Pairing: Cullen Family x Female!Reader (Platonic), Quileute Pack x Female!Reader (Platonic)
Summary: Reader is the youngest addition to the Cullen family. Being a human with severe asthma causes your family to be extra protective, especially if they aren’t always around to help.
Word Count: 4128
Warnings: fluff, angst, near death experience, brief mentions of self-degrading thoughts
A/N: This is my first time posting my writing so feedback would be greatly appreciated! (Main account @hi-my-name-is-riley )
Being adopted into the Cullen family was nothing short of a blessing.
They quickly became the family you never had but had always wanted. Early on, you found yourself gravitating towards Emmett and Edward, the two quickly became your best friends.
It was not long after you had been adopted that they told you their secret. The revelation came after you saw Emmett uproot a literal tree and throw it at Jasper, who walked away completely unscathed.
The family made you feel loved. Your brothers were protective of you, as were your sisters. Carlisle would always find time to talk to you about school and how you were adjusting, while Esme kept the kitchen stocked with your favorite foods.
Being the only human in a family of vampires had its ups and downs. For instance, you always had help with your homework, and Alice was a fantastic stylist. On the other hand, you were still human, and that brought along human problems.
When you were first adopted into the Cullen family, Carlisle was sure to inform everyone about your pre-existing health problems.
Mainly, your asthma.
You were diagnosed with asthma at an early age and had been able to use your inhaler and nebulizer, or breathing treatment, as you fondly called it, since before you could remember. But, just because you were used to your crappy lungs, didn’t mean that your new family was.
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Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x mom!wife!reader x twins!toddlers
Warnings: mild angst, high fevers, sick children, needles, IVs, fluff ending
Summary: A midnight fever transforms an ordinary bedtime into every parent's worst nightmare, leaving you with no choice but to rush your four year old twins, Luca and Lily, to the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
🎀 based on this request 🎀
It was 2 AM. Your head throbbed in time with Lily’s relentless and exhausting whimpers.
The field trip to the local farm earlier that day had been a cute disaster of heat, animals and pollen, but by bedtime, it had mutated into something worse.
A spiking fever of 103.4°F, a fiery red rash creeping up Lily's neck, and a terrifyingly lethargic demeanor that left you with no choice. You had thrown coats over their pajamas, scooped them up, and driven to the one place you hoped you wouldn’t have to visit tonight.
"Mama, it hurts," Lily sobbed into your neck, her body radiating heat. One of her little hands was clamped in a death grip around her tattered Jellycat bunny, its ears damp from her tears.
"I know, baby. I know. The doctor is going to help make it stop," you murmured, rocking her back and forth in the hard plastic waiting room chair. Your arms felt like lead.
Next to you, four year old Luca pressed himself tightly against your side. He wasn't crying, but his knuckles were white where he held his book. He was trying desperately to tune out the chaos of the ER; the blaring ambulance sirens outside, the coughs of a man three seats down, the hurried footsteps of the staff. He stared hard at the cartoon pictures, his lips moving silently as he tried to read the words he’d memorized.
For the sixth time, you pulled out your phone and hit dial.
Hello, this is Dr. Abbot-
You cut it off, swallowing the lump of frustration and fear in your throat. Jack was on the night shift, but the ER was absolutely slammed. You knew how it went; when the department red lined, personal phones were non-existent. But right now, you didn’t care about hospital protocols. You just wanted your husband.
"Mrs. Abbot?"
You snapped your head up. Lena, the night shift charge nurse, was standing there with a clipboard, her eyes widening in recognition as she looked at you, then down at the twins in their matching pajamas.
"Lena," you breathed, a wave of relief washing over you.
"Oh, honey, what are you doing here? Is it Lily?" Lena instantly dropped into a crouch, pressing the back of her hand to Lily's flushed forehead. She cursed softly under her breath. "She’s burning up. Come on, let’s get you guys out of this waiting room right now. I'm putting you straight into Exam Room 4."
You gathered Lily in one arm and grabbed Luca’s small, trembling hand with the other, following Lena through the double doors into the chaotic centre of the ER.
The noise doubled. Trays clattered, monitors beeped frantically, and doctors shouted orders. Luca clung to your coat, burying his face in your hip, while Lily just wailed, terrified by the commotion.
"Jack is in the middle of a trauma in Bay 2, maybe that's why he hasn't answered," Lena explained hurriedly as she guided you down the hallway. "But as soon as he's—"
"Daddy!"
A desperate scream tore from Lily’s throat, cutting through the ambient noise of the corridor.
You froze. A few yards ahead, the doors to Trauma Bay 2 swung open. Jack stepped out, tearing off a pair of bloody surgical gloves and tossing them into a biohazard bin. His hair messy and his scrubs disheveled.
Before you could tighten your grip, Lily’s adrenaline kicked in. She wriggled violently out of your arms, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. Dropping her Jellycat bunny, she ran toward him, her tiny pajama clad frame shaking with shuddering sobs.
"Daddy! Daddy, it hurts!"
Jack snapped his head toward the sound of the voice, his entire body going rigid.
"Lily?" his voice cracked. "Princess, what are you doing here?"
He didn't care who was watching. He scooped her up and Lily collapsed against him.
"H-Hurts, daddy, all hurts." she cried against him.
"Okay, I’ve got you, princess. Daddy’s here." Jack choked out, his eyes instantly tracking over her flushed skin.
He looked up, his gaze finding yours across the hallway. The sheer panic and heartbreak in his eyes mirrored your own, the heavy weight of the night crashing down on both of you in the middle of the crowded ER floor.
The door to Exam Room 4 clicked shut, muting the hallway chaos, but the tension inside the room was palpable.
Jack had Lily up on the examination table, but she was having none of it. The high fever made her sensitive, irritable, and completely uncooperative.
Every time Jack tried to bring the stethoscope near her chest, she shrieked, kicking her legs and thrashing against the paper lining of the table.
"No! No, Daddy, don't wanna!" she wailed, her face purple, tears soaking the front of her pajamas. She was clutching her Jellycat bunny to her chest like a shield, burying her nose into its plush fur.
"Lily, baby, please. Daddy just needs to listen to your lungs," Jack pleaded. He reached out to gently hold her shoulder, but she twisted away, sobbing harder. "Hey, look at me, princess. Look at Daddy. I need you to take a big breath for me."
"No! Go 'way! Mommy help!"
Across the room, you sat holding Luca tightly on your lap. He had abandoned his book on the counter; his small hands were now hooked securely into the collar of your shirt. He was staring at his sister with wide eyes, his own chest heaving in sync with her jagged breaths.
"Mama?" Luca whispered, his voice trembling as he leaned his head back against your shoulder. "Is Lily gonna be okay?"
"She's going to be fine, baby," you murmured, kissing the top of his head, though your eyes were locked on Jack’s stressed jawline. "Daddy is looking at her. He's going to fix it."
Luca shook his head, his tiny brow furrowing. "My tummy feels hot, Mama. Right here." He pressed a small hand against his center. "Like Lily's. She feels real bad. I can feel it."
The twin connection had always been something you joked about when they were toddlers, how they’d wake up at the exact same second or cry when the other fell, but tonight, looking at Luca’s pale face, it wasn't a joke.
He was absorbing her distress, carrying the ghost of her fever in his own quiet way.
Jack caught Luca's words and glanced over his shoulder. The sight of his son looking so small and frightened, paired with Lily’s hysterical crying, made a muscle twitch in his jaw.
He looked back at Lily and gently tried to check the lymph nodes in her neck.
"Don't!" Lily screamed, slapping at his hand with a sudden burst of frantic feverish energy. She kicked out, her foot catching Jack squarely in the chest.
Jack didn't even flinch at the impact, but he dropped his hands, letting out a defeated breath. He ran a hand through his hair, turning to look at you with absolute desperation in his eyes.
"Baby, her heart rate is too high, and I need to get blood draws, but she won't even let me look at her throat," Jack said, his voice dropping to a low whisper so he wouldn't scare her further. He looked completely helpless, a man torn between his medical training and his paternal instinct to just hold his crying daughter and make the world stop hurting. "I don't want to have to restrain her, but she’s burning up, and I need answers."
"Let me try," you said softly, trying to sound steady in the middle of the room’s rising panic.
Carefully easing Luca off your lap, you gave his hand a squeeze. "Stay right here with your book for a second, okay, buddy?" He nodded solemnly, sitting on the edge of the chair and hugging the book tight against his chest, his eyes never leaving his twin.
You walked over to the exam table and gently stepped into Jack’s space. He looked at you and stepped back just enough to let you through.
"Hi, my beautiful girl," you cooed. You didn't try to touch her right away. Instead, you smoothed down the ears of her bunny. "Bunny is so brave today, Lily. But Bunny told me he’s really tired, and he wants to rest."
Lily’s screaming hitched into little hiccups. She looked at you through tear soaked eyes. "B-Bunny is tired?"
"So tired," you murmured, gently scooping Lily up into your arms. The heat radiating off her small body struck you, making your chest tight with a surge of adrenaline. You sat down on the edge of the exam table, rocking her against your chest, burying your face in her hair. "You can hold Bunny, but you need to calm down so he can rest. We need you to take a big breath. Like we're blowing out birthday candles. Ready? Let's do it together."
Lily copied you, a shaky breath rattling in her chest. Slowly, the rigid tension in her muscles began to melt, her heavy head dropping onto your shoulder. She stopped fighting.
Jack didn't waste a second. He stepped back in. With you holding her still and whispering reassurances into her ear, he was finally able to check her throat, listen to her lungs, and gently feel the rash.
When it came time for the blood draw, you blocked Lily's view, pressing her face into your neck while Jack placed the needle. Lily cried out, a sharp heartbroken sound, but she didn't thrash.
"We're going to do some tests, ultrasounds, and the labs will be in an hour."
It felt like hours, though it was only forty five minutes, before Jack read the results, and the tension in his shoulders visibly shifted.
He approached you and, as he passed by a sleepy Luca he gently placed a hand on his head.
"The labs came back," Jack said, his voice quiet. He pulled up a stool and sat directly in front of you, taking Lily's limp hand in his. "It’s a severe bacterial infection, likely from something she came into contact with at the farm, compounded by an allergic reaction that triggered the rash. That’s why the fever spiked so fast."
You let out a breath.
"You can treat her, right, love? Give her medicine? Can we go home?"
Jack shook his head. "No. Because her fever is so high and she's dehydrated, I want her on continuous IV antibiotics and fluids overnight. Lena is already arranging a pediatric room upstairs for us. We're keeping her."
The word keeping felt wrong.
You just wanted to take your babies home.
You had managed to stay strong for the last hours, but the reality of spending the night in a hospital room broke through your defenses.
You tried to nod, tried to say okay, but your jaw trembled. You reached down to adjust the blanket over Lily, who had finally drifted into a restless medical sleep, and your hands were shaking so violently you couldn't grip the fabric.
A tear spilled over your lashes, tracking down your cheek.
Jack noticed instantly. He reached out, his hands wrapping completely over yours, capping the tremor.
"Hey, doll," he whispered, standing up. "She’s going to be okay. We caught it. We know exactly what it is, and we know how to fix it. But she need to stay a few hours."
"I was so scared, Jack," you choked out, your voice barely audible. "You weren't answering, and i didn't want to bother you neither, but she was so hot, and Luca was very anxious about coming here, you know how he feels about hospitals and I—"
"I know. I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Jack interrupted you, his own voice cracking as he tightened his grip on your trembling hands, kissing your forehead. "But I'm here now. I'm signing off my shift. I'm going upstairs with you, and I'm not leaving the room until they discharge her."
-
The pediatric room felt.. calm, some way. The steady sound of the monitors was finally pulling everyone into a sense of calm.
On the small pull out couch against the far wall, you sank deeply into the cushions, pulling a thin hospital blanket up to your chin. The absolute exhaustion of the night had finally caught up to you. Your muscles ached from hours of carrying the weight of a sick child.
You rested your head back, watching the scene unfold by the bedside.
Lily was tucked into the hospital bed, her color slowly returning to a normal pale. Her breathing was deep and even, one hand still draped over the ear of her Jellycat bunny.
Jack'd pulled a recliner right up against the edge of the hospital bed so he could stay within arm’s reach of his daughter.
Luca, having endured the terrifying night, was on his father's lap, looking over the bed rail. He had been so brave all night, and now that the danger had passed, he refused to leave his sister's side.
"She's sleeping," Luca whispered.
"She is, bud," Jack said as he reached up, gently lifting Luca so he could sit safely on the mattress edge, tucked against Lily’s side. "She’s resting, Lu. The medicine is doing its work."
Luca reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed a stray hair away from his sister’s forehead. He didn't pull away; he seemed to be checking the temperature for himself, satisfied that the fire was gone. Then, he did the sweetest thing: he carefully slid his own little hand into Lily’s, locking their fingers together.
"I knew what she was feeling... bad. Twin power," Luca whispered, a small proud smile touching his lips.
Jack let out a smile. He reached over, covering their joined hands with his own large, steady one. "Yeah, buddy. Twin power. She knows you're here. That’s why she’s resting so well."
"Is she having good dreams now, Daddy?" Luca whispered.
Jack leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Luca’s head, his hand sliding up to rub his son's back. "I think she is. Especially since you're holding her. You're keeping the bad dreams away."
Luca nodded seriously, accepting the job of taking care of his sister.
From the couch, you let out a breath. Jack’s gaze drifted away from the bed, his eyes searching the room until they found yours. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders finally relaxed against the cushions, completely spent.
He didn't speak, he didn't want to break the fragile quiet, but the look he gave you was filled with gratitude.
He mouthed a silent, 'I love you,' his eyes promising that he had the watch now. You could finally sleep.
You nodded, and mouthed an 'I love you,' back.
When the morning light filtered through the hospital blinds, the room was filled with the sound of plastic clattering, tiny giggles, and a familiar deep laugh.
You blinked against the light, shifting the scratchy blanket, and looked over at the bed.
Lily was sitting propped up against a mountain of pillows, the flushed fever entirely gone from her cheeks. She was in a fantastic mood, her eyes bright as she happily swung her unencumbered leg. Luca had abandoned his chair and was curled right up on the mattress beside her, the two of them sharing a massive hospital breakfast tray.
"Look, Lulu! A smiley face!" Lily chirped, pointing a syrup covered finger at a pancake.
"I like the bacon better," Luca replied, stuffing a piece into his mouth. The tattered Jellycat bunny was currently sitting between them, acting as a guest at their breakfast party.
Your heart swelled at the sight.
"Morning, my sleepyhead."
The voice came from beside you. You turned your head to find Jack sitting on the couch. At some point during the early morning hours, he must have slipped away from the bedside to join you, curling his frame around yours to keep you warm. His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He looked exhausted but the sheer relief radiating off him was palpable.
"Morning, handsome," you rasped. You shifted, turning in his embrace so you could look up at him. "How long have they been up? How is she?"
"About an hour," Jack murmured, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your cheek. His hands slid under the blanket, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back to work out the knots from the stiff couch. "The pediatric team came in at six. Her vitals are perfect, the rash is fading, and her bloodwork is clearing up. We're getting discharged after lunch."
"Thank you," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his collarbone. "For taking care of her. For being here."
Jack tightened his grip on you, burying his face in your messy hair, inhaling deeply. "You're the one who calmed her down, sweetheart. You were incredible. I'm just sorry I wasn't there from the start."
"You're here now," you murmured, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, tender, deeply affectionate kiss, a quiet celebration that the storm had passed.
"Eww, Daddy and Mommy are kissing!"
A high pitched giggle broke the silence. You both pulled apart, laughing, to see Lily and Luca staring at you from the bed.
Jack didn't let you go, keeping you tucked securely against his side as he looked over at the twins with a bright smile. "Well, Mama deserves all the kisses of the world. And as soon as you two finish those pancakes, you're next."
The twins erupted into giggles, turning back to their breakfast tray, completely happy to have their world back to normal.
True to Jack’s word, the discharge papers were signed and ready after lunch. You left the hospital with Luca for a while, to change into something clean and to dress Lily in new clothes after they removed her IV. Inside the room, the atmosphere shifted the moment a knock sounded at the door.
A nurse entered, holding a small tray with medical tape remover, gauze, and a colorful bandage. "Hi there, Lily! I'm just here to take that little straw out of your arm so you can go home."
The moment Lily saw the tray, her eyes went wide. The residual trauma of the frantic night rushed back all at once. She scrambled backward on the hospital bed, her back hitting the headboard as she tucked her arm tightly against her chest.
"No! No more needles! Daddy!" she cried, her voice cracking as tears instantly flooded her eyes. She reached out blindly with her free hand, grabbing the ear of her Jellycat bunny and squeezing it like a lifeline. "I want Mama! No needles!"
"Hey, princess, come here," Jack said instantly. He stepped right up to the side of the bed and climbing onto the mattress with her. He pulled her trembling body directly into his lap, wrapping his arms around her so she felt completely safe. "There are no more needles, Lily. I promise you. The nurse is just taking it off."
"It's gonna hurt!" she sobbed, burying her face into Jack’s shirt.
"I'm going to hold you the whole time," Jack murmured. He gently coaxed her arm out, holding her hand firmly but gently, keeping her fingers locked in his so she couldn't pull away or look at what the nurse was doing. "Do you remember the story Luca was reading last weekend? About the animals going to the sea?"
Lily gave a hiccuping nod against his chest.
"What color was the boat?" Jack asked softly, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, creating a soothing friction to distract her.
"R-Red," she whispered.
"That's right. And who was on the boat?" Jack kept his voice low and conversational, nodding to the nurse, who moved with efficiency. She applied the tape remover, peeling back the plastic dressing smoothly.
"A bear," Lily snuffled, her grip tightening on Jack’s fingers as she felt the tape lift. "And-And a... a p-pig."
"And a pig. Good job," Jack praised, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He could feel her tiny heart racing against his ribs, but she wasn't thrashing. "Look at that, almost done, brave girl."
The nurse smiled warmly, pressing a bright pink patterned bandage over the tiny puncture site. "All done! You were so brave, sweetie."
Lily blinked, sniffing hard as she looked down at her arm. The scary tube was gone. She let out a breath and looked up at Jack, her eyes still watery but the panic entirely gone. "Stings. Didn't hurt."
"See? Daddy told you," Jack smiled as he wiped a tear from her cheek. He squeezed her tight, rocking her for a long moment. "You're all done, princess. Let's wait for Mom and Luca for come back so we can go home."
A few minutes later, the door pushed open. "We're back!" Luca announced proudly, stepping into the room first.
You followed close behind, carrying a tote bag. You had slipped home for forty five minutes while Jack handled the discharge paperwork, giving you and Luca just enough time to wash off and change out of your rumpled clothes. Now, you were holding a pair of clean, tiny denim overalls and a bright yellow t-shirt for Lily, a replacement for her pajamas.
The moment the door opened, Lily snapped her head around. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs, looking entirely renewed.
"Mama! Look!" Lily squealed, scrambling off the mattress before Jack could even catch her.
She sprinted across the room, her bare feet pattering against the linoleum floor, and skidded to a halt right in front of you. She thrust her left forearm directly into your face, pointing proudly to a bright pink heart patterned bandage.
"The nurse gave me a heart band!" Lily beamed, all the terror of the needle completely forgotten. "And Daddy held my hand the whole time and it didn't even hurt, and the bad straw is gone!"
"Oh, wow! Look at that," you laughed, dropping to your knees so you were eye level with her. You gently pressed a kiss right next to the bandage, making her giggle. "That is the cutest bandage I’ve ever seen. You are so brave, my girl."
Jack stepped up behind her, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He caught your eye over Lily's head, a soft smirk playing on his lips. He gave you a subtle nod that let you know the IV removal had been a success, despite the initial tears.
"I'm brave too, right Mama?" Luca asked, tapping your arm. He was wearing his favorite superhero shirt now. "I kept the bad dreams away last night with twin power."
"The bravest," you promised, pulling him into a one armed hug.
"Yeah! Twin power!" Lily cheered. She suddenly grabbed Luca’s hand, her mood completely doing a 180 from the crying toddler of the night before. Now that she was free of the wires and the fever, her baseline four year old energy was back. "Luca! Come look at the big truck out the window! Hurry!"
"A truck?!" Luca’s eyes went wide.
Before you or Jack could even utter a word of caution, Lily dropped her Jellycat bunny onto the floor, spun on her heel, and the two of them bolted out the open door of the hospital room, their laughter echoing down the hallway toward the playroom windows.
You stayed on your knees for a second, staring at the empty doorway, then slowly stood up. You looked at the tattered bunny on the floor, then turned to look at your husband.
Jack stood there, a stray piece of medical tape stuck to his pants, his hair wildly messy, and his shoulders slumped in utter exhaustion.
He stared at the empty hallway, blinked, and then let out a chuckle.
"Well," Jack murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to scoop up the abandoned stuffed animal. "Her energy levels seem back to normal."
"Yeah," you laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. "I think she’s officially fine."
SUMMARY: Lando has a seven-year-old son from a previous relationship and they co-parent him. Lando's girlfriend of three years has seen him grow and tries her best with him, but sometimes it just seems like she cant to anything right.
WORDS: 1452
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When I started dating Lando three years ago I didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't a four-year kid, the racing and being famous part and Lando managing to juggle all of it. In the beginning, Finn was “Lando's son” a title he just held, because how else was I supposed to approach the fact that the person I am newly dating is co-parenting a child he had pretty early in his life and who is kind of part of my life now as well. Lando was pretty careful at first and I didn't meet his son until we were absolutely sure and deeply into a relationship and so "Lando's son” became just Finn over time.
Three years have gone by so quickly and watching Finn grow was something so special. As well as the first time he held my hand in a scary situation or fell asleep on my shoulder during a movie. And somewhere between bedtime stories, scraped knees and watching cartoons in the morning, Finn has become an important part in this relationship.
And still Finn has a mom, a wonderful woman he calls mama and she is absolutely fire in her job and taking care of Finn. Figuring out the co-parenting with Lando was long done before I entered the picture and they both always manage to put Finn first. Still, I learned a lot of things in the last three years. Dinosaur facts, playing endless rounds of Uno and that children somehow manage to survive on apple juice, chicken nuggets and laughter.
Of course it was never my intention to replace his mama, I just want to be someone Finn can count on, someone else in his corner, but sometimes this just feels harder than I thought it would be.
One time, while Finn was still practising tying his shoes, he insisted on doing it himself, but just couldn't get it. “I don't know how anymore.” He told me and I knelt in front of him. Slowly showed him how to make the loops and tie them together. Finn watched my movements, but then just shook his head.
“My mama is better at that.” He says with an honesty only kids have, but I still smiled. “That’s why I am practising getting better at this.” I just told him because I never taught someone how to tie shoes before and Finn accepted that explanation with a thoughtful nod.
A few weeks later, Finn and I were decorating cupcakes, colourful sugar bombs for the next family gathering. And well, maybe Finn was more content about decorating anything but the cupcakes with the icing. His cheeks covered, my sleeves as well, and I am pretty sure that one of the dogs got a splash of pink as well. When he gets bored, Finn takes a look at my cupcakes.
“Mama does this differently.” He announced and I looked at my swirls of icing which cover the tops of the cupcakes. “Better or just different?” I ask Finn, because just because those cupcakes look different like he is used to doesn’t mean they don’t look good.
“They look better.” Finn decided with a tilted head, before hopping off the barstool again. I laughed, startled by the honesty, but just said “I suppose I still have to practice then.”
On the next rainy Sunday, it happens again. We were building a blanket fort that barely held out ten minutes, before collapsing on top of us. Finn crawled back out of it, holding one of his favourite blankets, looking at me thoughtfully.
“Can you do this like mama does?” He asks me, before doing some complicated folding technique that leaves me with question marks. “Nope.” I said and he giggled. “We can figure something out together.” I then told him and apparently that was fine. We got every pillow in the house and when Lando returned from getting some takeout, he found us on something that was more of a pillow mountain than a blanket fort. He laughed loudly and served us lunch on top of the pillows.
Finn's comparisons never stopped, but they were never meant to be cruel. He is simply living in a world where his mama does things one way and I do them differently. Still, his comparisons are leaving tiny bruises on my inside and they kind of pile up by now.
I wait until Finn is in bed that day before I finally say something to Lando, who is currently loading the dishwasher, while I just stare at the towel in my hands.
“Do you think that I am bad at acting as a mother figure to him?” I ask him and Lando freezes in his movements, plate just halfway in the dishwasher, when he turns around. “Why? Has somebody said something?” He quickly asks and I slowly shake my head.
“He compares me to his mama, which is fine, but sometimes it hurts.” I explain how those thoughts came to my mind and Lando sets the plate aside and takes two steps in my direction. He takes the towel out of my hands and tosses it on the counter before taking my hands in his instead.
“Love…” He mumbles that thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “Finn loves to compare everything.” Lando says before adding. “My cooking to his grandmas, my driving to Oscar's, his football shoes to his friends and most importantly, ice cream flavours.” A tiny smile tugs on my lips before Lando continues.
“And you know why?” He says, not even waiting for an answer “Because he is an annoying little seven-year-old.” I laugh over the lump in my throat and Lando lifts my chin so that I look at him.
“He doesn't compare you because he wishes for you to be different. He compares you because it is normal for him.” Lando explains and I sigh, somehow knowing that, but it still stings. “You are not there to replace his mama.” He gently says and I answer, “I know” Because that’s not what I want to do, but Lando just mumbles “But you are becoming another safe place for him.” And while a tear rolls down my cheek, I lean against Lando's chest, listening to his reassuring “You are perfect with him.”
A month later I feel better when Finn compares me to his Mama and just try to see it as Lando explained it. It is normal for someone his age to do so. I am just making breakfast when Finn tiredly enters the kitchen but has a determined look on his face. He doesn't greet me, just shuffles from one foot to the other, before he just blurts out.
“Can I call you mom?”
Everything inside me stops, before my heart and head start racing. Setting the knife aside to turn to Finn, crouching down to his height. “If you really want to and if your mama is okay with it.” I say, because I don't want to overstep any boundaries here, but Finn just nods quickly.
“I talked with her about it.” He says and I blink once, twice, before reassuring myself that I heard him right. “You did?” And Finn enthusiastically nods again. “She said families don't have to be blood they just have to be loved ones.” And at this, I have to blink quickly, fighting back the tears.
“Then I am fine with it.” I give him my okay and the biggest grin spreads on Finn's lips. “Thanks, mom.” He says that, arms wrapping around my neck and just when I hug him back, I see Lando entering the kitchen, eyeing us with a tilted head. Finn leans into me for another moment and I just feel warmth in that moment. Then he lets go and runs off to the living room, like he hasn't just changed everything.
Lando looks after his son, then back to me, before softly asking. “Did he just call you mom?” I laugh, but sniffle slightly, getting back onto my feet. “Yeah, asked me if I was fine with it before.” Lando comes closer, wrapping his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.
“You can cry if you want to.” He tells me, because he obviously seen the tears and heard me sniffle and I don't hold back those happy tears anymore, letting them wet Lando's shirt while he just holds me.
After a moment, he leans back, hand tilting up my chin to look at me, still the softest smile on his lips. “See, he loves you.” Lando tells me and while listening to Finn's laughter coming from the living room, I know that I am exactly where I want to be.
summary: your biggest dream finally becomes reality, but building a future with Oscar means learning that success is better when there's someone waiting at the end of the day.
contains: established relationship, cooking, humor, fluff, happy ending
pics from pinterest
requests open!
masterlist
oscar_piastri
liked by ynuser, mclarenf1, lando and 492,176 others
oscar_piastri p2 and amazing prize back at home ＠ynuser
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ynuser deserved it osc, you did so well with car today
⤷ oscar_piastri next time I'll help you cook
⤷ ynuser setting our house on fire is a good idea
⤷ oscar_piastri I'm not that bad
⤷ lando you are
⤷ max_verstappen you are
mclarenf1 absolutely fantastic today Oscar!
⤷ oscar_piastri thanks guys, great teamwork
⤷ user1 oscar p2 slayyt
user2 oscar and y/n are so romance book coded
⤷ user3 couple goals
⤷ user4 he bagged a diva
⤷ user5 she bagged a diva too
ynuser
liked by oscar_piastri, alexandra_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 216,071 others
ynuser my biggest dream has now become reality, I'm immensely grateful for the support and all the amazing people that showed up today at the opening 💕
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oscar_piastri my favourite chef in the whole world, super proud of you 🤍
⤷ alexandra_leclerc she uses you too as a test subject?
⤷ oscar_piastri I'm her test dummy but she's cute I can't say no
⤷ ynuser I prefer the term "taste tester" but that's okay too I guess
⤷ user1 poor oscar has probably had more food poisoning episodes than wins
charles_leclerc best of luck with your restaurant!
⤷ ynuser thanks, charles! you know you and alex always have a reserved table
⤷ charles_leclerc hell yeah
⤷ user2 it's not fair I want to try it too 😭😭
user3 I was there and it's honestly really mid, not worth the money at all
⤷ user4 I agree it's just so overrated
⤷ user5 it was fully booked just because her boyfriend is famous
⤷ user6 girl what she literally became famous before oscar even entered f1
f1gossip
liked oscar_piastri, ynuser and 100,436 others
f1gossip oscar piastri was spotted yesterday at his girlfriend y/n l/n's restaurant's opening night, we're officially melting 🫠😭
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user1 THE THIRD PIC HELLO
⤷ user2 just look at how happy they look
⤷ user3 they're so whipped for each other
user4 I heard she'd been working for years to open her restaurant I'm so happy for her
⤷ user5 in an interview she said that this has been her dream since she was a kid
⤷ user6 and oscar was right by her side the whole night
⤷ user7 dude should just marry her asap
ynuser
liked by oscar_piastri, f1_official, charles_leclerc, lando and 382,561 others
ynuser incredibly honoured to have cooked for this year's driver dinner
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f1_official you made meals even for us media admins, we love you please come back soon 🥺
⤷ ynuser aww of course, can't wait to be back at the paddock again
⤷ mclarenf1 she's still ours though
⤷ oscar_piastri *mine
⤷ nicole_piastri osc sharing is caring remember
lando best driver dinner ever
⤷ ynuser 🧡🧡🧡
⤷ charles_leclerc the food was mind blowing y/n
⤷ pierre_gasly kika told me she's super jealous I ate your cooking and she didn't
⤷ ynuser tell my girl she can come eat my cooking whenever she wants 💕
⤷ user1 can I come??
⤷ user2 me too
⤷ user3 me three
ynuser
liked by oscar_piastri, alexandra_leclerc and 215,003 others
ynuser 🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺 (oscar I love you but you suck at photography)
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oscar_piastri hey :(
⤷ ynuser out of all the good moments you took a photo of my trying to take off your hoodie
⤷ alexandra_leclerc 25 and still can't put on a hoodie properly
⤷ lando skill issue
⤷ user1 woah y/n got roasted
⤷ user2 alex ain't wrong tho
nicole_piastri so good to have you two back home with us again!!
⤷ ynuser we missed you all so much too 💕
⤷ user3 she's basically a piastri already
oscar_piastri
liked by ynuser, nicole_piastri, lando, f1_official, mclarenf1 and 683,408 others
oscar_piastri now I have a lifetime to learn how to cook with the best teacher ＠ynuser 🤍
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ynuser forever stuck with each other 💕
⤷ oscar_piastri couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life
⤷ max_verstappen get a room (congrats)
alexandra_leclerc took you long enough
⤷ oscar_piastri your fault for taking ages to tell me her ring size
user1 I KNEW IT
⤷ user2 girl everyone could tell from a mile away that they were going to get engaged soon
Pairings: Dean/Reader, Sam/Jess
Word count: 13,861
Summary: You are a 35 year old plus sized woman who is shy, writes fanfiction, and lives your life with limited tech. Dean is the 27 year old outgoing guy who could model. And you're all he wants.
Marshall
Mama's Boy
Texas
Pride and Prejudice
Movie Nights
Opening Up
Thanksgiving Night
When You Know You Know
Jesus
HEA
Bungee Jumping
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“Gloria is due down, in ten minutes” Dana spoke towards the chief, he looked down at the chair next to where he stood, his step daughter sat there colouring, now yes this wasn’t the best place for a child he knew this but it was a last resort, her school shut due to leaking pipes, you couldn’t pick her up due to back to back meetings, so Robby offered, to go get her knowing that he only had a few hours left of his shift and she would be happy colouring at the nurses desk.
But now there was a new task at hand he couldn’t pass her off as a patient’s child, Gloria had met both you and his step daughter plenty of times and the last thing he needed was her breathing down his neck for something else, he sighed trying to think of a plan on the spot, knowing that sometimes Gloria’s visits were either a couple minutes long or she was there for ages.
“Hey pea?” The child looked up with him “you know how your really good at hide and seek?” She nodded, he quickly looked up to see who was free, seeing Santos and Dennis charting “I need you to go hide with Trinity and Dennis” they both looked up at the mention of their names, confused “Gloria is coming” Dana said, Robby kissed the top of the girl’s head as she jumped down of the chair and ran towards them, grabbing Trinity’s hand as they both lead her away, the elevator opened, Robby opening the drawer and pushing the colours inside.
“I’ve heard your child is in the ED” well shit, even though it did make him extremely happy Gloria referred to her as his child, Robby rubbed the back of his neck “not sure what your on about she’s with her mom” hoping that his R2’s were good at hiding “no kids here, even though I’d think she would brighten the place up if she was” Gloria went silent looking around and peaking into rooms that were open “she better not be here Robby it’s very unprofessional, I know her school is shut I seen it on the news” “and like I said she’s with her mom, hopefully waiting for me to leave in five minutes when my shift ends” Gloria turned on her heels, still eyeing around the place not fully trusting the man she just spoke to, once she disappeared and was fully out of the ED
“I guess I have a child and two staff members to find” he mumbled to Dana, but didn’t have to try hard as his sweet little pea came tumbling out of an open room
“Daddy did I win?” He smiled down “you sure did pea”
It was new, her calling Robby Daddy, he had been in the girl’s life since she was three and she’s now nearly six, her actual dad having nothing to do with her, he stepped into the roll easily
“Robinavitch, get yourself and my niece home” Jack spoke walking through the doors “and next time her school shuts you call me” welcoming the small girl in his arms for a hug before doing a quick hand overs and walking out the door to grab takeout and enjoy a night with his girls
“Can I come to work with you again? That was so much fun” he shook his head at the young girl, walking next to him holding his hand “maybe one day pea”
summary: A normal Saturday gets turned upside down when you have to go to the emergency room. And Robby is doing his best to balance being chief attending and a husband... and pretend like he's not absolutely whipped for his girls.
warnings: brief mention of pregnancy and having kids, descriptions of a hand burn, probably inaccurate medical procedures, kingdon (if you squint), Robby being a papa bear.
notes: okay, the girl!twin!dad! Robby truthers have pulled me into their agenda. Robby just deserves to be happy, okay! also, sorry my jack fic wasn't ready, but I offer this as penance 😌
It's a normal Saturday at PTMC. Same old aches and complaints; same accidents and tragedies. Nothing Robby hasn't seen before.
Maybe that sounds cruel of him. To boil down somebody's worst day to a brief twelve hours of his. Dana is always telling him he's too desensitized to things like this.
Maybe he is.
Robby stretches his shoulders, rubbing a knot at the base of his neck as he makes his way through the waiting room. It's still early, the brief period between the nursing home rush and the late afternoon chaos.
Doesn't mean the room isn't crowded. People crammed into chairs, standing along the walls. The tvs play the news, a boring chart about stock prices or the cost of gas. Robby’s not really paying attention. His eyes dart across each patient, making quick assessment of what he can see.
Make sure nobody was dying. Making sure nobody is on the verge of-
Hold on.
Robby freezes, hand pausing against his shoulder as he turns back to the pair of girls in the chairs across the room. Two familiar looking twelve year olds, both sharing a chair, hips pressed together, brows furrowed in annoyance.
“Will you scoot over-”
“I’m as far as I can go-”
“Nuh uh. You're trying to hog-”
“I am not!”
Robby’s heart practically plummets into his gut as he registers he’s not just looking at a familiar pair of twins. He's looking at his twins.
Those are Robby’s girls- his Maddi and Liz.
Still in their pajamas and sporting messy hair, elbowing each other in the oversized chair they were sharing, a phone playing some disney movie between them.
Robby swallows thickly, moving on autopilot, apologizing as he skirts around an elderly man with a walker. The girls look up before he even gets to their chair, ‘dad’ radars going off. Because somehow they always knew. When his car was pulling into the culdesac, when he was the one picking them up from school.
Liz’ face lights up first, her crooked teeth breaking out into a big smile. She's got on her gray hoodie over pink pj's, converse kicking her sister. Maddi gives her a withering look, noticing Robby a fraction of a second later. She gasps in surprise, waving her thick pink sweater sleeve to garner his attention, teal pajama pants tucked into rain boots .
Not that she had to. Robby would know his girls anywhere.
“Dad!”
They scramble out of the chair, limbs clashing, the phone tossed on the floor as Robby hurriedly crouches down to embrace them.
“Hey,” Robby chuckles, an arm around each girl, hands already feeling for any bumps or bruises. He laughs as he looks both of them in the eye, a hand cradling Liz’s cheek, the other brushing along Maddi’s hairline. “What are you two doing here? It's Saturday. Isn't mom making-”
“Pancakes. But the pot holder was-”
“Mom burnt her hand and so we had to get dragged-”
“Liz was trying to grab the turtle for the car-”
“And she was screaming-”
Robby shakes his head, holding his hands up to try and calm them as they jabber over each other.
“Okay, wait. One at a time-”
It was always like this. Two girls bursting at the seams wanting to be heard first, needing their father to understand.
They ramble on.
“Of course then she had a blow out-”
“We offered to help but mom said no.”
“She didn't want to hurt the baby-” Robby makes a face.
“Woah, what about the baby? Where's your mom?” Liz sighs and Maddi rolls her eyes.
“Dad. Weren't you listening?!”
Robby gives Maddi a look, head tilted with the kind of silent parental authority that said “watch your tone.” Liz reaches out to tug Robby’s sleeve, her head turned around.
“There she is, dad.” She points toward the bathrooms, where in fact, you were. Robby feels himself tense up at the sight, diaper bag slung over your shoulder, six month old baby on your hip… and a tight, pained look on your face.
The cloth wrapped snuggly around your hand might explain that.
Robby stands with a grunt, hands finding the girls’ shoulders automatically, guiding them back to the chair.
“Sit here for another minute will you?”
Liz makes a face.
“Dad we've already been here an hour,” Maddi huffs.
“Just sit there. I’m gonna talk with your mom,” he presses a kiss to Liz’s head before marching off in your direction.
You're struggling to get something into the diaper bag, Hazel fussing against your shoulder, her sounds muffled by the stuffed turtle she was chewing on.
“I know, baby girl. Give me a minute and I’ll find your cheerios. I just need-”
“Hey,” Robby calls out your name softly as he reaches to caress your back, being careful not to startle you. You give him a surprised look, your eyes wide with relief.
“Robby- oh,” your head falls against his shoulder as he pulls you close. Hazel shrieks at the sight of him, socked feet kicking against your hip.
“What are you doing here?” Robby asks, the question rougher sounding than he’d like. Not that you notice. You're too busy feeling relieved as he takes Hazel from your arm, the turtle smushed between her little body as he pulls her close.
“I- Robby it was so stupid. We were making pancakes and the girls were getting water everywhere. The sausage was smoking in the oven- I didn't realize the potholder was soaking wet when I grabbed it- and the-”
“No honey,” Robby shakes his head, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing here?” Robby nods his head towards the crowded waiting room, the twins watching the two of you carefully from their chair, acting patient now.
“Waiting,” you purse your lips, glancing down at your hand. “The lady at the front desk said it wouldn't be too much longer.”
“You should have called me. I could have-”
“Robby,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to cut the line just cause I’m your wife.”
“Why not?” Robby shrugs, Hazel giggling softly at the movement. “I pull the chief attending card all the time.”
“Yeah. For free chips and guac at the mexican restaurant down the street. Not when there are actual lives on the line,” you gesture towards a man being wheeled in, blood dribbling from his forehead. Robby unconsciously shifts Hazel’s face away from the sight, glancing at the twins again. They're back to their movie, pretending like they weren't listening.
They were. They always were.
Robby sighs, looking you up and down. You hated the emergency room. Actively avoided it any way you could. He could count on one hand the number of times you had visited the ED.
When Maddi sprained her finger playing volleyball at school, the time Liv broke her tooth and split her lip riding a friend's skateboard. When Robby had cut his hand open trying to build the girls a playhouse for Christmas one year.
The most recent time had been during your last pregnancy; unable to keep any fluids or liquid down, you’d been sick as a dog.
Hazel whines in Robby’s arms, looking between you and him with a big pout. You sigh, giving her a smile as you carefully maneuver your bag so you can reach inside.
“I know, baby. I know you're hungry. I’m sorry.”
You were here.
Two girls haphazardly dressed, Hazel in an emergency onesie Robby knew she'd just been changed into; the outfit you had been wearing when Robby kissed you goodbye that morning still cozy around your frame.
And the towel wrapped around your hand.
Robby helps you zip the diaper bag, reaching for your injured hand.
“You said you burned it?” You hesitate for a moment, finally letting him take a peek when Robby gives you a look. You concede, the unnatural warmth of your skin radiating from the thick layers of terry cloth.
Balancing Hazel and her cheerios in his arm, scrub sleeve surely soaked with drool, Robby peels away the towel. You inhale sharply as the cool air hits the burn, your skin an angry red, palm peeling and blistering in places. Robby swallows thickly, looking at the painful wound.
You look away from it first.
“It doesn't hurt that bad anymore. I soaked it for twenty minutes before we came here.”
“How long have you been waiting?” Robby asks. You don’t meet his eye.
“Just a little while.”
“You don't have to lie to me. I know this hurts.” You take another shaky breath, your hand flexing against his touch.
“I can't just cut the line Michael. That's not right-”
“You're not cutting anything. Okay? Let me take care of you.” Robby lets go of your hand gently, thumb brushing your cheek as he cups your face.
You melt into it slightly, glancing over at your other girls. They're watching you expectantly, practically buzzing with anticipation of leaving the waiting room. Robby could see you were ready to cave, wanting to get out of there.
He adds a final nail to the coffin, crouching a bit to meet your eye.
“Please.”
Robby can see it. The resignation crossing your face, the pain of your hand catching up to you.
“Okay,” you nod slowly. “But only if l’m not messing with your work-”
“Of course not,” Robby presses a kiss to your temple. “Come on. You ready Hazel?”
The baby blows a raspberry, squealing happily before chewing on a cheerio she manages to grab. You nod towards the girls, gesturing for them to get up. They share an equally happy sentiment as their sister, quickly following you through the staff entrance.
“Finally!” Maddi sighs, pulling her sister up. “Come on.”
You can feel the eyes on Robby as the five of you enter into the Pitt. The Emergency Department’s big bad chief… a smiley baby girl in his arms and two preteens following like baby ducks.
It was cute, you have to admit. Maybe cuter if your hand wasn't throbbing like you’d thrown it into a pile of glass.
Liv holds on to the sleeve of your sweater nervously, looking around at the bustling nurses and loud monitors. Robby glances back at the three of you, making sure you were still alright. You give him a small smile, observing the worry lines already creasing between his brows. The calculations and treatment plans and patient names he was likely filing through. Slotting your name next to an already crowded roster.
You really had tried to hold off going to the emergency room. It hadn't hurt that bad when it happened, surprised you mostly.
But your palm had gotten redder and hotter as the minutes ticked by, your girls looking at you with worry. Robby was always telling you to call him if something happened. Always leaving in the morning with the same goodbye whispered against your cheek.
“Love you. Call me if you or the girls need anything.”
But it just didn't feel right to skip the line. To get in simply because your husband was the chief attending. Although the sentiment was becoming a little stale as your palm throbs deeper.
As you pass by the nurses station, Maddi lights up, quickly finding her favorite person in the ED.
“Hi Mel!”
The blonde resident pauses, turning from her conversation with Langdon, a bright smile blooming when she sees your girls.
“Hey!”
Maddi runs, in spite of Robby’s warning to be careful, tall frame running into Mel’s open arms.
“Is everything alright? I never see you guys here.”
“Peachy,” you raise your injured hand. Frank cringes behind Mel, whistling as you show him the burn.
“Oof. You soak it?”
“Please, she's married to a doctor. Of course she did,” Robby says, chest puffing proudly. Langdon laughs.
Liz clings to your sweater shyly as Frank looks over at her. Then Hazel. His eyes light up like a kid getting candy.
“Ah, Miss Hazel. I see you've graced us with your glorious presence. My favorite Rovinavitch!” Hazel squeals as Frank tickles her foot, curling into Robby’s chest. Maddi lets out a protesting gasp.
“Hey. I thought I was your favorite!”
“Yeah. Before Mel stole you from me.”
“I did not,” Mel frowns, adjusting her glasses with a little smile. “Can't steal what you never had.”
“That’s alright. We all know who my real favorite is,” Frank glances down at Liz, giving her a quick wink. She blushes furiously, turning further into your side.
You laugh, glancing over at Robby. He just shakes his head, cringing as Hazel squeals again, turtle clutched tightly in her flopping hand.
Dana peeks her head out from behind a curtain, squinting over her glasses.
“Is that my happy Hazel I hear?” The charge nurse comes over, giving your older girls a tight squeeze before grinning at your youngest daughter. “Hi beautiful girl.”
Robby can't even protest before Dana is scooping Hazel into her arms, the six month old wiggling around happily. Always the center of attention.
You have a crowd forming, Trinity and Princess inching closer and cooing at the baby, Dennis giving high fives to your older girls.
Robby sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as his staff fawns over his girls.
“Okay, most of you have patients you need to see.”
“Do we?” Princess asks, eyes wide as she makes faces at Hazel. Robby rolls his eyes.
“Yes. Now, go on and scram.”
“Mom,” Liz looks up at you apologetically.
“Yeah baby?”
“I’m really hungry now.” You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding.
“I know. I’m sure.”
The girls had really been troopers. Helping you clean up the mess breakfast turned out to be, waiting patiently to go to the hospital, keeping the complaints to a minimum. They'd grabbed some granola and fruit before you’d left the house, but they were growing girls. You'd seen them out eat Robby a few times already and it was getting closer to lunch time.
You look over at Robby who takes Hazel back from Dana, brow furrowing as he looks you up and down.
“What's going on? You okay?” You nod, your uninjured hand running over Liz’s short hair.
“The girls need food.”
“Sustenance,” Maddi groans. She then gets a look on her face, turning to her sister. The two lock eyes and huddle, shoulders pressed impossibly close as they whisper. You raise your brow suspiciously, Mel laughing behind her hand as she watches from her computer.
Liz nods and stands beside Maddi as they approach Robby. He frowns.
“Uh oh. What’s the council discussing this time?”
“Can we get Starbucks?” He cocks his head.
“Um. Here?”
“Yeah. You can order it on your phone,” Liz adds quietly.
Robby shares a look with you. You shrug.
“I could use a chai.”
"You're encouraging bad habits," he mutters.
"Robby, you know they're not gonna eat the soggy pb and j's they try to pass off as food in the cafeteria," you whisper back.
Robby sighs, looking between your two girls. You can see the torn expression on his face, the fight between saying no because he still wasn’t thrilled about the girls drinking coffee just yet and also saying yes because they’d already been through a wreck of Saturday-
“Please,” Maddi pouts, hands clasped desperately. Her big brown eyes, mirrors to her fathers’, shine beneath the hospital lights. Robby opens his mouth, the words lost as Liz adds another please.
“Please papa.”
Oh. Your girls were good.
You snicker to yourself as you watch Robby become undone in real time. Any pushback he might’ve had lost at the name. The first name the twins had called him.
‘Papa.’
Before they decided they were too cool and the social norm of ‘dad’ was adopted.
Robby sighs, head lowering in defeat. Dana gives your arm a squeeze as she passes by, smiling fondly.
“Okay, fine. But I don't want you two drinking straight sugar for breakfast. You're getting egg sandwiches too.” Maddi makes a face.
“Egg?”
“That's the deal Mads.” She crosses her arms, a familiar looking pout crossing her face.
“Fine.”
“Hey Boss,” Perlah calls out, the red phone pressed to her chest. “We’ve got an GSW coming in five.”
Robby looks up, nodding. “Uh, okay. Give me just a minute.”
“Sure,” Perlah smiles at Hazel who gives her a friendly wave. Robby fishes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Liz.
“Here. You can get one drink and a sandwich. One,” he gives the twins a pointed look. They giggle, nudging each other knowingly. “Mel can take you guys to the breakroom. Stay in there until I come to get you.”
“What about Hazel?” Maddi asks, reaching over for Robby’s phone in spite of the way Liz keeps it clutched tightly to her chest.
“She'll stay with me honey,” you smile. “She's got to eat soon.” Robby checks his watch, looking between you and the baby. You had her on a pretty strict schedule; the girl loved her consistency.
Liz frowns, looking down at your hand with sad eyes. “Mom. Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine, baby. Your dad will fix me up just fine.” You smile again, meeting her eye reassuringly.
But with each passing minute your hand starts hurting even more. You know Robby can see it. The forced line of your smile.
It's the same smile he's shared a hundred times over. The brave face of a parent.
“Cap-” Dana starts, giving Robby a look. “GSW is here in two.”
“Right,” Robby hums, the sound gravelly and tired. He had that look on his face, the one you'd seen plenty of times over. When he was being pulled in multiple directions and didn't know which he should choose. “Okay, uh, Mel-”
“I got the girls, Dr. Robby,” she smiles. He nods, gratefully.
“Feel free to get yourself something too, okay.”
“Oh, that's alright-” Mel shakes her head as Maddi tugs her hand, pulling Mel away towards the break room.
“Mel. Starbucks has boba now!” That gets her attention.
“Really?” Liz nods in agreement, fingers already zooming across the screen.
“Well, they're tapioca pearls. Not really boba. But the same thing…”
You feel the tension in your shoulders release slightly as the girls follow Mel into the break room, and you allow yourself to finally let out the whimper you'd been holding.
“Ow,” you hiss under your breath, cringing as you bring your hand closer to your chest.
Robby turns, his hand moving to rub a soft circle on your back.
“Okay mama, let's get you taken care of.”
“Robby-” Dana’s voice cuts in, the red phone in her hand. “Another ambulance on the way. Three minutes out.”
Robby lets out a frustrated sigh, cursing beneath his breath. “Okay. Okay that's fine. I’ll have Dana look over your hand first and then I’ll be right there.”
“Whatever you have to do,” you nod. “Remember, I’m just like any other patient you’d see-”
“You're not just any other patient,” Robby shakes his head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he passes Hazel over to Dana, her arms already ready for the baby. “You're my wife. And you deserve the best, okay. I’ll be right back.”
Robby gives Hazel a little wave goodbye, a pair of gloves seemingly materializing in his hands, face already set with a determined focus. You watch him head off to a gurney being wheeled in, voice steady and authoritative. Dana stands beside you, bouncing the baby slightly.
“He hit the jackpot with the four of you, you know.”
“Sorry,” Robby looks at you apologetically over his glasses, gloved hands gently prodding your burnt palm. It looks somewhat better after being cleaned and sterilized. Although Dana is a master at making even the most frightening cases look appealing.
“No sorry, it's not you,” you look down at your daughter- or rather what you could see of her beneath your nursing cover. Just the sliver of a onesie covered foot kicking rhythmically. “She's being extra aggressive today.”
Robby smiles to himself, leaning over to grab something off the tray laying between you.
“Told you she's teething.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I can't believe it- ow! Hazel,” you hiss. Robby pauses, watching as you try to peek at the baby with one hand. “Gently honey. Mommy already has enough she's got to try and do with one hand.”
“Are you sure you don't want me to wait till you're finished feeding her?”
“It's okay,” you shake your head and smile. “You guys are busy enough. The Robinavitch’s are multitasking pros. I can manage.” Robby chuckles, shaking his head.
“Come on. Indulge me. I think this is the longest I’ve sat all morning.” You smile, your eyes raking over Robby.
He's sure he looks a mess, after two trauma cases and a patient consult. Hair mussed from running his hand through it, scrubs rumbled and splattered with something he couldn’t quite identify.
It still surprises him how much can change in just thirty minutes. Someone's whole life flashing by, blood on his hands and decisions on his head.
You hum, looking down at Hazel.
“Alright Doctor Robinavitch. Whatever you say.” Robby groans slightly, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh, don't call me that.”
“What,” you laugh. “It’s appropriate, no?” You gesture at the patient room, the walls lined with medical posters, curtains still drawn shut to give you privacy.
“Yeah, well not when it's coming from you. That's how we got this little one,” Robby reaches over and gently shakes Hazel’s small foot. She kicks back and you smile, arm adjusting to hold her closer again.
“Well it’s not my fault you have a thing for role play. And I wouldn't trade her for anything.”
“No. Me neither,” Robby chuckles. She'd been a surprise for sure. Almost more jarring than the first time around when you found out you were having twins. But it was hard to imagine life without her now.
Robby shakes his head and hums, picking up the medicated balm and beginning to smear it gently over your palm.
You sigh, eyes closing as you lean your head back against the chair. Robby smiles, watching you.
“Tired?” You nod.
“Yeah," you say slowly. "More frustrated, I think. I wanted to get some things done around the house today. Get the living room picked up at least.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, gathering a long strip of gauze to wrap around your palm. You peek your eyes open, unenthused.
“Robby, the same basket of laundry has been sitting by the couch for a week.”
“So have the girls put it away.”
“It’s your laundry.” He smiles sheepishly, looking down as he continues to wrap your hand.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” you tease. Robby can see a shift cross your face, and you get more serious. “I am going to need your help though. At least, for a couple days.”
“I know,” Robby scratches the scruff of his beard. “I figured I’ll have to rearrange some things.”
“By some things you mean getting home on time, right?” Robby gives you a look.
“Woah, hey. I’ve been getting home at a decent hour.” You throw him a look.
“Ten at night is not a decent hour, Michael.”
Oof. Michael.
Robby shifts in his seat, setting your now wrapped hand on the table between you. You slide it away, closer to you. Robby narrows his eyes.
“I thought you said you weren’t mad.”
“I’m not mad,” you huff. “I just… it’s hard sometimes. And I get it. I know you’re the boss and the hospital needs you. But we need you too, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean it Michael. Those girls are growing up faster than you’d think. And while yeah, I wouldn’t mind you being home earlier to help around with dishes or watching the baby, I want you around to just be with them.” You smile sadly.
Robby knows he’s been busy. The long hours he’s been putting in, the overtime. The late nights where he’d get home and crash on the couch with barely a hello and goodnight to the girls. Dana always chided him for staying so late. Even when she was doing the same thing-
“You’re turning her into a single mother, Robby.”
“She’s okay. She hasn’t said it’s bothering her.”
“Of course it’s bothering her. Your wife is just a saint and won’t say anything because she hates seeing you worry.”
Robby looks at you now in the patient room, carefully pulling the nursing cover away now that you had both hands back, oddly adjusting your daughter as you check her.
“I think she’s finally asleep,” you murmur. Robby watches you carefully. Not assessing. Not diagnosing. Just watching.
It hits him then, watching you juggle his daughter and your injured hand and your other girls in the break room… just how much you truly kept everything held together.
The glue of the little Robinavitch clan.
And Robby had been playing the part of chief attending much more than he’d been playing father and husband. Leaving you to gather the pieces and try to make something good out of it. Robby scoots his chair closer to you, cupping your cheek as you look at him in surprise.
“I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the sudden movement.
“For what?”
“For not being here like I should. For having you worry about whether you’re bothering me at work when you’re hurting.”
“Robby-” He cuts short whatever you were going to say with a soft kiss, lips pressed gently against yours. You melt slightly into it, cheek pressed against his as he moves to press another against the corner of your mouth. Then the corner of your nose. And-
There’s a knock at the door. You hum, giving Robby a smile.
“I think that’s for you.”
“They can wait.”
“Robby…” you give him a look. He pulls back, thumb brushing against your cheek. “Go. It’s okay.”
Robby sighs, grunting as he pushes off from the chair. He pushes the curtain aside, taking in Whitaker standing nervously at the door.
“Yeah?” Robby asks, brows drawn low with curiosity. “What’s happening?”
“Uh, I was told I had to give this to you,” Whitaker holds out a perspirating plastic cup and a paper bag with something sweet smelling. “I believe the instruction was ‘make sure mom eats. So she feels better faster.’”
Robby laughs, taking the drink and bag, the smell of banana bread wafting towards his face. He also takes the phone Whitaker holds out, the dark phone case splattered with something that smells like whipped cream.
“Thanks for relaying the message huckleberry.”
“Oh sure. Your girls are quite the pair.” Robby smiles.
“They are.”
Whitaker stands awkwardly for a moment more before adding- “Also Dana said we’re in shambles without you.”
"Yeah, okay. Hang in there for a couple more minutes. I'll be back soon."
“Aye aye captain,” Whitaker gives a two finger salute. “Just don’t be too long. Dana might start threatening to recruit your girls.”
The two laugh and Robby closes the glass door gently, balancing the goodies in his hand. Your eyes are wide with appreciation as Robby holds up your food.
“It was for you.”
“Oh thank the Lord,” you grin.
Robby laughs, helping you take off the nursing cover, Hazel gently passed into his arms. You pick at the banana loaf, pushing a generous chunk over to Robby as he sits down again.
“Here.”
“No, I’m okay,” Robby shakes his head as he settles his sleeping girl on his chest. You give him a look.
“Robby…”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“I know you haven't eaten all morning.”
Robby huffs and takes a piece with a mumbled thank you. You give him a bright smile, letting out a pleased hum as you eat. Robby sits, enjoying what he knows is the last bit of quiet before he's thrown back into the throes of the ED.
You're packing up the diaper bag, the twins helping you tuck in extra bandage wraps and medicated ointment into the side pockets. Maddi happily slurps on a caramel lined coffee cup, Liz sipping at something tall and green. Robby watches them fondly as they hover over you, Hazel still sleeping in his arms.
"Mom, I got that."
"Here, I can hold the bag!"
"No I can-"
"Girls," you chuckle. "It's fine. One of you can hold the bag and the other can hold my drink."
Robby's phone pings and he fishes it out of his pocket, frowning as he reads the notification. You don't notice as you take the baby from him, holding her closely.
"You girl's ready to go?"
They nod enthusiastically, giggling softly beneath their breaths. Robby's frown deepens as he looks at them over his glasses.
“Hey… why does it say my card was charged a hundred and thirty dollars?”
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x mom!reader x toddler!daughter
Warning: fluff, domestic sweetness
Summary: Jack returns home to find his sleepy babygirl clinging to a very special teddy.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
The morning sun was just starting to peek through the blinds. Jack quietly unlocked the front door, his entire body was aching and all he wanted was to crash.
But as he hung up his jacket, your soft voice pulled him toward your babygirl's bedroom.
No matter how exhausted he was, seeing his girls was the only cure for a rough shift.
You were already by the crib, a mug of coffee warm between your hands. You looked up as he slipped into the room, your eyes softening at the dark circles under his.
"Hey, handsome," you whispered, setting your mug down on the side table. "Survived the night?"
"Barely," Jack murmured back. He walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Missed you, beautiful."
"Missed you too, Doctor." You tilted your head, kissing his cheek. "Say hi. She’s just waking up."
Jack smiled, pulling away to step over to the crib. Inside, your daughter was starting to stir. She blinked sleepily, her eyes rubbing against her fists until they landed right on Jack. Instantly, a tiny smile broke behind her pacifier.
"Daddy!" she screamed with a sleepy voice.
She immediately poked her hands up into the air, making her uppie arms.
Jack’s heart completely melted. He leaned over the railing, scooping her warm body up against his chest.
"Hi my beautiful girl," Jack whispered as he pressed a long kiss into her hair.
She let out a giggle, her hands immediately coming up to cup his face. Her fingers patted his cheeks, testing the rough morning stubble on his jaw. "S'atchy," she mumbled, but she didn't pull away. She leaned her forehead against his nose, rubbing it side to side in a sleepy greeting.
"Yeah, Daddy needs a shave, doesn't he?" Jack cooed, rocking her gently from side to side as she buried her face into his neck.
As he hoisted her a little higher, Jack noticed something else in the crib. A familiar fluffy brown teddy bear dressed in a miniature set of blue hospital scrubs with a very cute little stethoscope.
"Since when does she sleep with plushies?" Jack asked softly, turning to you with an arched eyebrow. "She usually kicks everything out the second she lays down."
You let out a soft laugh and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his shoulder. Hearing your voice, your daughter reached one hand to pat your face, ensuring both of her favorite people were within arm's reach.
"She only sleeps with that one," you explained. "And only on specific nights. When you're on a night shift and you can't put her to bed, she gets incredibly restless. She sits by the door waiting for you."
Jack’s chest tightened. The guilt of the long hours at the hospital was a constant weight.
"So, I started giving her the bear on those nights," you continued, reaching out to smooth a stray curl away from your daughter's forehead. "I told her that whenever Daddy is at the hospital helping people, this guy is on duty to keep her safe until you get home. Now, she won't go to sleep without him when you're gone. I think it's her way of keeping you close until you come back."
Jack looked down at the scrubwearing bear on the mattress. He reached down with his free hand and picked up the plushie, holding it up so his daughter could see it.
"Who's this, sweet girl?" Jack asked her gently, shaking the bear's little paw. "Is this your helper?"
The toddler blinked sleepily at the bear, then looked right at Jack, her little thumb poking the bear as she nodded. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and pointed a tiny finger at the plushie.
"He's night dada," she mumbled softly, her voice muffled around her paci.
Jack froze. New emotions emerged at the realization that she considered the little bear her version of him when the sun went down.
"Night Dada, huh?" Jack pressed the plush bear gently into her arms, and she instantly hugged it tight against her chest, right alongside his own neck. "He takes good care of you when Daddy's at work?"
The toddler nodded and whispered. "Dad doctor."
He wrapped his free arm securely around you, needing the comfort of his family.
"Thank you," he whispered to you, leaning down to kiss your lips. "For being here for her when I can't."
A bunch of you have been so patient for Alpine fiction. 🥰 Y'all are so sweet to me. Thank you so much! Just a lil something.
"G'morning Mama & Papa!" Bucky cradles the cat with a firmer grip as Abby enters the room. Abby screams and skips over to you both. You grab her before she's able to get to Alpine. Alpine is hissing and struggling against Bucky. "Mama, I wants the cats."
"Hold on. You scared her by screaming, you can't do that, baby."
Abby watches Bucky snuggle the kitten to his chest, quietly cooing to her, trying to calm her down. A little frown appears on Abby's face. "Why him so scaredy cat?"
"Baby, she's so little and all by herself. Wouldn't you be scared?" Abby scrunched her nose at your logic.
After getting Alpine to calm down Bucky introduces Alpine to Abby. "Abby baby, I'd like you to meet Alpine. Would you like to pet her?"
Abby goes over & tries to take Alpine out of Bucky's hands, "I takes her." That upset Alpine & she hisses.
"No, no. Just pets Abby." You pet Alpine's back to show her how gentle she needs to be.
"But I wants to hold her."
"Maybe when she gets used to you. But for now, she'd love a little back scratch." Abby frowns but really wants to touch the kitten & she pets her gently. "Hers so soft," giggling up at you.
"I know, right?"
"You're doing so well, sweetheart." Abby turns to look at Bucky, only to realize he wasn't talking to her, but to Alpine.
"Hers not sweetheart!" You and Bucky quickly looked at each other hearing jealousy in Abby's voice.
"Uh...I was letting her know that she was good for letting you pet her without hissing."
"Hers just cat. Not sweetheart."
"Ok, Abby. She's just a cat." You both try to hold in your laughter. You didn't want Abby's feeling hurt. You never had to deal with a jealous Abby. She always had all your attention. She didn't have to share your or Bucky's affection before.
Still loving the feeling of Alpine's soft fur, Abby's chubby fingers continue to pet the little cat but the frown doesn't leave her face. Alpine beings to meow pitifully looking up at Bucky. "Seeee. Hers not nice. Hers make so much noise too!"
"She's probably not used to so much attention." Bucky leans down to put Alpine on the floor and she quickly slips under the couch. "Hey, how about we get dressed, have breakfast and I'll show you my hut by the lake. Where I used to live. How does that sound? Maybe we can camp there tonight, huh?"
Abby gets all excited, throwing her fists in the air, "Yay! Camping!"
You swat her on the bottom, "Ok, let's get ready."
"Yay, Mama! And you know what's?"
"What, baby?"
"The junk cats can't come with us. Hers not invited." She smiles and pulls you back to her room with her.
I couldn't wait to post this. Abby watching Wicked: For Good. I was going to wait couple weeks but I failed. I so 'cited!! 😂 So there's spoilers. Not detailed, but you know how Abby talks through movies. 🙄 If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. 🥰😘
Abby Rose has been waiting all year for Wicked: For Good's release. With the first movie she was dolled up in pink from head to toe. This time, she's in black. She wore her black trench coat from her Nick Fury Halloween costume & you got her a witches hat. She's been strutting around the house practicing her "swish" with the coat tails. She wanted Natasha to paint her green but you put your foot down. That was a "no". You were in no mood to clean that off her. You did buy green nail polish and gold stickers so you could do your nails together. That's it!
You heard that the movie was a little darker, but it wasn't graphic or anything. You thought Abby would be safe. AND she couldn't stop talking about it. Once again, the promo posters were all over the city, exciting Abby more & more. You rewatched the first movie for a refresher & Bucky took you both to the matinee. Abby sits between you, chomping on popcorn. Her little legs kicking with excitement.
Once the movie started, Abby was standing up, leaning against you, whispering her commentary in your ear. You really need to break this habit of hers but she was having too much fun. You didn't want to ruin things for her. She was very opinionated about Nessa and Boq. "Hers very bads," pounding her fist in her palm. "She mean girl. She traps him. She no can own him. Hers not posta touch Elphie's book. Elphie say 'no'. Den hers blame Elphie?! Yook at him! Him's like a junka-lunka Iron Man now!"
Even though she's a diehard Elphaba fan, you'd hear her gasp when Glinda came on screen with a new gown. Each one is more stunning than the next. "Mama, yook." Your little girlie-girl couldn't help herself. "She so 'squzit."
You smile at her, "She is exquisite."
When Prince Fiyero made his debut in the movie, she squashed your face between her popcorn buttered palms & squealed, "It's da cuuutes man!" You and Abby joined the women around you applauding Jonathan Bailey. This earned you a dirty side-eye from Bucky.
She loved seeing Elphaba and all the magic she now possessed., but she started getting very upset on her behalf. "Dey say very bad lies about Elphie! I don't wike it." Shrugging with her hands spread, "Why Gwinda no say sumtin? Huh? Why? She knows dey lies. She very bads, too!"
You try to sit her back down in her seat but 2 minutes later she popped back up to lean into your space so she can whisper to you. "Why him mawwy Gwinda? He no ask her. You can't just tell someone you mawwy dem. You need to ASK, wight Mama? She can't just say 'yous my husband'." Abby looks so offended. (Your little boyfriend talk stayed with her.) Another bad mark against Glinda.
What she did like was the animals escaping during the wedding. "Go. Go. Go. Mama, Elphie fweed dem!" She stands with her fists in the air cheering for the animals. "I don't wike goats but I wuv Teacher Goat so much!"
You had a commentary throughout the entire movie with Abby. "The Pwince save Elphie!" Gasping "Oh my goshness! Dey kissing!" She was glued to the screen and the Fiyero got captured. Dramatically throwing her hands out towards the screen she screams, "Fiyerooo!" Bucky grabs her with his quick reflexes as she hurls herself out of the chair. She starts crying into his shoulder, "Helps him, Papa."
"Abby Baby, it's just a movie."
She looks over her shoulder as Elphaba sings out "Fiyerooo" while Fiyero is beaten by the Wizard's guards. Abby screams again burying her face in Bucky's neck. Thankfully the crowd around you were a vocal bunch and they commiserated with Abby. Some chuckled at how reactive Abby is.
Abby has always been very moved by Cynthia Erivo's voice. She hears her in her heart and is very emotional about it. The duet For Good has Abby crying in your arms. Both of you are in tears. When Dorothy melts the Wicked Witch with water, Abby lets out a gutteral moan & cries so hard she can't catch her breath. "Easy Baby, it's ok."
"Nooooo." Hiccuping between sobs, "Elphie go to heaven."
'Shhhh honey, it's just tricks. Elphie is too smart for them. She tricks them all. Elphie is ok, I promise."
"Hers ok?" Abby wipes away the tears with the back of her hands. "Hers being tricks-y??" You nod and she flops back against you as you wrap your arms around her.
Abby watches the rest of the movie. Watching Glinda come into her own. How she gathers her strength and gets back at the wizard and Madame Morrible. "I fink I wike her a lil bit now. Even if her so late to being good."
When the Scarecrow approaches the trap door, Abby sits up straight, "Who's him?"
"Shhh listen."
"Fiyero, Mama?? What happens!?"
"The guards were hurting him, so Elphie cast a spell so he wouldn't feel pain. 🎶Eleka nahmen nahmen🎶, remember? Nothing can hurt him, but now he's a scarecrow. He has no bones to break. He's safe."
Gasping, "Oh no! Fiyero."
When the lights came up in the theater and the applause died down, Bucky turns to Abby, "So, how did you like it?"
Jumping in her chair, "It so goods! I wuv it so much!"
"Yea? Your handsome Prince didn't look too handsome there."
"Don't say dat! Him's bulaful!"
"You think so?"
Pressing her hand against her heart, "In here's. He wuv Elphie and save her. Dey see wit dems heart, not dere eyeballs."
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Omg the wedding reception… Abby dancing with everyone. Even Sam maybe? Or cass and AJ? Would the gum drops be invited? Mama and papas first dance? Abby telling them to shake it like this…The possibility’s for after the ceremony are amazing in my head!! Thank you so much for sharing this little family. I love them so much!!
Hi darlin'! You're very welcome! I'm always so blown away by the enjoyment you get from the Abbyverse. 🥰 Thank you for following along. Thank you for giving me such good prompts to keep this story moving. 😘 Hope you like this! 😉
Upon returning to the lakeside reception after signing all your paperwork, Abby made a beeline to the cake which you had to chase after & stop her. You had explained that she had to wait until after dinner tonight and that damn near broke her heart. You let her stick her finger in the frosting in the back of the cake so she didn't have a meltdown.
You and Bucky took Abby over to the Gumdrops & their parents. They were also staying in the manor in a 2 bedroom suite, because they offered to take Abby for the night. Air mattresses in the living space so the girls could enjoy a slumber party. Abby shared her good news with them as well, "My Papa 'dop me today! I'm Abigail Rose Barnes now!" Everyone is so thrilled for this new official family. The little girls ooh'd and ahhh'd over their new dresses or shoes or hair bows or bags. They felt very grown-up being at a wedding. Abby snuck the girls to the back of the cake so each of her friends could taste the frosting at the bottom. It was just supposed to be a little taste.
When you and Bucky went to cut your wedding cake, you saw the hole in the back. Not a little dip on the frosting like earlier, but a hole. You search out Abigail in the crowd and all 3 Gumdrops wouldn't make eye-contact with you. All you had to do was yell out "Abigail Barnes!" All 3 girls ended up in cackles and squeals. Bucky had a huge smile on his face hearing you yell out her new name in front of everyone. The girls skipped up to the table and apologized. "I's sowwy." "It was so yums!" "I want more pwease." The audacity of these kids! It was in the back, so wedding photos weren't ruined but good grief! These little mice!
******
Little Abby with her big feelings, watching you and Bucky take your first dance, tears sliding down cheeks. Soon, tears were sliding down the other gumdrops' cheeks. If one cries, they all cry. It was happy tears. You looked so beautiful and glowing with happiness. Secure in Bucky's arms as you both glide across the dance floor. You looked like every fairy princess Abby had ever imagined and Bucky truly looked the part of the handsome prince. It was like a dream come true.
Uncle Steve and Grace find the teary eyed girls huddled together. Steve goes to Abby, while Grace checks on the other two. "Abs, what's the matter?"
Abby holds her arms out to Steve, for him to pick her up. "Mama and Papa are so...THE BEST! Yook at dem. They like... magic. I wuv it so much."
With a soft chuckle, 'It is pretty magical." Abby nods as Steve starts to sway to the music, "Abs, may I have this dance?"
Abby squeezes his face, "I'd wuv to!" Steve spins them around and Abby cackles while throwing her head back.
After the first dance is finished, Abby and her friends run into the dance floor to dance with you and Bucky, because they wanted to dance with the prince and princess. Your guests join you on the dance floor under the stars & fairy lights that over took the back lawn. Bucky made the girls scream with laughter with his over enthusiastic dance moves & singing.
Oooh I love it when you do it like that
And when you're close up, give me the shivers.
Oh baby, you wonna dance 'til the sunlight cracks
And when the party's over, then we'll bring it right back.
For once your daughter didn't critique your dance moves. You don't know who the belle of the ball was, you or her. She danced with everyone. Even Samuel. Sam started a crazy dance battle with the Gumdrops and his nephews that left everyone in stitches!
You couldn't have been happier. Bucky made all your dreams come true. You were surrounded by a family you and Abby curated. All this love you felt from everyone was something you thought you and Abby would never experience. And now you will have these people, forever and ever.
I am curious what does Abby’s v-day look like? Does she get something with mama and Bucky before their date? Does she get a date out of Steve? Is Nat her date because mama and Bucky and Steve are having a double date with ms. Grace?
Happy Be-lated Valentine's, Anon! 😍 Abby, enjoyed her Galentine's Day with her daycare besties, Chloe & Mia. Her Valentine's was a little rough. 😟 She asked Bucky to be her Valentine, but he already made plans for a romantic evening with you.😬
You picked Abby up from daycare, Abby is chattering nonstop, telling you all about her Galentine's breakfast and the crafts she did. "I mades you a Balentine card, but I cants gives you until tomorrow. Ms. Grace let's me make two," holding up 2 fingers. "I mades Papa Bear one."
"Did you? He's going to be so surprised."
"Really, Mama? You tink he be 'prised?" Abby grabs your hand and starts skipping. As you turn the corner, you see Bucky walking up the stairs. "Papa! Papa!" She waves crazily to catch his attention. She looks up at you for permission. You give her a smile and let go of her hand. She runs towards Bucky & you see a smile on Bucky's lips.
He picks her up and tossed her in the air. It always makes you catch your breath because he tosses her a little higher than normal people. You know she's in no danger, but to see your baby so high...yeesh. Abigail loves it! She asks for another one as soon as he catches her. She's all squeals and giggles.
"Hey, Doll." Bucky kisses you before guiding you inside. He's such a sweet man, and so handsome. You really got lucky with him. You love him so much.
********
While you're in the shower, Abby's with Bucky playing Legos. "You knows what?"
Bucky smiles before putting down his Legos and turning to Abby. "No, Abigail. What's on your mind?"
Abby crawls closer to Bucky & nervously plays with his hand. "Will you be my Balentine?"
Surprised, "Oh...Abby." All the plans he had for you and him and your Valentine together flash through his mind. Bucky takes a little too long to answer. Abby pulls her hand back & stands up but not before Bucky sees the hurt in her eyes. "Abby..."
"Um...I's just kidding."
"Abby, baby," reaching for Abby, but she hops out of his reach.
"I's trick you. Ha-ha. It just tricks," her voice getting softer. "I think Pu'a is calling me. I gots to go."
She runs to her room, passing you in the hallway. You're towel drying you hair, "Ready for your stories?' Abby slams her door. The next second, Bucky crashes into you. "Ow!"
Seeing Abby's closed door, Bucky curses under his breath, "Shit."
"What happened?"
"I messed up. She asked me to be her Valentine, and she took me by surprise. I didn't answer her immediately, and hurt her feelings. I was thinking how to juggle the plans I made with you, to fit Abby in." You cringe. "I'm sorry, Doll."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. These things are going to happen."
Bucky knocks on Abby's door, "Abby Baby? Can I come in?"
You hear her muffled voice through the door, "I's sowwy, Abby not at home. You got the wrong number. Come back later." You giggle as Bucky leans his head against the door.
"It's ok. I got this."
******
Nothing helps heal a heartache like ice cream. You return with a bowl and softly tap on the door. "Abby? Can I come in?" The door opens a crack, and your baby is looking up at you with little tears stuck to her thick lashes and Pu'a her pig, clutched in her arms. "Aw, baby."
You close the door, picking your daughter up and take her to bed. You hand her, her ice cream. "It got sprinkles? I needs sprinkles." She smiles at her bowl when she sees the rainbow of colors. "Tank yous."
"Want to tell me what happened with Bucky?"
"I ask him to be my Balentine but he...he no want to," little tears track down her cheek.
"Did he say no? That he didn't want to?"
She stops and thinks, "He didn't say yes."
You give a small laugh, "Ok. That's fair. Remember when I told you Natasha was going to be here on Friday to babysit you?"
"Ooh yes! N'asha and I having a dance pawty."
"Tomorrow is Friday. She's coming over so Bucky and I can go out for our Valentine's date."
"You his Balentine already??"
"See, so it's not that Bucky didn't want to be your Valentine. He was already thinking how to change his plans with me, to fit you in. Bucky loves you very much."
"I so 'barresed!" Abby falls dramatically back on the bed, and you scooping up her ice cream bowl before it spills. "I thought him no wants to be my Balentine, but he already yours."
"He'll always be ours. He's my boyfriend and your Papa Bear."
Sitting up shocked, "But Mama, you can't has more than one Balentine!"
Laughing at her outrage, "Am I not your Valentine, too? Did you not just tell me on our walk home that you made me a Valentine card at school?"
Hugging her back, "I'm glad baby. And you know, Bucky feels very sad that he hurt your feelings. He's sorry."
"I dids! For you and Papa, two."
"See, it ok to have 2 Valentine's. And I bet if you had more time, you'd make a whole bunch more for Uncle Steve, Natasha, Sam..."
"And Diwector Fuwy!"
"Exactly! All the people you love in your life."
Giving you a hug, "Tank you Mama. I feels better in my heart."
Abby pulls away and covers her face, "I's so 'shamed."
"There nothing to be ashamed about. It was a misunderstanding. We fixed it easily, right?" Abby nods. "Maybe you can go tell Bucky you understand and you're not sad anymore."
Running to find Bucky, "I tells him, now!"
*******
Bucky left work early to decorate your apartment before you got home with Abby. You each got flowers and candies. Abby's on a smaller scale, but he also got her a Stitch stuffie. She's been talking so much about the new Lilo & Stitch movie, Bucky just had to get it.
Bucky was taking you to dinner and a Broadway show but switched it to a late dinner after the show so he could spend some time with Abby first. He still felt bad that her feelings were hurt.
Hearing the jingle of keys and Abby's chit-chat through the door, Bucky leans against the kitchen counter waiting to see the looks on his girls' faces.
You didn't disappoint. No one ever has taken so much effort to making Valentine's Day so special. Your surprised look made Bucky smile. Abby is squealing and giggling and dancing around with her new toy. "Papa, this...this is like, The Best! Tank you!"
Bucky walks over, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a kiss which held promises of so much more.
I loved the valentines Abby story!!! More than one Balentine is mind blowing at that age.
But I have to ask how did her going to talk to Bucky go? You just know he was heart broken. And that lost puppy look on the couch. Did Abby make it all better?
I envisioned the cheeky squishing to make sure Bucky is listening. Just to cute!!
Thank you for such a sweet ask. We were all worried about Abby's feelings. 🥺
Running his fingers through his hair as he paces the living room, Bucky is waiting for confirmation of his changed dinner reservations. He's moving dinner to after the Broadway show he plans on taking you to, so you both can spend some time with Abigail before your Valentine's date. "I appreciate your help. Thanks so much!"
Bucky disconnects and sits on the couch. He feels so bad for hurting Abby's feelings. It wasn't his intention at all, but he never thought she'd ask him to be her Valentine. She was so cute, too.
Hearing Abby thundering down the hallway, "Papa! I no sads!" He hears her excited voice as he sits up. Abby crashes into his leg as she reaches up to squish his face between her palms. Smiling up at Bucky, "Look, I no sads!" Climbing into his lap, "Mama. 'splains all the things to me. I thought you no wants to Balentine with me. And I soooo 'barressed!" Throwing her head back in true Abby dramatics. "But it ok to has more than one Balentine. I had you and Mama. You has me and Mama. It ok." She tries to reassure him, like he wouldn't know this already. Trying to drop some knowledge on this poor 108 year old man. Thanks, Abby Rose.
hiiii i hope you are doing well. i was thinking abt maybe reader is away on mission or something so bucky takes care of abby and he’s trying to do her hair/pick a cute outfit and he thinks he’s done amazing, (abby does too) but steve sends reader a picture of bucky and abby and it is the most atrocious hair style and outfit but they both have the biggest smile and reader is happy 🧹
My favorite anon! Thank you, I'm hanging in there.🙂 I switched this a lil bit to make it a collaborative effort between Mama's favorite people.
"Papa, is you wakes?" Bucky was awake as soon as Abby stepped into the room, but he pretended to be asleep because Abby is so entertaining when she tries to wake him up. "Pu'a and I done sleeps." She waits a few seconds, "I tinks my pig is hungwy," squashing Pu'a belly against Bucky's ear. "You hears it? His tummy is gwowing."
"I heard it," pulling away from her stuffed animal.
"You's up, Papa!'
"How can I stay asleep when Pu'a's belly is rumbling so loud?"
Abby gives him a smile, "Mine tummy maybe gwowing too."
Bucky quickly sits up lifting Abby's belly to his ear, making her giggle. Her giggle has become one of his favorite sounds. "Is it?" rubbing his head into her belly, tickling her. She wiggles and curls up, kneeing Bucky in the face. Bucky groans falling back on the bed.
"Papa!! I's sowwy!" Abby crawls over to check his face. "I ouch you? I's sowwy! I takes care you. It ok, ok?"
"I'm ok. I'm fine."
Looking relieved, "You'd fine?"
"I'm an Avenger. I'm fine."
Then Abby frowns, "Yous make my heart so scared. Don't ticko me! I don't wikes it."
Bucky rubs his cheek, "I'm sorry. I learned my lesson. I won't tickle you."
Abby nods and gives him a beautiful smile, which reminds Bucky of yours. "But you knows what?"
"No, tell me."
"My tummy is still gwowing."
*****
You're in Washington DC with Director Fury to attend conferences and committee meetings with him. You're only supposed to be gone 3 days and Bucky said he'll bring Abby to the Tower, knowing if he needs help the team would jump in.
Brushing teeth and washing Abby's face was easy enough. Brushing her tousled bed head was another story, but once it combed out, "Ok, are we good?"
"No, Papa. I need pigtails. One over here & one here," patting the sides of her head.
Bucky gets to work, "Ta-da! How does that look?"
Papa tried his best but the pigtails were lopsided and uneven. He didn't make sure the part was straight and there were so many fly away hairs, and Abby didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Uh ..um...I so pwetty! Yay, Papa?"
"Cool, let's find something to wear." As Bucky leaves, Abby takes another look in the mirror & shakes her head. Mama never lets her leave looking like this. She gives a little giggle thinking about Bucky.
Abby waddles into the bedroom to find Bucky going through her packed clothes. "Is you finds my scoon cwothes?"
"Yea, sure. What do you want to wear?"
"You's let me picks it?"
Bucky shrugs, "Why not?
Abby jumps up and down, "Okies!" Mama never lets her do this. She looks through her selection and picks out a flowered top and some cheetah leggings. "Dis! I wike dis! It my favwit! I'll feel pwetty."
Bucky tries to be supportive, "Wow! Um ...good choice. You're always pretty, Abigail Baby. He dresses her & boy is she a sight. Both of them look at each other with so much love. Trying to support the disaster each of them created.
*****
Steve just started making coffee when Abby skips into the kitchen, "G'morning Uncle Steve!" She runs the rest of the way to hug his leg.
"whoa! What...did you? You did that to yourself, Abs?
Giving Steve a twirl, "You wikes it? Papa did my hairs, but I picked-ed my cwothes."
Steve looks at Bucky and he's got a huge smile on his face. Taunting him, "Yea, Uncle Steve. Don't you wikes it?"
Steve kneels down to Abby's level, "You know who would also like this?"
"Who?"
Steve looks up at Bucky while he answers Abby, "Your Mama! I think we should sent her a picture." The smile slowly slides off Bucky's face.
"Maybe we shouldn't..."
"YES! Mama wants to sees me!" Abby strikes a pose, "Take my piture!" Steve cracks up laughing but does as he's told. Abby runs to Bucky, "Now one wit Papa!"
"C'mon, smile Buck."
"Is you smiles? You happy to be's wit me?" Abby looks hopefully up at Bucky.
"Of course Abby Baby!" He pulls her closer and they both giggle and give the biggest smiles.
"Yay! Send to Mama.
"Sent."
"Uncle Steve? Can you make me pancakes? My tummy is gwowing! I hungwy."
served with: lando norris x fem!teacher!reader
chef's note: when Lando rescues a massive, sticker-covered envelope from the “bulk fan mail” pile at the MTC, he doesn't expect it to change his life. But a letter from a boy named Leo—who just wants someone to make his class look "less lame" on Career Day—is the one thing a WDC can't ignore. He doesn't realize that the teacher, Ms. Y/N, has no idea she’s emailing a celebrity. She just thinks he’s a well-meaning local delivery driver who needs a stern reminder to bring his "patience hat."
portion size: 7.1k
note: hello besties! I love this idea that @fraaaaankiiiiieee gave me, I hope this is what you expect. This idea gave me a lot of inspiration and surprisingly I was able to write this in less than 24 hours! Have a good day!!! 🤍✨
The McLaren Technology Centre was usually a place of clinical precision—white floors, hushed tones, and the smell of high-end engineering. But today, Lando was marching through the marketing wing with a look of pure indignation.
He’d stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it: a massive, overstuffed padded envelope sitting on a PR staffer's desk. It was addressed to Lando Norris in bright, messy marker, decorated with stickers of race cars and sunshine.
"Why is this here?" Lando asked, leaning over the desk.
The staffer, distracted by a spreadsheet, didn't look up. "Oh, that? Just more fan mail, Lando. We’ll process it for the archives. Don't worry yourself with the bulk stuff; we only bring you the high-priority sponsorships or official requests."
Lando’s brow furrowed. "Don't worry myself? These are people, Sarah. My fans aren't 'bulk stuff.'"
"Lando, there are hundreds of letters—"
"And someone spent their time and money to send this massive thing directly to me," he countered, his voice rising just enough to turn heads. Before she could protest, he snatched the package off the desk like it was a first-place trophy. "From now on, every single letter, drawing, or messy envelope comes to me. I’m the one they’re writing to, not the 'archives.'"
Back in his apartment, the silence of the evening felt a bit heavy until he dumped the contents of the envelope onto his coffee table. A literal mountain of notebook paper, construction paper, and glitter spilled out.
Right on top was a neatly typed letter on school letterhead: Sunshine Elementary – Miami, FL.
Dear Mr. Norris,
My name is Y/N, and I am a 3rd-grade teacher in Miami. My class has been working hard on their formal writing and persuasive communication skills this term, and when we discussed the idea of pen pals, they were adamant that they wanted to write to "the fastest man in the world."
I should confess: I’ve introduced them to Formula 1 as a way to make math more engaging. We use your season points for our morning warm-up word problems (you’ve helped them master subtraction!), and we watch the race highlights every Monday morning to get us energized for the week.
When you won the World Championship, I think the entire wing of the school heard us. The principal actually had to come by to make sure everyone was okay because the cheering was so loud. You’re a hero in Classroom 3B. I hope these letters find you well.
Best, Ms. Y/N
Lando leaned back, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He could picture it—a room full of eight-year-olds doing "Norris Math" and screaming at a whiteboard. It felt more real than any trophy he’d ever held.
He started digging through the kids' letters. They were hilarious and heart-wrenching in equal measure.
“Do you eat pizza before you drive? My mom says I can’t because I’ll get a tummy ache.” “Why is your car orange? Orange is the color of carrots and I hate carrots but I like your car.”
Then, he reached a piece of yellow legal paper written in careful, shaky print.
Dear Mr. Lando,
My name is Leo and I am in the 3rd grade. I live with my Grandma and Grandpa because my mom is in heaven. They are retired, which means they are very tired and old. Career Day is coming up at school and every kid brings an adult to talk about their job. I don't have anyone to bring because Grandpa can’t stand up for long. Can you please come to my school? If you come, you would make all the other classes look super lame. My friend Toby’s dad is a dentist but that is boring. You drive the orange car and go VROOM and you win! No one else has a job as cool as yours.
I drew a picture of your car on the back of this paper. Please come? I will share my fruit snacks with you.
Your friend, Leo.
Lando felt a lump form in his throat. He looked at the calendar on his phone. Career Day fell right during the spring break in the F1 calendar. He was supposed to be golfing in Dubai.
He put the golf clubs out of his mind instantly.
Lando scrambled to the school’s website, his fingers flying across his phone screen as he navigated the staff directory. There she was. Ms. Y/N — Grade 3. He clicked her email icon, a determined spark in his eyes. He didn't want to alert his management yet—they'd try to turn it into a high-production PR "activation" with cameras, scripts, and a fleet of security. He wanted this to be real. He wanted it to be for Leo.
He opened his secondary email app—the one he used for Twitch, Discord, and ordering obscure sim-racing parts.
I received the letters from your class today and they were brilliant. I’m actually going to be in Miami during the week of Career Day and I would love to come and present for Leo. Please let me know the details and where I need to sign up.
Thanks, Lando
Across the Atlantic, in the mid-afternoon heat of Miami, Y/N sat at her desk during recess, squinting at her laptop. She’d just received a notification from an address that sounded like a prank.
“Muppet driver four?” she whispered to herself, hovering her mouse over the 'Delete' key. She gets plenty of spam, but the subject line was too specific to ignore. She opened it, her brow furrowing as she read.
"Lando?" she muttered. She checked her class roster. She didn't have a student with a dad or uncle named Lando. Maybe it was a cousin? Or a family friend of Leo’s grandparents? Whoever it was, they seemed sincere about helping Leo, and that was all that mattered to her.
She typed back a quick, professional response, assuming this was just a well-meaning local gamer with a very strange handle.
From: Y/N Subject: RE: Career Day - Classroom 3B
Hi Lando,
Thank you so much for reaching out! It is incredibly kind of you to volunteer for Leo. He’s a wonderful boy, and I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have a "stand-in" big brother for the day. I’ve attached the official visitor sign-up link below.
Just a heads up: 3rd graders can be a bit high-energy, especially with guests, so make sure to bring your "patience hat!"
Also, for the school's security records and the guest roster, could you please provide your full name and your current profession?
Warmly, Ms. Y/N
Back at his apartment, Lando’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He swiped it open, expecting a "OH MY GOD" or at least a "Mr. Norris?"
Instead, he stared at the words "stand-in big brother" and "patience hat."
His jaw dropped slightly. He looked at his reflection in the darkened TV screen—the face that was currently on billboards from Monaco to Singapore. The face of the reigning Formula 1 World Champion.
"A stand-in?" he said to the empty room, a mix of disbelief and genuine amusement bubbling up in his chest. She had no idea. She thought he was just some random guy named Lando with a Muppet-themed email address who probably worked in an office or a shop.
He looked at the question about his "profession." He could have typed it right then, but the devilish side of him took over. He wanted to see her face when he actually walked into that gym.
He clicked the sign-up link and filled in the bare minimum.
Full Name: Lando Norris Profession: Driver
He hit send with a triumphant smirk.
"Just a driver, Ms. Y/N," he chuckled, leaning back into his sofa. "I hope your 'patience hat' is ready for the chaos I’m bringing to Miami."
-
The day before Career Day was usually a whirlwind of nervous energy and "desk-cleaning" (which mostly involved shoving crumbs into backpacks), but the atmosphere in Classroom 3B shifted the moment the school’s front office buzzed the intercom.
"Ms. Y/N? We have two... extremely large deliveries for you. We’re sending the custodian up with a dolly."
When the crates arrived, they were wrapped in heavy-duty shipping plastic with McLaren Racing — Woking, UK printed in small, discreet lettering on the customs forms. Y/N didn't even register the "Woking" part; she was too busy trying to keep twenty-two eight-year-olds from toppling over the boxes.
Y/N sliced through the tape of the first box. Inside weren't just generic flyers or posters. There were twenty-two individual, thick cream envelopes, each with a child's name written in surprisingly neat handwriting.
"Okay, okay! Everyone to the reading rug!" Y/N called out, her own heart racing. "If I call your name, come grab your mail."
As the kids tore into the envelopes, the room exploded into a symphony of high-pitched gasps and frantic whispering.
"He said carrots are gross for him too!" one boy yelled, waving a letter where Lando had hand-drawn a tiny "X" over a stick-figure carrot.
"Look! A real picture!" A girl held up a glossy driver card, signed in silver ink that caught the fluorescent classroom lights.
"He called me 'Mate'!" another shouted, trying out a very bad British accent.
The joy was unadulterated. It was the kind of pure, crystalline happiness only a third-grader can project—the feeling that someone "important" in the big, wide world had actually stopped to listen to them.
In the corner of the rug, Leo sat silently. He held his envelope like it was made of thin glass. When he finally pulled out the card, he didn't scream like the others. He just stared at it.
"Leo?" Y/N knelt beside him. "What did he say?"
Leo looked up, his eyes wide and shiny. "He said... he said he’s been practicing his 'cool walk' so he doesn't embarrass me tomorrow. And he sent me this." He pulled out a small, woven fabric wristband—Lando's own "Quadrant" merch—and slid it onto his tiny wrist. "He’s really coming, Ms. Y/N. The muppet driver is actually coming."
Y/N felt a lump in her throat. She still had no idea who this "Lando" person was in the grand scheme of things, but she decided right then that if he was a professional truck driver or a pizza delivery guy, he was officially the greatest human being on the planet for making Leo look that proud.
Then, there was the second box.
It was even larger than the first, heavy and solid. Taped to the top was a bright, neon-orange sign that looked like it had been scrawled in a hurry:
STOP!
MS. Y/N: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL AFTER THE CAREER DAY PRESENTATIONS IN THE GYM. NO PEEKING. I MEAN IT.
- L.
"What's in the big box, Ms. Y/N? Is it a car? Did he send a car?!"
"I don't think a car fits in a cardboard box, Toby," Y/N laughed, though she was dying of curiosity herself. She pushed the mystery crate against her back wall, the bright orange sign acting as a silent promise.
As she watched her students tuck their signed cards into their folders like sacred relics, Y/N felt a surge of protective warmth. Tomorrow was going to be special. She just hoped this "Lando" guy was ready for the absolute riot that was about to break out when he walked through those gym doors.
She checked her email one last time. Still no last name other than "Norris," and his profession was still just "Driver."
Probably a local delivery driver, she thought, smiling. I'll have to make sure the school gives him a really nice 'Thank You' mug.
Lando had stood on the podium at Silverstone with a hundred thousand people screaming his name, but standing behind a dusty velvet curtain in a humid Miami elementary school gym? His palms were actually sweating. He adjusted the collar of his team polo, checking his reflection in a trophy case filled with plastic bowling awards.
“You’ve got this,” he muttered to himself. “They’re eight. They’re literally three feet tall. It’s fine.”
He could hear the principal’s voice booming over a slightly feedback-heavy microphone. “And our final guest for today… he traveled all the way from England to be here for Leo in Classroom 3B. He told us his profession is simply ‘a driver’...”
Lando stepped out from behind the curtain.
For a split second, there was a stunned, vacuum-like silence. He was wearing the full papaya-and-black kit, the sponsor logos sharp against the dull gym floor.
Then, it happened. It wasn't a cheer; it was a sonic boom.
Twenty-two children in the third row erupted. They didn't just clap—they leaped onto their chairs, screaming, "LANDO! LANDO! LANDO!" at the top of their lungs. The rest of the 3rd grade, catching the fever, joined in.
Y/N, who had been leaning down to tie a student's shoe, snapped upright. Her jaw didn't just drop; she actually stepped back, her eyes darting from the man on stage to the "muppet.driver4" email thread in her head. The "delivery driver" was the reigning World Champion. The man who lived on her classroom's Monday morning highlights reel was currently waving at Leo.
The noise level was reaching "structural damage" territory. The principal looked helpless. Lando looked slightly terrified.
Y/N stepped into the center aisle. She didn't scream. She didn't use the mic. She just raised two fingers to her lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the air like a siren, followed by a rhythmic series of three claps.
Clap. Clap-clap.
Like a well-oiled machine, twenty-two kids snapped into a seated position and echoed the claps back. Clap. Clap-clap. Silence fell over the gym instantly, save for one stray kid whispering, "It's really him."
Lando stared at her, his hand frozen in mid-wave. He watched the way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her expression shifting from "stunned woman" to "commanding officer" in three seconds flat.
Oh, Lando thought, his heart doing a weird little flip that had nothing to do with G-forces. I am in so much trouble.
Once the formal assembly was over, Lando followed the "Papaya Class" back to their room. He was immediately faced with his greatest challenge yet: the furniture.
"Mr. Lando! Sit by me!" Leo cried, pointing to the desk next to his.
Lando, who was nearly six feet of lanky athlete, proceeded to fold himself into a tiny plastic chair designed for an eight-year-old. His knees were practically hitting his chin.
"Comfortable?" Y/N asked, leaning against her desk with an amused smirk. She was still processing the fact that a multi-millionaire was currently trapped in her classroom, but her teacher-brain was starting to take over.
"Top tier," Lando wheezed, giving her a thumbs-up. "Aerodynamic."
"Okay, class," Y/N said. "Since Mr. Norris is here, we have ten minutes for questions. Remember: polite and one at a time."
The hands shot up like a forest.
"Are you rich?" Toby asked immediately. "Like, can you buy a million Robux?" Lando chuckled. "I... uh, I do okay. I could probably manage the Robux."
"Do you have a girlfriend?" a girl in the front row asked, squinting at him suspiciously. Lando’s eyes instinctively flickered to Y/N, who was suddenly very interested in her lesson planner. "No. No girlfriend. Too busy driving in circles, I guess."
"Can I touch your hair?" Before Lando could answer, three kids were already standing up. Within seconds, Lando was being swarmed. He leaned down, laughing, as six small hands patted his curls. "It’s soft! Like a poodle!" someone yelled.
"Wait!" Lando said, checking his watch as the lunch bell neared. "I realized I didn't ask what the cafeteria is serving today."
"Square pizza and lukewarm corn," Y/N replied dryly.
Lando made a face of pure horror. "Absolutely not. Not on my watch." He pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen. "How many are we? Twenty-two kids, you, the principal, the janitor who brought the boxes..."
"Lando, you don't have to—"
"I'm ordering," he insisted. He didn't really know how much children ate, so he just started scrolling.
Forty minutes later, the school office called up, sounding panicked. "Ms. Y/N? There are four delivery drivers here with... is this right? Fifty large pizzas, twelve dozen wings, and three crates of lemonade?"
Lando looked up from where he was showing Leo how to play a racing game on his phone. "Is that not enough? I can get more. I didn't know if they liked pepperoni or pineapple, so I just got both of everything."
Y/N looked at the mountain of food arriving and then at the McLaren driver who was currently letting a student use his $50,000 custom watch as a "stopwatch."
"Lando," she sighed, though she couldn't stop the smile from spreading. "You’re going to give them a sugar crash that will last until the next Grand Prix."
"Worth it," he said, catching her eye and holding the gaze. "I'm the 'stand-in big brother,' remember? It’s my job to cause problems."
The week between Career Day and the Miami Grand Prix was a blur of logistics, permission slips, and what Lando technically called "strategic planning meetings"—which were actually just very poorly disguised dates.
For the sake of the thirty-two third-graders (and the school board), they kept it strictly professional in the group chat. But in the quiet moments after the school bell rang, things were a lot less formal.
A tucked-away taco shack on the edge of Wynwood.
Lando had shown up in a nondescript black hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low, looking more like a nervous teenager than a world champion. Y/N was still wearing her "Teacher Mode" cardigan, her hair a mess from a day of explaining long division.
"I still can't believe you're the 'Muppet Driver,'" she teased, dipping a chip into salsa. "You realize I almost deleted your email? I thought you were a bot trying to sell me crypto."
Lando laughed, a genuine, throat-clearing sound. "I was so offended. I kept looking at my phone like, Does she not see the blue checkmark? But honestly? It was the best thing that happened all month. No PR, no sponsors. Just... Lando."
He didn't mention that he’d spent twenty minutes in his hotel room choosing which hoodie made him look "casually cool" but not "trying too hard." When their hands brushed over the basket of chips, the electricity was enough to power the Miami grid.
A private corner of a high-end Italian restaurant (Lando’s pick).
They were supposed to be discussing the bus schedule for the field trip. Instead, the permission slips sat forgotten on the white tablecloth, stained with droplets of expensive red wine.
"So, is it always like this?" Y/N asked, leaning in. "The noise, the cameras, the people expecting you to be... perfect?"
"Most of the time," Lando admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "It’s why I liked your classroom so much. The kids don't care about my points lead. They just want to know if I like carrots. It’s grounding. You’re grounding."
The way he said it made Y/N’s heart do a literal lap of the circuit. He wasn't looking at her like a fan or a teacher; he was looking at her like she was the only person in Miami who actually saw him. They stayed until the restaurant closed, talking about everything from his childhood in Bristol to her dream of opening a literacy center.
A late-night walk on a quiet stretch of Key Biscayne.
The Grand Prix was forty-eight hours away. The city was vibrating with F1 fever, but out by the water, it was just the sound of the waves.
"Tomorrow's the big reveal for the kids," Y/N whispered, her jacket draped over her shoulders—Lando’s jacket, which smelled faintly of expensive cologne and adrenaline. "They have no idea about... this."
"About us?" Lando stopped walking, turning to face her. The moonlight caught the curls he’d let her students mess with just days prior. "Is there an 'us' to hide, Ms. Y/N?"
The air between them felt heavy, charged with the kind of tension that usually preceded a lights-out start. Y/N reached up, adjusting his cap. "I think if twenty-two eight-year-olds find out their teacher is dating their hero, the school might actually implode from the excitement."
"Let it implode," Lando murmured.
He didn't kiss her—not yet. He just took her hand, his thumb tracing circles over her knuckles. It was a promise. A "see you at the finish line" kind of gesture.
As Y/N stood at the entrance of the Miami Paddock, herding twenty-two tiny humans in identical orange hats and "Team Norris" backpacks, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Muppet driver: Look at the camera during the pre-race interview. I’m wearing the bracelet Leo gave me. That’s for the class. The wink? That’s for you.
Y/N looked up to see Lando stepping off the driver parade truck. He spotted the "Papaya Class" and beamed, waving frantically. The kids went feral, screaming his name until their faces turned as orange as their shirts.
Lando caught Y/N's eye through the crowd. He didn't say a word, but he touched the woven friendship bracelet on his wrist and gave a quick, unmistakable wink.
"Ms. Y/N! Ms. Y/N!" Leo tugged on her hand, jumping up and down. "He did it! He wore my bracelet! He's the best driver in the whole world!"
"Yeah, Leo," Y/N said, her face heating up as she watched Lando disappear into the McLaren garage. "He really is."
The F1 Paddock is usually a shark tank of billionaire sponsors, frantic engineers, and celebrities trying to look like they know what a DRS wing is. It is not, historically, a place for "the buddy system."
Until today.
Lando didn't just walk into the Paddock; he led an invasion. He was at the front of a literal single-file line, holding a small orange flag he’d found in the garage. Behind him were twenty-two third-graders, each wearing a custom "Classroom 3B x LN4" shirt, a neon-orange cap pulled low, and a backpack that looked slightly too big for their frames.
"Okay, everyone! Eyes on me!" Lando called out, walking backward while checking for oncoming golf carts. "We are entering the 'Fast Zone.' If you see a car, what do we do?"
"FREEZE!" twenty-two voices screamed in unison, echoing off the hospitality units.
"Good. Leo, hands out of your pockets. Toby, stop trying to eat the lanyard," Lando directed with the focus of a man who was usually managing tire deg, not sugar rushes.
Y/N brought up the rear, acting as the "caboose." She was trying—and failing—to look professional, but watching the reigning world champion count heads like a nervous mother duck was doing irreparable damage to her composure.
As they passed the McLaren motorhome, Oscar stepped out, holding a green juice and looking like he’d just woken up from a very calm nap. He stopped dead, watching the orange blur of children march past.
"Uh, Lando?" Oscar asked, his voice deadpan as ever. "Is this a new weight-saving strategy for the car? Hiring smaller mechanics?"
Lando didn't even break stride. "Not now, Osc. I’m on Line Leader duty. We’re heading to the garage for the 'How a Turbocharger Works' seminar. It’s high-stakes."
Oscar blinked, watching a small girl at the back of the line wave at him. "Do they... do they know how a turbocharger works?"
"They will by lunch," Lando called back over his shoulder.
Further down the line, near the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning against a railing, talking to his engineers. He went silent as the parade approached. He watched Lando stop the line to help a kid tie his shoe, the British driver kneeling on the hot asphalt without a second thought.
"Lando," Max shouted, a grin spreading across his face. "Is this your new security detail? They look a bit short. I think I could take them."
Lando looked up, shielding his eyes from the Miami sun. "They’re my consultants, Max! They told me your car looks like a 'giant blue crayon.' Their words, not mine."
Max laughed, shaking his head. "They have good taste. Are you coming to the briefing?"
"Can't," Lando said, standing up and giving the signal for the line to move again. "I’ve got twenty-two juice boxes to hand out and then we’re doing a walking tour of the pit lane. I’m busy, Max. Real work."
Max watched them go, leaning over to his engineer. "I give him twenty minutes before he loses his mind."
As they reached the garage doors, the kids were ushered inside by a group of amused McLaren mechanics. Lando lagged behind for a second, catching his breath next to Y/N.
"You're actually really good at this," she said, leaning in so the kids wouldn't hear. "The 'Line Leader' look suits you. Very authoritative."
Lando wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his eyes bright. "It’s harder than qualifying, I’m not joking. If I lose one of them, my career is over. Zak would never let me live it down."
He looked at her, his expression softening as he ignored the chaos of the Paddock around them. "Thanks for doing this, Y/N. Seriously. Seeing them here... it makes the race feel like it actually matters."
"Mr. Lando!" Leo’s voice chirped from inside the garage. "Toby touched the tire and his hand turned black!"
Lando groaned, but he was smiling. "Duty calls."
He gave Y/N a quick, lingering look—the kind that said I can’t wait for dinner when it’s just us—before diving back into the sea of orange hats.
The Miami sun was brutal, but the kids didn't care. They were a solid block of screaming papaya-orange in the grandstands right at the exit of Turn 11. Y/N felt like she’d aged ten years in the last fifty laps, her hands white-knuckled on the railing as she kept a mental count of all twenty-two heads every thirty seconds.
The roar of the engines was a physical force, but even through the thunder of the grid, the kids' voices were piercing.
"HE'S COMING! HE'S COMING!" Leo shrieked, jumping so high Y/N had to grab the back of his custom jersey.
Lando was P1, but Max was a shark in his mirrors, less than half a second behind. As Lando flew past their section for the final time, the "Papaya Class" erupted. They weren't just cheering; they were trying to physically push him toward the finish line with the sheer volume of their lung capacity.
Lando, inside the cockpit, shifted his eyes for a split second toward that specific flash of orange in the stands. He was exhausted, his neck muscles screaming, but he thought of the letters, the "patience hat," and the way Y/N looked at him during their secret dinner two nights ago.
"Lando Norris wins the Miami Grand Prix!" the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.
The kids were practically vibrating as they watched Lando park the car at the #1 board. He hopped out, did his signature jump, and immediately looked toward the section where the school was seated. He gave a double-fist pump directly at them.
After the champagne had been sprayed (and the kids had cheered at the "adult juice" flying everywhere), Lando stood on the track for his post-race interview. He was drenched in sweat, his hair a chaotic mess of curls, clutching the trophy like it was a heavy 3rd-grade textbook.
"Lando, a massive win here in Miami," the interviewer began, the crowd roaring. "You had a lot of pressure from Max in those closing laps. What kept you focused?"
Lando took the mic, panting, a massive grin splitting his face. He didn't look at the main camera first; he looked toward the bleachers.
"Honestly? I had some very tough consultants watching me today," Lando laughed, wiping his forehead. "I’ve got twenty-two students from Classroom 3B and their teacher, Ms. Y/N, up in the stands. They’ve been using my race points to learn math all year, so I figured if I didn't win today, I’d be failing 3rd grade. This one is for the 'Muppet Driver' fan club. Thanks for the luck, guys!"
In the stands, the reaction was pure bedlam.
"HE SAID OUR NAME!" Toby screamed, hugging a random stranger next to him.
"WE'RE FAMOUS!" another girl yelled, waving her hat frantically at the jumbotron.
Y/N stood in the middle of the chaos, her heart doing something much faster than a pit stop. She looked down at her phone, which had buzzed in her pocket the second the interview ended.
Muppet driver: Did I make the other classes look lame enough? See you at the bus in 20 mins. I want a gold star for that one.
"Ms. Y/N!" Leo tugged on her hand, his eyes wide with wonder. "He’s the best driver ever, right?"
Y/N looked at the man on the big screen—the world champion who had just told the entire world that a group of 3rd graders was his motivation. "Yeah, Leo," she whispered, a tear finally escaping. "The absolute best."
The Miami Grand Prix had come and gone, leaving a trail of glitter, orange confetti, and twenty-two lifelong Formula 1 fans in its wake. But as the F1 circus moved on to Imola, Monaco, and Montreal, the connection didn't fade.
The "Monday Morning Highlights" had officially been rebranded. Now, it was time for The Lando Dispatch.
"Okay, class! If you want to see the video, I need everyone in their 'learning positions' in five... four... three..."
The chaotic scramble of 3rd graders hitting their chairs was a testament to Lando’s star power. Y/N stood at the front of the room, her hand hovering over the SmartBoard remote. She looked a little tired—the time difference for the European leg meant she’d stayed up until 2:00 AM on a FaceTime call with a certain driver—but she had a secret smile on her face that she couldn't quite shake.
"Is it from Japan?" Leo asked, leaning so far forward he was nearly off his seat. "Did he see a robot?"
"Let's find out," Y/N said, clicking Play.
The screen flickered to life. The video was clearly shot on an iPhone, the stabilization a bit shaky as Lando walked through a rainy paddock in Suzuka. He was wearing a bright yellow bucket hat and a thick team jacket.
"Oi, Classroom 3B! Checking in from Japan," Lando’s face filled the screen, grinning. He looked exhausted but his eyes were bright. "I’m currently hiding in the back of the hospitality suite because my trainer wants me to eat broccoli, and we all know how we feel about that, right Toby?"
The classroom erupted in giggles. Toby felt like a celebrity.
"So, update for the week: The track here is shaped like a figure-eight, which is basically a giant math problem. Ms. Y/N, I hope you're making them calculate my average speed through Sector 1, because I’m struggling with it myself."
Lando turned the camera around to show the mechanics working frantically on the car. "Look at the floor of the car. See those tiny holes? That’s for aerodynamics. It’s basically science, but faster."
The video slowed down as Lando walked toward a quieter area. His tone shifted slightly—it was still for the kids, but his eyes seemed to be searching for someone behind the lens.
"I heard you guys did great on your spelling tests. I’m proud of you. And I heard you’ve been looking after Ms. Y/N for me. Make sure she’s drinking her coffee and not getting too stressed about the end-of-year play, okay?"
He paused, a familiar, boyish smirk playing on his lips. "I sent a special package to the main office for you guys. It might involve some Japanese snacks that definitely have too much sugar. Don't tell the principal."
Then, just before the video ended, he adjusted his hat and leaned closer to the mic. "And Ms. Y/N? I found that book you were looking for at the airport. I’ve got it in my bag. See you soon. Bye, guys! Go McLaren!"
The SmartBoard went black, and for a second, there was total silence. Then, absolute mayhem.
"HE BOUGHT HER A BOOK!" "WE’RE GETTING CANDY!" "MS. Y/N, ARE YOU BLUSHING? YOUR FACE IS AS RED AS A FERRARI!"
Y/N quickly turned away to "organize" some papers on her desk, her heart thumping against her ribs. "It’s just... it’s hot in here, class. The AC must be acting up again."
"No it's not," Leo whispered, passing her desk to get a tissue. He looked at her with a knowing, 3rd-grade wisdom. "He likes you more than he likes the robot cars, Ms. Y/N. I can tell because he didn't even mention the turbocharger today."
Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.
Y/N: The Ferrari comment from Toby really hit home. You're a menace. Thank you for the video—they’re currently vibrating with excitement for the snacks.
A second later, her phone buzzed.
Muppet driver: Only a menace for you 😉 Give them the sugar, let them go wild, and then call me when you’re off the clock. I miss my favorite teacher.
-
The end of the school year at Sunshine Elementary always smelled like floor wax, tropical humidity, and the impending chaos of summer break. But for Classroom 3B, the air in the auditorium was thick with something else: a bittersweet anxiety.
They were "graduating" from the third grade, which meant leaving the teacher who had brought a world champion into their lives and leaving the only classroom that felt like a second home.
The principal stood at the podium, adjusting her glasses. "To conclude our Moving Up ceremony, we have a very special guest. He’s become a bit of a fixture here at Sunshine Elementary—though usually, he’s just here to drop off excessive amounts of pizza. Please welcome, Mr. Lando Norris."
The room didn't just applaud; it shook. Lando stepped out, looking significantly more "put together" than his last visit. He was in a sharp blazer over a white tee, though he still had that signature boyish grin that made him look like he’d just won a race he wasn't supposed to.
He stood at the mic, looking down at the front row where twenty-two kids sat in their best clothes.
"I’m not great at speeches," Lando started, his voice echoing. "I usually just talk to engineers about tire pressure. But this class taught me something important this year. I thought I was coming here to help a kid named Leo and maybe show off a little. But you guys ended up helping me. You reminded me that no matter how fast life moves, you have to stop and write a letter once in a while. You have to care about the people around you."
He looked directly at Y/N, who was sitting off to the side, her eyes already shimmering.
"You guys have a world-class teacher," Lando said softly. "She’s the one who makes the real overtakes every day. So, as you move to the fourth grade, remember what she taught you: focus, kindness, and—apparently—how to subtract my pit stop times."
As the applause died down, it was time for the final certificates. Y/N walked to the podium, her hands trembling slightly as she held her final stack of folders.
"Before we hand these out," Y/N said, her voice catching, "I have a small announcement. Usually, this is where I say goodbye and tell you I’ll see you in the hallways next year. But... I spoke with the principal and the district board last month."
The kids went silent. Leo gripped the edge of his seat.
"I realized I’m not quite ready to let this team go," Y/N smiled, a tear finally falling. "So, next year, Classroom 4B will have a familiar face. I’m moving up with you. I’m looping."
For a heartbeat, the kids just stared. Then, it was Miami all over again. A sea of eight-year-olds (soon-to-be nine-year-olds) surged forward, ignoring all decorum, and tackled Y/N in a massive group hug.
"WE'RE STILL WITH MS. Y/N!" Toby roared, muffled by her cardigan.
In the middle of the celebratory chaos of cake and punch afterward, Lando found Y/N by the refreshments table. The parents were busy taking photos, and the kids were currently preoccupied with a "Who can eat the most icing" contest.
Lando leaned in close, his shoulder brushing hers. "You did it. One more year of chaos. You’re a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"
"I just couldn't imagine a year without them," she whispered, looking at him. "Or the vlogs."
Lando reached down, his hand finding hers behind the safety of a tablecloth. He squeezed it tight. "Good. Because I already cleared my schedule for next year's Career Day. I’ve got to defend my title as the 'coolest adult.'"
"Ms. Y/N! Ms. Y/N!" Leo ran up, stopping short when he saw how close they were standing. He looked at Lando, then at Y/N, then back at Lando. He squinted suspiciously. "Are you guys going to get married now?"
Lando choked on his lemonade. Y/N turned a shade of pink that rivaled the school’s hibiscus bushes.
"Leo!" Y/N gasped. "Go... go find your grandmother!"
Leo didn't move. He just grinned, a missing front tooth making him look especially mischievous. "It’s okay if you do. Then Mr. Lando can be our permanent dad. I’ll tell the class."
As Leo sprinted away to spread the newest rumor, Lando looked at Y/N and laughed, a bright, helpless sound. "Well," he said, pulling her just a little bit closer as the sun set over the Miami schoolyard. "I guess I better start looking at rings. I don't want to disappoint my consultants."
Y/N laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Just make sure it's not orange, Lando."
"No promises," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
-
The Miami sun was dipping below the skyline, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and purple that felt poetic. It was the color of home, the color of that first massive delivery box, the color of their beginning.
Classroom 3B wasn't just a class anymore. They were fifth graders now, older, taller, and more articulate, but they were still his kids. And they were all here, lining the walkway of a stunning estate terrace overlooking Biscayne Bay.
All twenty-two students stood in a single-file line, a "buddy system" one last time for this special occasion. Lando had insisted. They were dressed to the nines: the boys in matching navy blue dress slacks, crisp white shirts, and perfect papaya-orange bowties; the girls in matching pale peach dresses with delicate lace accents.
Toby, now slightly taller but still mischievous, was acting as an unofficial usher.
And right at the front, holding a small velvet box like it was the most precious cargo in the world, was Leo. He’d outgrown the Quadrant wristband, but he was wearing Lando’s actual championship watch for the day—a loan that made him feel like he was ten feet tall.
Y/N walked down the aisle, the sound of the ocean a quiet soundtrack. She looked breathtaking in a simple, elegant lace dress, her hair flowing in the soft evening breeze. When she reached Lando, he didn't even try to hide the tears. He took her hands, his hands still the ones Leo and the others had swarmed with curiosity just a few years ago.
"I promise," Lando murmured, "that I will always answer your 'muppet.driver' emails. And I promise that even if I'm on the other side of the world, I'll always be your 'patience hat' when you need it. You made math fun for twenty-two kids, and you made life a race worth running for me."
Later, at the reception, the party was in full swing. The kids were currently trying to organize a game of "freeze" on the dance floor, ignoring all requests to stay seated.
Lando stood up, champagne flute in hand. He tapped the mic, silencing the room. He looked around at the guests, at the McLaren team, at Y/N, and finally, at the group of fifth graders who were currently watching him with rapt attention.
"I have a confession to make," Lando started, his voice a little shaky. "I didn't come to Sunshine Elementary because I was a good person. I didn't come because I was a world champion with a soft heart."
He looked directly at Leo.
"I came because Leo wrote me a letter that said, and I quote, 'I want you to make the other classes look lame. Because none of their adults have a job as cool as yours.' I’ll be honest, I was a twenty-something champion, and I had a bit of an ego problem. I thought, 'Absolutely, I’m a professional racing driver, I can easily outshine a CPA from the neighboring class.' It was a competition. I came to win."
The room chuckled, but Lando’s face softened.
"I thought I was giving Leo a favor. I thought I was lending him an adult relative for a day. But I was so wrong. I came for Career Day, but I ended up finding my family. You twenty-two kids taught me that a win isn't just about points on a board. It’s about the noise when you walk into a room. It’s about being there for someone when they don't have anyone else. It’s about realizing that I didn't just meet a teacher that week. I met my wife. And she happened to come with twenty-two built-in siblings for my future children."
Lando choked up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He raised his glass.
"To my amazing wife, the looping line leader of my heart. And to Classroom 3B, 4B, and now 5B. To family. To never racing alone. Cheers."
"CHEERS, MR. LANDO!" twenty-two voices screamed in unison, raising their juice boxes.
As the music swelled and the party really began, Lando took a moment to orchestrate one last group photo. There was Lando and Y/N, world champion and teacher, surrounded by the single-file line of matching papaya outfits. They weren't just the 'Muppet Driver' fan club anymore. They were the original, chaotic crew that had built a family, one letter at a time.
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summary: when your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise visit to ptmc, your boyfriend and the rest of your co-workers realise you might have a type…
pairing: jack abbot x fem!reader & ex bf!mark sloan x fem!reader
warnings/tags: established relationship, implied age gap between abbot & reader and mark & reader, flirting, fluff, swearing, mark don’t give a fuck that the reader is in a relationship, but reader is respectful of boundaries, defs a bit of jealous and insecure Jack if you squint
notes: hot hot hot hot hot give them both to me now thanks!! also massive shoutout to the anon that requested this 🙂↕️
likes, reblogs, comments are very much appreciated!
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“Ew.”
The word left you before you could stop it as you sunk your teeth into a granola bar.
You grimaced as you turned over the wrapper, examining it like it might explain why you felt like you were currently eating a stick of glue.
“Are these expired?” You asked through the mouthful.
McKay barely glanced up from where she had half her body buried in the fridge, rummaging past several abandoned containers and a suspiciously wet paper bag.
“Nope, they’re just a by product of the drywall factory down the road.” She answered.
You stared at the bar for another second, trying to muster up enough willpower to finish it given you hadn’t eaten lunch.
After abandoning that mission in under 10 seconds, you leant over the bin and spat out the mouthful with as much decorum as you could before unceremoniously dumping the rest of the bar after it.
“Those things aren’t that bad.” Whitaker mused as he wandered into the breakroom with Santos hot on his heels.
“That’s because you were raised on hay.” Santos remarked dryly.
“They’re raspberry flavoured.”
“That’s not helping you Huckleberry.”
You huffed a laugh as the two of them started bickering just as your phone buzzed in your pocket. You leant against the wall, only half listening as you pulled it out of your scrubs and saw a notification from Jack.
He must have just woken up from his pre-shift nap. The corner of your mouth lifted as you read his reply.
You: Are you coming in early today?
JA ❤️: Always.
You quickly typed out another message.
You: any chance u could bring in a protein bar for me? the ones at work are inedible
The reply came almost instantly.
JA ❤️: I know. I’ve told Robby they are a serious health hazard.
You smiled at that as you watched the three dots blink back at you.
JA ❤️: I’ll be in soon. I already have some in my bag for you.
You: are you psychic?
JA ❤️: Just good at pattern recognition.
Your smile widened as his reply came through.
You: thank u 🩷
JA ❤️: 👍
“What are you smiling at?”
You looked up to find McKay watching you over the fridge door.
“What?”
“That.” She pointed vaguely at your face. “Whatever that was.”
“Nothing.”
Santos and Whitaker paused their arguing to focus on you.
Santos studied you, her face contorting into a grimace. “Gross.”
“What?”
“I just can’t get over the fact that Abott reduces you to…” She trailed off, waving vaguely at you.
“That?” Whitaker supplied.
“Yeah.” Santos nodded gravely. “That.”
You rolled your eyes, sliding your phone back into your scrub pocket.
“I think the two of you are starting to fuse into one brain cell.”
Santos’ expression went still. “….that was genuinely hurtful.”
You turned to Whitaker. “There’s your new button to press.”
Whitaker’s grin widened as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Santos. “Oh I cannot wait to bring this up multiple times a day.”
Santos glared at you. "You're a traitor."
You pushed off the wall, shaking your head as you made your way towards the door.
“Never give your triggers away Santos.”
“You’re still a traitor!” She called out.
You waved her off without looking back, escaping before she could start another argument.
You barely made it two steps before nearly colliding with Samira.
“Oh sorry.” She came to an abrupt halt, the usual frazzled expression etched onto her features as she looked up at you.
“You all good?”
“Yeah um- have you seen Joy?”
“Not for a little while.”
“No worries, if you see her can you tell her I need her in Room 3?”
“Sure.” You nodded, tilting your head slightly as you studied her. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yeah fine.” She brushed you off as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Haven’t had lunch so I’m a bit cranky.”
You nodded in understanding. “Word of warning, don’t eat the protein bars.”
Samira’s nose wrinkled as she stepped around you. “Why on earth would I do that?”
You threw your arms up dramatically. “Am I the only one who didn’t know they were inedible?”
“Apparently so.”
You huffed, pulling your hair out from under your collar as you made your way over to the status board which was currently glowing above the chaos that was the ED like a cruel little scoreboard.
Your hands settled on your stethoscope as you scanned the board. Less than an hour till your shift was over, at least officially. Which given your track record of overtime, meant close to nothing.
“Hey.”
You glanced over to see Perlah leaning against one of the desks.
“What?” You asked warily.
Her smirk widened. “Have you seen the hot visitor?”
“The what?”
Princess appeared beside her, equally delighted.
“Absolute smoke show.”
Princess nodded towards the far end of the station. “Follow the sounds of Joy giggling.”
Your brows knitted together.
“Joy? As in our intern, Joy? As in the complete antithesis of her name, Joy?” You queried.
“See for yourself.” Perlah grinned.
You followed their line of sight to the other end of the nurses station where a tall figure stood, leaning an arm on one of the benches.
At first, all you saw was the back of a leather jacket, familiar in a way that made your stomach drop before your brain had fully caught up. The man shifted slightly, turning just enough for a familiar profile to come into view. The same hair coifed to perfection, the same self-satisfied slant of his mouth.
And sure enough standing beside him, blushing furiously as she giggled, actually giggled, at whatever he had just said, was Joy.
“I didn’t even know she was capable of laughter.” Princess remarked.
You closed your eyes for one brief, pained second. “You have got to be kidding me.” You grumbled.
Before either Princess or Perlah could ask what was wrong, you were already moving, making a beeline towards them.
Princess and Perlah exchanged a look behind your back. “What just happened?” Princess asked in Tagalog.
“I don’t know." Perlah muttered. "But I think it’s going to be good.”
By the time you were close enough to hear the familiar deep drawl of his voice, Mark Sloan had inched in just enough to make Joy look like she might pass out.
“So, is that the only piercing you have or...?”
You rolled your eyes.
“Still shamelessly hitting on interns I see.”
Mark turned at the sound of your voice. For half a second, there was nothing but surprise. And then his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Well I’ll be.”
That familiar grin spread slowly across his face as his eyes travelled down your body with the same shameless appreciation he’d had years ago, like he was undressing you from memory.
“Cupid.” He said the nickname lowly, like he’d never stopped saying it. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
You shot him a fake smile. “Wish I could say the same.”
Joy looked between the two of you, blinking rapidly, as if she was trying to decipher a complex math problem. You turned your attention to her, offering her a polite smile.
“Dr Mohan's looking for you, something to do with your patient in room 3.”
“Oh right.” Joy nodded, adjusting her glasses as she glanced at Mark. “On it.”
“Bye Joy.” Mark called out lazily, watching her blush as she scurried away, nearly walking into a wall in the process.
He turned to you, looking pleased with himself as he leant forward. “Why do you always have to ruin my fun?” He pouted once she was out of earshot.
"Someone has to."
Meanwhile, McKay, Whitaker and Santos had exited the breakroom, not even bothering to conceal their ogling as they clustered around a monitor.
“Ok who on earth is that?” Santos queried.
"And why does he look like he just walked off a photoshoot?" McKay muttered.
“And how do they know eachother?” Whitaker added.
“He called her Cupid.” Joy casually commented as she walked past them.
Whitaker’s brow furrowed. "....Cupid?"
Santos froze. The faint amusement dropped away, replaced by the sharp, dawning horror of someone remembering a detail they were never supposed to need.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” McKay and Whitaker asked simultaneously.
"Do you guys remember that time at karaoke?"
"....the one where she sang No Scrubs at Abbot?"
"No. The one when she accidentally admitted she had an ex at Seattle Grace that used to call her Cupid."
McKay and Whitaker both slowly turned to stare at Mark, then at you, then back at Mark.
Back at the nurses’ station, you folded your arms, ignoring Mark's attempts at getting under your skin.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh some conference.” He waived his hand dismissively. “Thought I’d take the opportunity to come see Robinavitch.”
You blinked. “You know Dr Robby.” You said slowly.
“Since med school.” He answered smoothly. “Why? Hoping I was here to see you?”
You snorted. “Please.”
“Oh c’mon Cupid don’t act like you don’t miss me.” He smirked as he stepped closer. “You wouldn’t have moved across the other side of the country to forget about me if you didn’t.”
You leant in slightly, shooting him a dry smile. “I wouldn’t touch you again even if my life depended on it Sloan.”
He let out a genuine chuckle. “I’ve missed this.” He gestured between the two of you. “Us."
He placed his chin in the palm of his hand, leaning even closer. "Why did it ever end?”
You pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe because you’re physiologically incapable of staying monogamous?”
“Oh yeah right that.” He nodded. “Speaking of monogamous..."
"No."
"... I’ve heard you’ve got a new boy toy right here at PTMC.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Jesus Christ Meredith needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”
“Well in her defence she told Derek who then told me so….” Mark trailed off, turning his body around to survey the room. “Which one is he?”
"I'm not playing this game." You answered, folding your arms over your chest.
“Wait let me guess.”
Before you could stop him, Mark placed both hands on your shoulders and gently turned you so you were both facing the floor of the pitt.
His eyes landed on Frank first. “Too pretty boy.”
He guided your shoulders slightly towards Whitaker. “Too scrawny.”
From across the room, Whitaker stiffened. “…Why is he looking at me?”
Santos didn’t look away. “Don’t wave.” She murmured.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Then the ambulance bay doors opened. Jack walked in with a thermos in one hand, his bicep bulging as he shifted the backpack slung over his other shoulder on full display under his dark fitted shirt.
Your stomach dropped as his eyes scanned the room, no doubt looking for you. It didn't take long for his eyes to find yours. You watched as they shifted to Mark, then dropped to Mark's hands resting on your shoulders.
For a moment, his expression barely changed, only the faintest tightening around his jaw gave him away. Then he kept walking.
Mark smiled slowly. “….bingo.”
Your body stiffened as Mark glanced sideways at you.
“I’m right."
You didn't answer.
"I am."
“I’m not talking about my love life with you of all people.”
“Cupid, don’t be like that.” He nudged your shoulder. "Come on, what’s he like?”
“Well for starters, he volunteers as a medic for the SWAT team.” You said sweetly. “So he’s got at least one gun on him at all times.”
Mark nodded slowly, dropping his hands from your shoulders. "Noted."
"He also has excellent aim."
"Message received." Mark held his hands up. "I'll behave."
And then, for the first time since he had appeared, the teasing faded.
"But seriously..." His face softened slightly as his eyes settled on your face properly, no longer performing for the room.
“You’re happy?”
You exhaled slowly, your defences lowering slightly by the unexpected tone of his voice.
“I am.”
“He good to you?"
You smiled softly despite yourself. “He is.”
Something flickered across Mark’s face then, softening the usual sharp lines of his smirk, scarily close to being something sincere. “Good.”
For a moment, the years between you settled there. It didn’t feel painful or bitter or even sad. In fact, it seemed absurd to think that you'd cried over him once upon a time. Now he was just a story you told after one too many drinks, something you reflected on and shook your head, chalking it up to the foolishness of youth.
You cleared your throat, looking away first. “How’s work?”
“Busy, chaotic, dramatic.” Mark shrugged.
"So the usual then?"
“The usual.”
He glanced around the emergency department, frowing slightly as he took in the noise, the movement, the organised disaster of it all. “How’s the ED?”
“Busy, chaotic.” You echoed. “Somehow still much less dramatic than Seattle Grace."
Mark barked out a laugh. “Yeah that checks out.”
“Sloan.”
The two of you turned to see Robby making his way towards you, Jack beside him.
Mark's grin returned instantly.
“Robinavitch.” He broke away from you and pulled Robby into a hug with the force of someone who had never respected personal space in his life.
"A lot less hair since I last saw you."
Robby snorted, clapping him on the back. "The Pitt will do that to you.”
Jack caught your eye over Robby’s shoulder, his expression running a fine line between faint amusement and annoyance.
Robby stepped back, shaking his head before gesturing to Jack.
“This is Jack Abbot, night attending.”
“Nice to meet you. Mark Sloan.” Mark stuck his hand out. “Head of Plastic Surgery at Seattle Grace.”
“Plastic surgery?” Jack's brow lifted slightly as he shook Mark’s hand. “Explains the soft hands.”
Mark laughed loudly enough that several people looked over.
“Oh my god.” Whitaker mumbled as he watched Jack and Mark shake hands. “It’s like I’m seeing double.”
Santos shook her head. “She’s got some serious issues.”
McKay folded her arms over her chest as she studied the two men. “Or just good taste.”
“I second the good taste thing.” Princess murmured as she appeared beside McKay.
Perlah took a sip of her drink and nodded. “I third that.”
The handshake lasted just a fraction longer than necessary as Mark glanced over at you. “I get it."
Robby’s eyes narrowed as he gestured between you and Mark.
“You two know eachother?”
“I was an intern at Seattle Grace." You supplied quickly.
“Oh yes, Cupid and I go wayyy back.” Mark smirked.
Robby's confusion only deepened. “Cupid…?”
You shot Mark a warning glare, which he very intentionally ignored.
“Yeah Cupid.” He answered smoothly. “'cause you know she’s got these little angel wings tattooed right above her-“
“Okayyy you know what.” Robby clapped his hands letting out a bark of awkward laughter. “I think a hospital tour sounds like a great idea right about now."
Mark's eyes gleamed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was going to say shoulder blade."
“You are going to walk with me." Robby said, already steering him away, “And tell me absolutely none of the rest of that story.”
Mark let himself be guided down the hall, still grinning smugly as he glanced back over his shoulder at you and winked, making you roll your eyes once more.
You dragged your eyes away from him to look at Jack who was yet to move. He watched Mark disappear down the corridor, then looked back at you.
He slowly stepped forward, eyes scanning your figure as he placed his hands casually behind his back.
"Ex?"
You sighed. "...Ex."
Jack nodded curtly. “Got it.”
“Abbot.” You looked over to see Dana studying both of you. “Dr King needs an attending in Room 8.”
Jack's eyes never left you. You watched him intently, waiting to see if he would say anything further. Instead he simply reached into his pocket and produced a protein bar.
You swallowed as he slid it into the front pocket of your scrub top, his fingers lightly against your side subtly.
“Eat.” Was all he said, unable to hide the affection in his voice.
Your throat tightened around a smile as you nodded. He held your gaze for one more second, then turned and headed in the direction of Room 8.
You watched him go, your hand subconsciously brushing over the side that he’d just touched.
When you looked back, Dana was still standing there, one hand on her hip as she watched you over her glasses with an expression far too knowing for your liking.
“Don’t you dare say a word.”
She raised her hands up in mock surrender. “Wasn’t gonna.”
You huffed as you turned, suddenly desperate to busy yourself in order to keep your mind off the cluster fuck that was your two worlds colliding.
For the next twenty minutes, you threw yourself back into work. Every few minutes though, your gaze betrayed you, either drifting towards the corridor where Robby had taken Mark or towards Room 8, where Jack had disappeared. The protein bar sat heavily in your pocket, your appetite now completely non-existent.
By the time you ended up at a computer to finish off your charting, your shift was close enough to ending that you had started to believe you might actually survive it.
“Oh damn, the patient in room 7 died.”
You glanced up to see Whitaker staring at a chart from the workstation beside you.
“The old lady with the chest pain?”
“Yeah.” Whitaker sighed.
You frowned. "That sucks."
“She had a husband right?” Santos chimed in from across from you, not bothering to look up from her own computer.
“Yeah she did, married nearly fifty years."
Without missing a beat, Santos glanced up at you. “Abbot better watch out.”
Your eyes narrowed.
"Nice. Very respectful." Whitaker shook his head, although you could see he was trying not to laugh.
"What?" Santos shrugged. "Our girl clearly has a type."
"Silver foxes?" McKay suggested as she walked past grinning like a cheshire cat.
"I hate all of you."
Whitaker looked over at you like he was genuinely offended. "What did I do?!"
Across the hallway, Jack had just emerged from Room 8. Your eyes met his. He didn’t react beyond the faintest lift of one eyebrow, but you could tell he'd heard every word.
You tipped your head slightly towards the supply closet. Jack looked at you for half a beat, then gave the smallest nod.
You waited a couple minutes before moving.
The supply closet was narrow, overstocked, and smelled faintly of antiseptic and cardboard. You shut the door behind you and leaned against a shelf, exhaling slowly for what felt like the first time in an hour.
A few minutes later, the handle turned. Jack stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. He leaned back against the opposite shelf, folding his arms loosely across his chest as the two of you studied eachother.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“So… that’s your ex.”
“That’s my ex.”
He nodded. "You left out a few details."
"Such as?"
His gaze dropped briefly, then returned to your face.
“Well first of all I wasn’t expecting Mark Sloan.”
Your brows lifted in surprise. “You know who he is?”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“Of course you have.” You paused for a moment before your voice dropped slightly, unable to hide the insecurity in your tone. "Do you think less of me because I dated someone like him?"
Jack's brows knitted together. "Absolutely not." He said immediately. "It's just that I wasn't expecting your ex to be..."
Your brow furrowed. “Be what?”
“…old.” Was what Jack settled on.
You let out a disbelieving laugh. “He’s not old, he’s like your age.”
“Exactly.” Jack nodded. “I'm practically from the stone age compared to you.”
“You’re not.” You insisted.
Jack’s mouth twitched, but the smile didn’t quite hold as he looked down at the floor.
You studied him for a moment, admiring the lines etched deep into his face that you’d had memorised for as long as you’d known him. “Does it bother you that he’s older?”
“No it doesn’t bother me it’s just...” He sighed. “I thought I was the exception.” He confessed.
Your face softened instantly as you pushed off the wall and took a step towards him.
"Jack."
"I know it’s irrational.” He said, giving a small, self-deprecating shrug. “I just thought I was the first older doctor you’d made questionable life choices over.”
You huffed a small laugh as you closed the gap between the two of you, reaching up to cradle his jaw.
“Hey.” You said gently, guiding his eyes up to meet yours.
“When I met Mark I was young and overwhelmed and had just moved to a new city and he was…” You trailed off, glancing at the door like Mark might somehow materialise on cue.
“…well you’ve seen what he’s like.”
You brushed a thumb over his stubble that lined his jaw. “It barely even qualified as a relationship. And then it ended and we worked together for months. And then I moved.”
Jack leant into your touch slightly, his eyes never leaving your face as you spoke, attentive in the way that always made your heart ache a little.
“And then on my first day here I met a grumpy doctor up on the roof while I was mid meltdown.”
His brows drew together in feigned disbelief. “I don’t think he was grumpy.”
“He told me if I was thinking of jumping I shouldn’t because it’d be a shame to ruin a face like mine.”
The frown that had a hold on his face loosened just a fraction. “Why on earth would he think that line would work.”
“In his defence, I think he was a little out of practice.”
His hands settled at your waist, warm and steady through the thin fabric of your scrubs. “Or his brain short circuited when he saw you.”
Your smile widened as you slid your arms around the back of his neck, entwining your fingers absentmindedly around the silver curls at the nape of his neck.
“Well, lucky for him it worked.”
The reluctant smile finally reached his eyes. “Very lucky.” He corrected.
He glanced down, playing with the tie of your scrub pants.
“I just can’t believe you dated a plastic surgeon.”
You snorted softly. “Is that seriously what’s bothering you the most?”
“Yes.” He answered plainly.
You shook your head, a wry smile on your lips. “Not the stupid nickname?”
Jack glanced down at you, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.
“If he calls you that again I may have no choice but to punch him.” He conceded casually as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
His head tilted slightly as he studied you for a moment. “But at least he can fix his own nose up after.”
You let out a laugh, running a hand over his chest. “Don’t worry.” You soothed. “I already told him you volunteer with the SWAT team.”
Jack smirked down at you proudly. “Atta girl.”
Then he leant down and finally pressed his lips to yours in a slow, reverent kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes narrowed immediately.
“Did you eat?”
You winced slightly. “Not yet.” You patted the pocket that contained the protein bar. “I’ll eat this and then go.”
Jack frowned, clearly unsatisfied with your solution. “Go home and eat something more substantial.”
“I will.”
“There’s pasta in the fridge for you, all you have to do is chuck it in the microwave.”
Your interest piqued immediately. “The pesto one I love?”
“Of course.”
You grinned, pressing your forehead against his. “You’re very good to me Dr Abbot.”
His smile softened into something private, something reserved just for you. “Anything for my girl.”
You kissed him again, deeper this time, enjoying the feeling of his warmth seeping into you.
“Alright.” He muttered reluctantly against your lips as he pulled away. “Get going before I end up locking you in here.”
You smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He shot you a warning glare with absolutely no bite to it.
You huffed dramatically, “alright alright.”
You reached for the door, then paused, glancing back at him.
“And for the record, if you’re worried about feeling old…”
Jack raised a brow.
“You should meet my other ex, he checked into the nursing home down the road last week.”
“Very funny.” He muttered, trying but failing to look unamused.
“I know I am.”
“Go.” He urged as he tapped your backside affectionately.
You raised your hands in mock defeat, slipping back into the pitt without another word.
Jack shook his head as the door shut softly behind you, a lovesick smile spreading across his face.
As always always always, feedback is always appreciated because I thrive off praise. Please give it back here and consider tipping me! 🤍
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader x toddler!daughter
Warnings: fluff, domestic, light teasing, family dynamics.
Summary: Jack Abbot ends up flat on his stomach serving as a human canvas for his three year old daughter.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
Jack was flat on his stomach, completely at the mercy of his daughter. He wore only a pair of grey sweatpants, leaving his broad back completely bare.
Or rather, it had to be bare. Right now, it was a masterpiece in progress.
"Hold still, Daddy," the girl whispered, her fingers clutching a paintbrush like a magic wand. She smoothed a thick stroke of bright turquoise paint right over his left shoulder blade. "You need big wings."
Jack sighed, resting his cheek against his crossed forearms. A lazy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'm holding as still as I can, bug. But that tickles."
"''tayyy stillll," she instructed, her tongue poking out in concentration.
Your man was the one who commanded trauma rooms and now he was reduced to a human canvas for a toddler.
"How’s the masterpiece coming along, my little artist?" you asked, stepping into the room and dropping to your knees beside them.
Your babygirl looked up, her cheeks smudged with skyblue paint. "Mommy! Look! Daddy’s a fairy. I need more pink... More pink, please?" She held up a completely empty messy plastic palette.
"You got it, sweetie," you said, reaching for the bottles of paint on the coffee table. You squirted a generous amount of pink onto her palette. "Hold on, bug. If we're doing a fairy, we have to do it right."
You reached over to the craft basket and pulled out a shaker jar of extra fine silver glitter.
Jack's head, slowly, turned toward you. His eyebrows climbed up his forehead, and he leveled you with a glare that said, Seriously?
"You..." he muttered. "Tell me you're not giving her the glitter."
"It's a crucial element of her artistic vision, Jack," you replied, trying to hide your grin.
"Glitter is so hard to wash off," he warned. "I'm going to be sweating silver in the ER tomorrow, for God's sake."
"Yay, shine wing!" the toddler cheered, completely ignoring her father's concerns. She held her tiny hands out, cupping them together.
You carefully shook a small pile of shiny silver dust into her palms. "Okay, bug. Very gently, put it onto Daddy's wings."
Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight, shielding his face in his elbows. "I'm a grown man. I am a department head," he reminded the floorboards.
The toddler leaned over his back, took a deep breath, and let out a huge PFTH.
A cloud of silver glitter exploded through the air, settling beautifully over the wet, blue and pink paint... and over Jack’s hair.
Jack opened his eyes and slowly looked back over his shoulder.
His back was SHINING.
He gave you another look.
"Beautiful, an absolute vision" you choked out, biting your lower lip hard to keep from laughing out loud as your baby clapped her sticky hands together, proud of her work.
"I'm letting her have her fun now, but you're the one who has to help me scrub all this off in the shower later."
"Deal," you laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
-
"You're a beautiful fairy, Daddy," she whispered after paiting his back with a little more of the pink paint, her voice dropping into a sweet tone. You recognized it, it was almost nap time.
"Yeah?" he asked softly. "You think I can fly now?"
His little girl nodded as she let out a yawn. "High the sky. To stars." Her eyelids fluttered but she shook her head stubbornly.
"Are you tired, bug?" you asked her softly.
"No, more," she mumbled, blinking against the sleepiness as she reached out a sticky hand toward the jar of glitter. "Needs..." She settled her little knees on either side of his spine, straddling his lower back, and took the jar from your hands. Her movements grew slower. Her arm hovered in the air, the jar tilting dangerously, before her hand finally came down to rest heavily on Jack’s body.
Then, she didn't collapse against him. Instead, she just stayed right there, sitting completely upright on his back like a tiny sleepy statue. Her chin slowly sank down to her chest, her breathing went deep and her grip on the glitter jar loosened as she drifted straight into dreamland, perfectly balanced.
Jack didn't move. "Is she... did she just fall asleep sitting up?" he whispered.
"She's out cold," you giggled quietly, leaning closer to look at her. Her head swayed slightly with her deep breaths, but her little legs remained locked on his waist, holding her upright in her sleep. "She’s like a little bear, oh my."
"A very creative bear," Jack murmured. He carefully reached one large hand behind his back, resting his palm flat against her small waist to keep her steady and secure. "I can't stay like this forever, as comfortable as my back apparently is."
"Don't move, I have to capture this," you whispered. You quickly grabbed your phone and snapped a photo.
"Help me out, baby," Jack groaned silently.
You moved in close, gently slipping your arms under your babygirl's arms and lifting her weight off his back. She let out a soft sigh but didn't wake up, immediately tucking her head into your neck.
With his back finally free, Jack carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked at his little girl, then felt the hardness of the paint drying on his back. "Please tell me we have a scrubbing brush in the bathroom."
