone out and handed it to you, you typed in your number, hoping he couldn’t notice that your hands were shaking with nerves.
He took it back from you, “great, it’ll be nice to uh, catch up.”
Before you could respond he was sliding his sunglasses back over his eyes and running out the door.
You were left utterly shocked and completely aware that your crush on Johnny Storm never fully went away.
JOHNNY POV
It couldn’t possibly be her. He was flipping through the pile of records without even really looking at them. He saw her when he walked in. The bell above the door rang and he threw the cashier an easy smile. Johnny had a solid fifteen minutes to kill before he had to fly up town for his team meeting, and he thought why not look for that new record. As he stopped at the first bin, he noticed the girl with headphones on. Her hair a slightly different color than the last time he saw her, but her eyes, god her eyes were exactly the same.
He could feel the heat surge through him in a panic, so what did he do? He started flipping through records without even actually reading them. He wrapped his mind around how to handle this situation while keeping his cool. The minutes ticked, and that’s when he felt her gaze shift slightly to him.
He was rushed with the memory of saying goodbye to you. It was late August, school would be starting soon and he would be starting without you. The humidity stuck to him in an uncomfortable way, but he was thankful that the sweat masked his tears. Everyone had said you were both being dramatic, that two fifteen year olds could not actually need each other this much. But when he hugged you goodbye and spared you one last glance before you hopped in your parents car to move, he couldn’t help but feel like a part of him drove away with you.
He finally worked up the courage to say your name, and once it left his lips, he couldn’t take it back.
He didn’t want to leave, in fact he would sit here and try to make you smile all day if he could, but he has your number now, and you would definitely be hearing from him. As he flamed on and flew across the city, he couldn’t help but think about you. How you looked older, but in a beautiful way. Your curves couldn’t have looked better in your dress, your hair cut flattering and extenuating your face, you looked better than he ever could imagine.
Before he knew it, he was landing on the balcony of the Baxter Building. Sue was waiting there, Franklin bouncing on her hip.
”You’re late” she said flatly. Franklin reached his arms out and Johnny happily took him from Sue.
“I know, but Sue, I saw someone today,” he told her like a little kid that had just met their favorite superhero. He was awestruck.
“Johnny we all see people all the time—“
He cut her off by saying your first and last name. The mention of it made her jaw drop. And then she smirked up at him, “well, I’ll be damned. That girl you cried over for like six months.”
She turned and walked into the building where Reed and Ben were waiting. Johnny trailed her, still holding a babbling and giggling Franklin.
Johnny scoffed, “it was not six months.”
Sue smirked again, “sure Johnny.”
“Sue.” He said firmly.
She hummed in response.
“Remember when I told you she was the love of my life when I was fifteen?” He asked.
She nodded, biting back a laugh at his theatrics.
“Well. I was right. And now I’m going to have to get her to fall in love with me again.” He said confidently.
“I'm sorry, who are we talking about?” Ben asked, waving a rocky hand in the air to get Johnny’s attention.
“None of your business Benjamin, and you’ll know soon enough. When you’re standing next to me. At our wedding,” Johnny smiled.
Ben rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath.
“At your wedding?” Sue pressed.
“Mmhmm,” Johnny replied.
“Let’s start the meeting before he starts talking about hypothetical children,” Reed said, interrupting.
Everyone sat down at the table and started discussing experiments and crime analytics, but all Johnny could focus on was how he was going to woo you.
READER POV
You basically skipped the whole way home. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, just letting muscle memory guide you.
There was a goofy smile on your face and you thanked god that no one is New York cared about things like that.
The text from Johnny came less than an hour later.
Unknown: I know we just saw each other, but I have a feeling waiting three days to ask you out would be a mistake.
Before you even finished reading it, another message popped up. You typed his name in, that way there was no risk of losing his number.
Johnny: Dinner? Friday? I'll plan everything.
You stared at the screen for far longer than necessary before smiling to yourself, biting your cheek to hide the emotion.
You: I'd like that.
You flopped onto your bed like a school girl, was it a date? Were you being insane? Now you just had to make it to Friday.
FRIDAY
JOHNNY POV
Johnny Storm has saved the world more times than he could count.
Planning one date, however, was proving to be his greatest challenge. He used his name to make reservations at the nicest rooftop restaurant in Manhattan.
He hired a driver to start the evening, and even put on trousers as opposed to his usual jeans. He was so nervous. Johnny Storm was never this nervous, especially about a date.
But he knew he was going to knock this out of the park.
He didn’t realize the universe had other plans.
READER POV
The evening started wonderfully.
Johnny showed up with flowers, leaning casually against a black car that was fancier than anything you had ever sat in. The flowers looked like they'd been picked and curated perfectly rather than bought.
“You remembered,” you smiled.
“You always used to say you liked the wildflower field by the middle school,” he shrugged, trying to act casual.
You stared at him, “You remember that?”
Everything went south approximately twenty-three minutes later.
The restaurant called while you were in the cab.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Storm, we've had to close for the evening,” the lady said nervously.
Johnny frowned, “uhhh what happened?”
“There appears to be...a hole in our roof,” she said it tentatively, like she knew how ridiculous it sounded.
He hung up the phone and turned to you, “luckily I have a back up, because nothing can stop us from having a good night.”
You smiled at him, “we really don’t need to do anything crazy. I'm just happy to be here, catching up with you.”
Plan B was a jazz club, but halfway there, alarms erupted down the block.
Johnny sighed, “oh you've got to be kidding me.”
A very obviously stolen armored truck came barreling through an intersection.
He looked at you apologetically, slipping his jacket off and leaving his sunglasses in the care seat, “give me sixty seconds.”
“You know,” you called after him, “most guys fake emergencies to get out of dates.”
“Not an excuse sweetheart, I’ll be right back!” He shouted as he flamed on.
Exactly four minutes and twelve seconds later, he landed beside you with soot on his cheek and one sleeve singed.
“So uh, did I impress you yet?” He said as he caught his breath.
You laughed, “we’re definitely off to a unique start.”
The traffic ahead of you was relentless, but finally an hour later they found themselves in a tiny dive bar tucked beneath the skyrises that lined Manhattan.
The sign outside only had half its lights working. When you walked in, the bartender nodded to the booth in the corner and Johnny thanked him. A few seconds later he brought two beers.
A jukebox hummed softly in the corner. It didn’t really matter where you were, because you were with him. If fourteen year old you knew you were on a date with him she would’ve screamed.
The first three beers went down easily, you enjoyed each others company more than you even remembered doing so. It was like fitting two puzzle pieces together at the end of it all, and seeing the beautiful picture you had been waiting for.
You told him all about work, what brought you to New York. Your roommate horror story, and why you live in a studio now. And you finally got the chance to ask how he was after everything that happened.
He was a little thrown by your question, “no one has ever really asked me that.” He said it softly, with a small smile, just happy you cared.
“I’m sorry,” he said, after the bartender brought you a basket of fries.
You looked over at him, which wasn’t hard considering you were tucked in a booth, “for what?”
“I wanted tonight to be,” he gestured vaguely, “perfect.”
“It was,” you said simply. You took a long sip from the beer you had resting between your hands.
He blinked, “no I don’t think it was.”
“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” you held his gaze, “it was just nice, I don’t know being… friends again. It was always so easy with you, even when we were young.”
He looked slightly upset by your words, but he quickly bounced back, “yeah friends.”
You winced, not even realizing you had said it, “but I must admit, I always had such a big crush on you, so when you asked me to dinner, I couldn’t help but be a little giddy.”
His eyes widened slightly at the admission, “I always had a crush on you too. That’s why— when I saw you the other day, I thought that has to be fate.”
You nodded in agreement.
“Sue used to always make fun of me,” he rolled his eyes at the memory, “she said you would make me blush.”
You laughed softly, “yeah well, I can one up you. I wrote ‘Mrs. Johnny Storm’ on all my notebooks in fifth grade.”
He laughed impossibly hard at that, nearly spitting out his beer. You laughed so hard you had to wipe your eyes. He had you laughing all night, to the point where you knew your ribs would hurt tomorrow.
When you both finally settled down, you looked around the tiny bar.
An older couple danced beside the jukebox despite them being the only ones. A college kid was losing terribly at darts with his friends. The bartender was humming along to an old Fleetwood Mac song.
Then you looked back at Johnny, who was already looking at you.
His jacket was draped over your shoulders because you shivered once when you walked in and he insisted.
“You know what?” you said quietly.
“What?” He said, still holding your gaze.
“If everything had gone according to plan,” you paused, taking in his blue eyes, “I don't think I would've laughed nearly this much.”
His expression softened, “this has been fun. I haven’t laughed this hard in a really long time.”
“I’m having the best time,” you said softly.
His shoulders relaxed for the first time all evening. For a long moment neither of you spoke, just sitting in one another’s company.
Then Johnny moved, closed the tiny space between you, and cupped your face.
“I've wanted to kiss you since middle school and all those feelings came back the second I walked into that record store,” he said, breath fanning against your lips.
Your breath hitched, “so what's stopping you?”
Before either of you could say anything else, he closed the small space left between you and captured your lips in a soft kiss.
You had dreamt of kissing Johnny Storm for years and years and it was better than you ever imagined. He was so warm and his lips were softer than any man you’d ever kissed.
When you finally pulled away,he kept his hands on your face. Johnny smiled at you nervously.
“So, when’s our second date?” You said boldly.
He laughed and you bit your lip to hide your grin.
“I’m free tomorrow,” he smiled, “or for you, pretty much any day.”
You laughed at that, “tomorrow it is then.”
Two Years Later
JOHNNY POV
“So,” Ben said, adjusting his tie, “you're nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” Johnny scoffed, immediately pulling his collar out from what Ben just fixed, “this tie is just choking me.
“You've checked your pocket for the ring six times,” Ben said knowingly.
Johnny checked his pocket again.
“Okay, make it seven times,” Ben added.
Sue laughed, “you've been carrying that ring around for three weeks.”
“Suzanne,” Johnny deadpanned, “what if the perfect moment arose?”
“There is no perfect moment,” Reed said.
“There is,” Johnny answered, “for her there is.”
It was a cool Friday night. The leaves had just started to change in New York. He sat outside your office, waiting for you to change into your favorite outfit before taking you on your surprise date.
The record shop hadn't changed. The bell above the door still jingled. The owner still nodded at you in recognition.
Johnny walked you to the same aisle where he'd first seen you again.
“You've been weird all day,” you teased, looking around, a little confused as to why Johnny told you to wear your nicest outfit to the record shop.
He sighed, “I know.”
“You've barely made a joke,” you said with a frown.
He didn’t say anything, he just took your hands in his.
“I used to think the luckiest day of my life was the day I got my powers,” he took a deep breath, “but it wasn’t.”
You smiled up at him, suddenly aware that the owner had slipped into the back and it was just you two.
He swallowed, “it was the day I met you.”
Your eyes immediately softened.
“And then I thought I lost you forever, I sulked for months when you moved,” he laughed quietly, “but apparently life just needed us to grow up first.”
He reached into his pocket, trying to steady himself and now show you his shaking fingers.
The music changed, it was soft and warm. The lights also flicked off and before you could question it, string lights that hung neatly from the ceiling were turned on all above you, casting a soft, gold hue all around you.
He lowered himself onto one knee.
“I loved you when we were kids,” a tear escaped down your cheek, “I fell in love with you all over again when I saw you standing right here. You've made every ordinary day since then feel extraordinary.”
He opened the ring box, exposing the largest diamond you had ever seen, “so,” he smiled through his own watery eyes, “how about we stop calling you my first love and let you be my last?”
You laughed through your tears, bringing both your hands to cover your mouth, “Johnny.”
He raised his eyebrows.
You moved your hands away from your face, letting out a wet laugh, “you haven’t asked me yet, honey.”
His eyes widened, “oh my god.”
He laughed too, “will you marry me?”
You didn't answer right away, you crouched down so that you were eye level with him,
“Yes,” then louder you repeated it, “a million times yes.”
Johnny slipped the ring onto your finger before pulling you into a crushing kiss.
When you finally pulled away, you smiled at him. You both stood up and kissed your forehead.
You intertwined your fingers with his, “come on, everyone is waiting for us at home.”
And together, laughing the whole way out the door, you stepped back onto Jane Street, exactly where your second chance had begun.
