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thinking about being steve’s coworker who he thinks is all innocent because you’re so damn sweet and completely oblivious to his flirting.
but he truly gets the shock of his life as he walks through the mall before his shift one morning and sees you through the window of the damn lingerie store next to scoops. his throat feels impossibly tight, his palms beginning to sweat at the thought of you—sweet, seemingly innocent you—buying anything from that store.
people barge into him as he completely freezes—borderline ogling you as you pick up a baby blue set and consider it carefully, a gentle finger running over the lace. steve’s cock thickens in his shorts at the thought you wearing that and he has to pull himself together before he truly embarrasses himself.
of course, he thinks about it all day. of course his eyes flicker to your bag hanging up in the staff room and wonders if you had bought the set. of course, his stomach bubbles with jealousy at the thought of you wearing the racy number for anybody who wasn’t him.
so yeah—steve thought about that little lingerie store next to scoops an awful lot.
Summary: Jack Abbot's relaxing day off takes a turn for the worse when he hears his phone ring. After all, his phone is on do not disturb and there's only one person that he's allowed to interrupt his peace — you. Even worse, your voice isn't the first thing he hears when he picks up.
Pairing: Jack Abbot x nurse!reader
Warnings: f!reader, violence against healthcare workers, language, mentions of bodily harm, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries sustained at the workplace, use of the word 'assault', Jack Abbot's dead wife mentioned, description of a drunk driving accident, Frank Langdon catches some strays, use of the nickname 'sweetheart', use of the nickname 'slugger', no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 5.5k
Author's Note: Yo — so I'm still alive. I have been stuck in The Pitt for awhile now. This one has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a hot second. I also have a Robby fic sitting in there that I desperately need to finish. Those two men have truly bewitched me. Anyways, hope y'all are ready to be stuck in The Pitt with me for the time being. Hope you guys enjoy this one!
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
“Motherfucker!”
You angrily hit the coffee maker that has been causing the entire emergency department trouble for the majority of today’s shift. Langdon had watched you struggle earlier this morning before swooping in to fix the problem with a swift hit to the side of the machine and an off hand comment about having the ‘magic touch’. So, you imitate his actions now — hoping another dose of caffeine will help get you through the last couple hours of your shift. The machine stops its incessant beeping just as it had hours ago, but instead of brewing a fresh cup of mediocre coffee, the interactive screen goes completely black.
Great.
You squeeze your eyes shut and take in a deep breath. If Jack were here, he’d miraculously show up beside you with a latte in hand. You don’t know how he does it, but the man just knows exactly what you need and when you need it — you’ve taken to calling it his ‘sixth sense’. In reality, that’s Jack — observant and steadfast.
You miss the night shift.
It’s not that you dislike the day shift. In fact, you happily accepted Dana’s request for your help covering for Donnie during his paternity leave. In Robby’s words: they needed another nurse practitioner on the day shift and there’s only one that he trusts. A part of you thinks that it was just flattery to get you to come to the light side, but deep down you know that Robby only knows how to speak honestly. Lena wasn’t necessarily happy to let her best help switch shifts for an extended period of time, but she also knows that the ED is a team — sure the staff is split between day shift and night shift, but things only run smoothly when the shifts help each other out.
Jack wasn’t too keen on the idea.
He couldn’t stop you of course — Lena is your supervisor, not him. But that didn’t stop him from voicing his concerns. Jack Abbot has always been protective of his nightcrawlers, but there was something verging on possessive in the way he told Robby that this is simply a temporary arrangement after he realized he couldn’t change your mind.
“Should I call Ahmad to escort the caffeine criminal off the premises or do you have a handle on the situation?”
Robby’s voice breaks through your thoughts. You let out a sigh before turning to face the day shift’s senior attending. His expression, usually threaded with deep exhaustion and stoicism, is teetering on the edge of playfulness while a small smile tugs at his lips.
“Y’know what, Robinavitch? We never had this problem when we had the old machine. Mr. Coffee only had three buttons and never betrayed me.”
Robby lets out a breath through his nose — not quite a laugh, but the closest he’ll get to one this late into his shift. Gloria had decided to get the department a fancy new coffee maker that makes individual cups instead of a full pot a few weeks ago to celebrate improved patient satisfaction scores. What was meant to be a gesture of goodwill from upstairs has become the staff’s worst nightmare.
“You sound like Jack.”
You roll your eyes, but you also know no one has been more upset about this change than the night shift’s senior attending. Robby has always brought his own coffee from home, but Jack has been relying on the emergency department’s supply of shitty coffee for the entirety of his career at PTMC. You’d asked him about it once when you first started working together and he’d revealed under fluorescent lights that there was something comforting about the way it reminded him of the coffee rations he’d receive during his deployments.
“Have you talked to Jack recently?”
Robby attempts to sound nonchalant; however, you know him better than that. You’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s worse than the night shift nurses. Always needing to be in the know about everything and everyone. He swears that it’s because he’s the senior attending, so it’s his responsibility to keep an eye and ear on all of his staff. But Jack isn’t like that. He’s always been reserved and professional during shifts, always keeping his staff at a distance so he doesn’t get too attached — everyone except for you. In between cups of coffee and rooftop conversations, you managed to slip through the cracks of that cool, steely exterior.
“We talk during handover, but that’s not exactly the same as working a twelve hour shift with someone. Why? Anything I should be concerned about?”
Robby’s lips pull into a tight smile at your response, but anxiety finds its place in your chest. During handoff about a week ago, Mateo had pulled you aside to ask if you had any idea what was going on with Jack. Your brow furrowed as Mateo filled you in about Jack’s sudden change in demeanor with his staff — the once calm and collected attending has been increasingly impatient and scattered. You’d reassured Mateo that it was probably just stress related since Jack hadn’t had a day off in months — and even then he spent his rare off-call moments volunteering as a SWAT medic. You figured that Jack had finally hit a wall and was running on fumes, but Robby’s words were now making you second your assumptions.
“Nothing of concern, just looking out for you and Jack.”
Robby has this tone that makes it seem like he knows more about your relationship with Jack Abbot than you do. You know about his history with the night shift’s senior attending physician, but Robby hasn’t been there for the close calls at three o’clock in the morning when Jack puts his complete trust in your hands without a second thought. He hasn’t been there for the nights that seem to drag on for days when it seems like the sun will never rise again. He hasn’t been there for the hushed conversations in stairwells when the night feels darkest and the only comfort to be found in PTMC is in each other’s presence.
It’s not a bond built on flirtation — God knows, Jack Abbot flirts with everyone. And does that make you a little jealous? Maybe. And were you hoping that the distance created due to being on day shift for a few weeks would help you create some boundaries with the man? Possibly. But here you are, still infuriatingly infatuated with a man you have absolutely no chance with.
“I can assure you there’s no Jack and I.”
“Mhm.”
That damn tone again. You want to smack that smug look right off of his stupid face, but before you get the chance to fire back a commotion outside abruptly ends your conversation. The two of you move in tandem, Robby holding the door to the break room open as you duck under his arm before surveying the scene. Your eyes immediately widen as you spot Langdon attempting to keep two infuriated men on their separate gurneys as they yell over each other. He meets your eyes before moving his gaze to Robby, relief flooding his features.
“A little help here?”
You and Robby share a brief, knowing look before dividing and conquering the situation. Robby steps in, wheeling one of the men away while you follow after Landgon who is moving with the other.
“What’s the story here?”
You have to shout over the man’s incessant yelling, but Langdon ducks his head down slightly as he navigates the gurney through the ED to hear you better in the chaos. From not too far away, you hear Robby yell for Whitaker to take over his unruly patient so he can go find Ahmad for back up. Langdon’s shoulder bumping into yours pulls your attention back to your own situation.
“Bar argument gone ugly.”
The man laying on the gurney is bleeding profusely from lacerations on his forehead, but is cognescent enough to keep loudly threatening the other patient that came in with him. You manage to get a closer look at his wounds once Langdon locks the gurney in place and through the deep crimson you see little, semi-translucent pieces of debris. Your brow furrows as the light catches one of the pieces.
“Is that glass?”
Langdon nods before meeting your eyes with a crooked smile plastered on his face.
“Beer bottle to the head. Told you it got ugly.”
You let out a breath before gloving up with Langdon. As the two of you attempt to assess his injuries the man begins to fight you both off, pushing your hands away before either of you can start getting control of the bleeding. You pull back hoping to get the man’s attention so that Langdon can start giving him the care he needs.
“Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down so that we can take a look at your injuries. Can you tell me your name?”
Finally, the man’s eyes land on you but they are filled with nothing but unbridled fury. You fight off the urge to take a step back from the situation and, instead, stand your ground.
“What I need is to get my hands on that son of a bitch who tried to fucking kill me. Can you help me with that?”
You raise both of your hands as the man fights off Langdon once again. He gives you an exasperated look as his shoulders slump in annoyance.
“I can not, this is a hospital not a fighting ring. What I can help you with is getting your bleeding under control and taking that glass out of your head before you get a nasty infection. How’s that sound?”
Your tone is stern but gentle as you attempt to talk the patient down. For a moment, his face softens in understanding and you almost let out a sigh of relief after having gotten through to him, but then Whitaker’s voice tears through the moment.
“I’ve got a runner, incoming!”
“Oh, shit.”
Langdon’s tone makes your heart rate spike, but before you get a chance to turn towards the commotion Whitaker’s very angry patient shoves you into the wall.
“We need some help in here! You good?”
Langdon’s worried eyes are locked on you as he tries to keep the two patients from tearing each other apart. Your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but you had managed to stay on your feet which saved you from any additional trauma. After catching your breath, you leap in to help restrain the patient who just assaulted you.
“Sir, please. We need you to calm down!”
Your words fall on deaf ears as he continues to lunge at your patient who is now being held back by Langdon. What a fucking mess. You haven’t had a situation like this since last year’s Fourth of July night shift when two drunken men came into the E.D. after one of them practically eviscerated his buddy’s legs after shooting off a firework directly at him. Your eyes desperately meet Langdon’s, hoping he’s in the same boat as you, and he gives you a similar look of bewilderment.
“Whitaker! Ahmad! Anyone!”
Langdon’s voice is strained as the man in his arms struggles against his hold. You’re using all of your strength to pull Whitaker’s patient away from your own, but he’s got at least a foot and a hundred pounds on you. Keeping him restrained is taking all of your strength. Finally, Whitaker’s shoes squeak as he slides into the room.
“Woah, what can I do?”
Langdon gives him a ludicrous look before his eyes land on you.
“Give them a hand, will ya?”
Whitaker immediately jumps in to help you. You were hoping the additional body could help even the odds with these men; however, they seem to be getting more violent by the minute. The man in your grasp reels back and shoves Whitaker, who stumbles back. Now with only you holding him back, he takes this as a chance to take a swing on Langdon.
“Absolutely not!”
You grab his arm and pull back before he can land a punch. The man lets out a desperate, angry cry and swings his arm back hard. His elbow connects with your nose with a loud crack. The room explodes further than you thought was possible as you spit out the blood draining into your mouth due to the blow. The searing hot pain blooming across your face blinds your vision.
Fuck, that hurt.
You blink once, then twice — your eyes finally adjusting to the damage. Your patient has seemingly settled down enough to be left alone, while Langdon has your assailant in a chokehold as Whitaker tries to pin his arms behind his back.
“What the hell is going on in h—?”
Robby’s words die in his throat once his eyes land on you. His face twists into concern for a brief, fleeting moment before a dangerous rage washes over his hardened features.
“Knock it off before I knock you out.”
Robby’s voice is ice cold and it suddenly pauses the entire room. The only noise filling your ears is everyone’s heavy breathing. Robby lets everyone cool down for a moment before barking out orders.
“Ahmad, get this man out of here. Whitaker, take over the patient who didn’t attack one of our nurses. Langdon, with me.”
Everyone complies instantly and you let out a relieved sigh as the tension in the room finally dissipates. Robby makes his way to you in two large strides with Langdon behind him. He drops his head to meet your eyes which have regained their comforting warmth.
“How you doing, Slugger?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”
Robby raises a brow as you spit more blood on to the floor, narrowly missing his sneaker. Langdon gives you a similar incredulous look. Obviously, your attempts to brush off their concern have fallen on deaf ears. Great. Two hours from shift change and now you’re a patient.
This day can’t get any worse.
Robby takes another step forward and carefully places a hand on your chin and gently tilts your head up toward the ceiling. You grimace immediately at the bright, fluorescent lights above you.
“You’ve got two black eyes, a broken nose, and you’re bleeding all over the floor. This isn’t nothing.”
His voice is surprisingly gentle and his features soften into a look you can only describe as brotherly concern. You sigh defeatedly, squeezing your eyes shut as the adrenaline in your body begins to subside giving way to an invasive and persistent shooting pain in your head. Robby’s hands find your shoulders — you aren’t sure if the physical contact is meant to provide you comfort or a precaution in case you pass out. Either way, you appreciate the way his delicate hold grounds you back into this moment.
“I’m going to have Langdon take you to an empty room and do a full exam. Okay?”
You open your eyes again and nod at his question. Robby’s posture relaxes slightly, obviously relieved that you didn’t stubbornly push back against his orders. He rubs your shoulders reassuringly for a moment before speaking again.
“We’re going to have to document all of this. Dana is dealing with a situation in chairs, but I’ll have her come find you when she’s done.”
You nod again, pursing your lips together into a straight line. You don’t love the idea of making a big deal out of this, but you also know that violence against health care professionals is at an all time high. The last thing this department needs is you trying to push this under the rug. Finally, Robby releases his hold on your shoulders and allows Langdon to step in.
Robby runs both his hands through his hair as he watches Langdon lead you towards a room at the back of the ED. He moves towards the hub in the center of the large room, gripping the countertop as he allows himself a moment to gather his thoughts. This is a nightmare. He needs to call Gloria about the situation that just happened. There’s a stack of paperwork that needs to be filled out. Someone has to alert the authorities. And worst of all, he needs to call Abbot.
Hopefully, the asshole that assaulted you will be off the premises before the night shift attending rips through the emergency department. Not because he cares for the wellbeing of your assailant — more so that he doesn’t necessarily want to bail his best friend out of jail tonight. Robby sighs as he digs his phone out of his pocket. He finds Jack’s contact easily in his favorites and presses the speaker to his ear. To his surprise, the call immediately goes to voicemail. Robby knows that Jack has the day off; however, he’s always easy to reach — especially if you’re on shift. So, he dials the number again and presses the phone to his ear. But just like before, he is once again met with Jack’s voice apologizing for missing the call. That’s odd. His brow furrows, but before he can think about his friend’s odd behavior further he’s distracted by a concerned voice behind him.
“I heard about what happened. Dana’s almost done in chairs. How can I help?”
Robby turns to look at Perlah who is currently trying to catch her breath from her obvious sprint over to him.
“Do you know who their emergency contact is?”
If he can’t get ahold of Jack, he might as well let your other loved ones know what happened. Perlah side steps the attending and logs in to one of the computers on the other side of the counter. It only takes a couple seconds to pull up your digital file and a smile spreads across the nurse’s features as she spots the name listed.
“Abbot.”
Of course he is.
“I can’t get a hold of him.”
Perlah’s expression reflects his own confusion for a moment until she remembers a conversation she had with you in the break room earlier this morning.
“He’s gone fishing.”
Robby’s eyes shoot to his hairline as a laugh bubbles in his chest. He attempts to picture his friend in a boat by himself on the river with a fishing rod in his hand, but his mind cannot seem to compute that absolutely ludicrous concept.
“Abbot is fishing?”
“Apparently they convinced Abbot to actually take a day off, put his phone on do not disturb, and find a hobby that doesn’t involve getting shot at.”
Robby’s eyes drift to the room he watched Langdon escort you to as he attempts to wrap his head around the information he was just given. Jack Abbot is fishing on his rare day off because you asked him to find a hobby that doesn’t involve putting himself in harm’s way — and he listened. He wants to be impressed, but instead he’s just annoyed at the two of you — he’s fucking tired of watching the two of you dance around your feelings for one another. He looks down at his phone again, still confused at how his paranoid best friend could actually relax when he’s unreachable while you’re still on the clock.
Oh.
The realization hits him like a slap to the face and he looks up at Perlah who is still anxiously waiting for the attending to start barking out orders.
“Do you think you can manage to get their phone?”
Perlah frowns for a moment, confused by his question. And then her face lights up as she comes to the same realization as the attending standing in front of her. A smile pulls at her lips as she nods at Robby’s request.
“I think I can manage that.”
Jack Abbot enters the emergency department like a hurricane — his presence immediately disrupting the fragile peace they’ve managed to establish since your assault. Robby meets him at the door, stopping him before he can cause any unnecessary damage.
“Where is she?”
Robby frowns. Abbot’s voice is lacking its usual warmth — in its place is a fiery, impatient intensity.
“Let’s just cool down for a second. She’s alright — getting checked out by Langdon as we speak. Okay, Jack?”
Abbot’s brown eyes darken at Robby’s words. His posture stiffens and he’s suddenly aware that he’s no longer looking at his best friend. No, the man standing before him is a devoted soldier with one mission and God help anyone who gets in his way — he certainly isn’t dumb enough to stand between the two of you.
“Exam room 11.”
Abbot brushes past Robby without another word and marches toward the back of the emergency department. He finally feels like he can breathe again as he enters the doorway and watches Langdon press an icepack to your nose. You flinch away from him and Frank lets out an exasperated sigh.
“You are a horrible patient.”
“Well, you’re a horrible nurse. You have to be gentle.”
Abbot leans against the doorframe, his body relaxing now that he’s heard the sound of your voice. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips at your defiance. Eventually, Langdon pulls the icepack away from your face and his blood runs cold as he gets a look at your injuries. It takes every ounce of what’s left of his self control to stay put, instead of forcing Robby to let him know who did this to you.
“I’ve got it from here, Langdon. You can get back to work.”
Both of your heads snap towards the attending standing in the doorway, but Jack’s eyes never leave yours. He watches as your expression shifts from confusion to relief before taking a few steps into the small exam room.
“Hey, Abbot. I’m actually almost done here. The rest of the exam will only take a minute.”
Jack finally regards the other man in the room, but his demeanor shifts to annoyance as Langdon continues to occupy your personal space — as he watches another man’s fingers glide gently over your cheek while he’s standing right there. The sight makes him sick to his stomach as a pervasive, ugly feeling claws at his chest.
“Langdon. Out. Now.”
Langdon’s movements suddenly still and the room immediately feels too small for the three of you. Luckily, the resident does what Jack says and exits the room without sparing you a second glance. Jack’s cold demeanor melts as soon as he hears the door close behind Langdon.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Jack’s voice fills the room and you finally feel safe. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you hear his boots take careful, calculated footsteps move towards you. This is a dream — it must be. Jack’s fishing today, unreachable until after your shift ends. But then he’s standing in front of you, invading your personal space in a way that’s so undeniably him. You finally look up, meeting his piercing gaze and you swear his jaw ticks slightly as he takes in the full extent of your injuries.
“It looks worse than it is.”
It’s a lie, but all you want is to smooth out the worried creases on his forehead. Jack tilts his head slightly at your words — considering them for a moment. His hands move slowly allowing you time to pull away, but you let him cradle your face with a tenderness that feels misplaced in this environment. His thumb gently brushes under your eye, where deep purple bruising has made its temporary home, and you flinch away from his touch before he even makes it to the worst of your injuries. Jack pulls his hands away from you and you involuntarily frown — a smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he watches the way you chase his touch.
“Do me a favor?”
You nod at his question — not fully trusting your voice at this moment. Jack bows his head slightly, meeting you eye to eye. His gaze is a raging wildfire of emotions. It’s a stark contrast to his calm demeanor and steady hands.
“Don’t lie to me.”
You roll your eyes at this as he stands to his full height again. His hands find their way back to you again, settling on your knees as he begins assessing your injuries further. You lean in closer to him without even thinking about it — it’s like Jack Abbot is the sun and you’re simply a planet trapped in his orbit.
“How are you here?”
Jack’s brows knit together at your question, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. His thumb absentmindedly rubs gentle, grounding circles against your scrubs as his gaze trails over every visible wound on your face.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re supposed to be fishing.”
His face scrunches at your words, but he doesn’t stop his careful assessment of your condition.
“I got a call.”
“Your phone was on do not disturb — you were unreachable.”
“To everyone other than you.”
Your breath catches in your chest at his words. He says it nonchalantly, but the significance of that statement lands harder than the elbow you took to the face. You’re the only person that Jack would let interrupt his day off. Hell, you’re the only reason he took a day off to begin with.
“But how… Perlah.”
Jack’s head tilts as he watches you put the pieces together. Not too long after Langdon got you into the exam room, Perlah found the two of you. She helped Langdon with the exam for a few minutes before cursing that her phone had died before she made an important call. You had offered her your own, thinking nothing of the interaction. But now you understand exactly what transpired when Perlah left with your cell.
“Yeah, scared me half to death when it wasn’t your voice on the other end.”
Your frown deepens at that. You can only imagine the fear that clawed its way back into Jack’s chest — can only imagine the unwanted memories it brought up. Your eyes glance down at his left hand, where a silver wedding band permanently resides. You remember the morning on the roof when Jack finally told you about his late wife after a particularly difficult shift. The two of you had lost a young woman whose vehicle had been struck by a drunk driver. You watched Jack go above and beyond for the woman in a way you’d never seen before. And you noticed the way his entire demeanor shifted once he had to call it after an hour of compressions. Jack slipped out of the ED the moment that the day shift showed up and you followed after once you completed handoff. You found Jack on the edge of the roof — not surprising on any other day, but a concerning visual after what you just witnessed that night. He knew you’d find him — you always do. And as you took your usual place, leaning your elbows against the railing right behind him, he finally opened up about the worst day he’s ever experienced. You listened as he told you about how his wife was in an accident. How she was dead on impact and EMS found her phone on the scene. How Jack was her only emergency contact. How he despises that the last time his wife called him he never even got to hear her voice. How he knows he’s your emergency contact. How his heart can’t go through that again.
“I’m sorry, Jack. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about me on your day off.”
Jack’s brow furrows at your words.
“Sweetheart, all I do when I’m not with you is worry.”
You both let that sentence linger in the room for a few moments. Jack continues to trace shapes into your shrubs as you attempt to calm your nerves as you realize how intimate this conversation feels. Finally, Jack breaks the silence.
“Can you just come back to the night shift so I can stop freaking out every time my phone rings throughout the day?”
You almost smile at that.
“Donnie comes back in two weeks.”
You mean for that to be comforting; however, this only makes Jack’s body stiffen in response. His head drops as he lets out a long sigh.
“Two weeks is too long.”
“You’re not my boss, Jack.”
Jack pulls his hands away and you watch as he runs them through his short, grey curls. He looks exhausted — and you suddenly feel guilty that his relaxing day off has turned into this.
“You’re right, but sweetheart, I can’t do this without you anymore.”
A part of you wants to throttle him because of that nickname and how easily it falls off his lips — how it’ll only feel right when it’s his voice saying it to you.
“Do what?”
Jack looks at you and his face twists into confusion as he realizes your question is genuine.
“Get through the fucking night.”
A beat passes. You desperately want to just say yes. It’s what you want isn’t it? Returning to the night shift — returning to him. But that’s also the problem. What is this? You thought your switch to day shift would give you some sort of explanation, but your time away has only made you more confused. Would it actually just be easier if the two of you only saw each other during handoff? No domestic moments between cups of coffee, no more mornings spent side-by-side on the rooftop, no more stolen, fleeting touches as he passes you on your way to the hub. You know what you are to Robby — to everyone on day shift. It’s simple. But with Jack — it’s never been simple and maybe that’s the problem.
“What if I want to stay on the day shift?”
Jack recoils like you just threw a punch at him. Guilt claws up your throat as you watch his face fall. It’s a lie — you know that it is. You love everything about the night shift, but you also don’t know how much longer you can keep playing this game with Jack before you simply fall apart.
“Why would you want that?”
“Because at least I know where I stand with everyone here.”
Jack’s brow furrows — you hate that it’s cute. That everything about him draws you in.
“You don’t know where you stand with me?”
You shake your head and he scoffs — the sound is surprisingly cold. He looks at you, brow pinched into a scowl. And then he realizes that you’re serious. Your expression is nothing but unashamed honesty and his head cocks to the side at that. Do you really think he’s been stringing you along this entire time? That this has all been meaningless flirtation? That you mean nothing to him?
He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your knees. Your breath catches as he reaches up and gently cradles your face. His touch is different than before — all professionalism has been cast aside and is now replaced with his overwhelming adoration. Without thinking your fingers grab the hem of his black t-shirt. He smiles as he feels you nervously pick at a loose stitch before he ducks his head and his lips finally meet your own. Your grip on his t-shirt tightens as he moves his hands through your hair. Now this is a dream. The kiss is soft and restrained — you know he’s holding back due to your injuries. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Jack pulls away too soon for your liking, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he places his forehead against yours.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been yours since the minute you walked through the fucking door.”
You bite your lip as you attempt to hold back the giddy grin that begs to spread itself across your face.
“You never said anything.”
Jack pulls away at that, not far — just enough to get a good look at you. The look on his face is incredulous — like it’s absurd you don’t know that his entire life revolves around you at this point.
“I thought I made myself abundantly clear.”
You laugh at that and Jack steals a kiss from your lips just because he can.
“I take it Robby gave you the rest of the day off?”
You nod, smiling as you feel Jack thread his fingers through yours.
“He told me to go home after Langdon finished my exam — who you should apologize to.”
Jack’s jaw clenches slightly as his brow furrows.
“Him being here was unnecessary.”
You watch him for a moment, trying to understand what happened between the two men that never seemed to have any sort of animosity prior to today. And then your hand tightens around Jack’s as you realize what happened.
“You were jealous.”
Jack rolls his eyes.
“I have no reason to be jealous.”
You raise a brow at his statement. He’s not wrong — he has no reason to be jealous of Frank Langdon, but you know the resident somehow got under his skin. He may be able to maintain his facade of nonchalance to the rest of his staff, but you see right through him.
“What makes you so confident?”
“Because Langdon isn’t the one taking you home right now, is he?”
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader (ft Michael Robinavitch)
Warnings: bloody angst, hurt, domestic accident, falling down stairs, blood, facial injuries, medical procedures, angry Abbot.
Summary: A routine task like doing laundry turns into a nightmare when a sudden slip makes you trip on the stairs. With a deep cut on your face and an injured knee, you try to downplay your clumsiness, but for your husband, Jack, the accident is anything but funny.
🎀 based on this request 🎀
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
You were trying to balance a mountain of folded laundry in your arms, hurrying to get back downstairs before the timers on the kitchen stove went off.
Jack’s voice always echoed in your mind in these moments—“Stop running on the stairs, please.”
But you rushed anyway.
Your foot caught the edge of the third step. The laundry flew from your grip, sending sheets and towels flying as your weight shifted violently forward.
You launched. Your knee slammed hard against one step, and before you could even register the ache there, the sharp edge another one scraped violently across your cheekbone.
For a second, the world just went completely quiet. You were crumpled on the steps, the breath knocked clear out of your lungs, staring down. The pain in your knee was loud and throbbing, and your face felt… numb.
"Doll, what happened? Are you okay?"
Jack’s voice broke the silence. You looked at him, his gaze sweeping over the scene. Because of his leg, he couldn't just drop to his knees or rush up the stairs to scoop you up; he had to take each step deliberately. The frustration of his own physical limitations was already written in the tight line of his jaw.
"I'm fine!" you managed, your voice sounding small. "Just... dropped the towels. And added another bruise to the collection." You tried to laugh, pulling yourself up to sit straight.
Jack reached the step just below you. "Don't move. Stay exactly where you are."
His tone was rigid. Stripped of all warmth.
"Jack, seriously, it’s just a scrape—"
"I said, don't move," he snapped, his fingers gently but firmly clamping onto your chin to tilt your face upward into the dim stairwell light.
That was when you felt it. A strange trickling sensation creeping down your cheek. Something dripped past your jawline. You reached up to touch it, but Jack caught your wrist mid air, holding it tightly away from your face.
But your fingers were already stained red.
"Oh," you whispered, the adrenaline suddenly spiking. "That's... blood." You tried to deflect with a nervous laugh. "Does the cut matches the bruise on my knee? A matching set for the collection. I'm keeping you in business, Doc."
Jack didn't laugh. He didn't even smile.
"Shut up," he said. "Don't make a joke out of this."
"Jack, I'm just trying to—"
"I don't care what you're trying to do." He snapped, letting go of your chin. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it firmly against your cheek. "Apply pressure. Hold it there."
You took over, pressing the cloth to your face, the sting finally waking up beneath the numbness. "Don't talk to me like that. I just tripped."
"Because you were running! How many times do I have to ask you to slow down?" Jack’s hands were trembling slightly. "You treat your own safety like it’s a punchline. 'Another bruise to the collection.' Do you have any idea what it’s like for me to hear a crash and know I can't run down there to catch you? Do you know what went through my head when I saw you lying here?"
His voice cut through your defense mechanism. You looked at him, he was angry and terrified. And, you knew, he was trapped by a body that wouldn't let him be the protector he desperately wanted to be.
"I wasn't trying to minimize it," you said softly. "I joke because I'm embarrassed, Jack. I'm clumsy, and I hate that I make you worry."
"I don't care about being worried," Jack replied. "I care about you being safe. I spend all day at the hospital patching up people who didn't see the accident coming. And you... you're rushing through our own home like you're invincible. And I can't... if something happens to you, I can't get to you fast enough. You know that."
The silence returned, heavier this time.
Jack gently reached out, taking your hand away from the handkerchief to check the bleeding. The edge of the cut was clean, but it was deep enough that it would probably need a few butterflies, if not a stitch or two.
"It needs to be cleaned properly," he murmured. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah," you whispered, wincing as you shifted your weight onto your bruised knee. "I can stand."
"Good." Jack took a deep breath. Once he was stable on his good leg, he offered you his hand. "Let's go fix you up. No more jokes."
"Okay. No more jokes," you agreed, letting him pull you up into the kitchen.
Jack guided you to a stool by the kitchen island. Without a word, he moved around, pulling a first-aid kit from the cabinet and grabbing a damp washcloth from the sink.
"Keep pressure on it," he ordered softly, setting the kit down.
When he turned back to you, he pulled up another stool, carefully positioning his stiff leg out to the side so he could sit close enough to work.
"Okay, take the cloth away. Let me look."
You pulled the blood soaked handkerchief from your cheek. Almost instantly, a fresh crimson stream welled up from the split in your skin, tracing a rapid path down your jaw and dripping onto your collarbone.
Jack’s brow furrowed. He took the damp washcloth and gently tapped around the wound, trying to clear the area to see the actual depth of the laceration. "Hold still. I know it hurts."
The cold water hit the raw nerves, and you gasped, leaning back instinctively. "It stings—god, Jack."
"I know, I know. Don't pull away from me." His hand was firm on the back of your neck, holding you in place. But as he wiped a fresh layer of blood away, the wound immediately filled again, spilling over. The edge of the step had sliced deep, right over the prominent curve of your cheekbone where the skin was tight.
He waited a beat, pressing a clean piece of sterile gauze against it, counting silently under his breath. One minute. Two minutes. When he pulled it back to check, the blood welled up just as fast. It wasn't clotting. The edge of the cut was jagged, grinning open in a way that made his stomach do a sick flip.
Jack let out a frustrated breath. He didn't say anything, but the professional shift in his posture told you everything.
His ER doctor self had completely taken over.
"I-Is it bad?" you asked, your voice trembling.
"It’s deep," Jack said, his voice felt cold. "It tore right through the dermal layer. It’s too wide for butterflies, and because of the location on your face, it’s going to keep opening every time you talk or blink. I can't close this here. It needs a layered suture, and it won't stop bleeding until it gets one."
He packed a thick stack of sterile gauze against your cheek, taking your hand and forcing your fingers to hold it there with heavy pressure.
"We're going to the hospital," he said, already standing up. The sudden movement made his brace click sharply.
"Jack, can't you just do it? You have a kit, you're a doctor—"
"I don't have a local anesthetic or the proper fine gauge monofilament sutures in the kitchen cabinet," he snapped, his voice cracking with sudden panic. He grabbed his car keys and his and your jacket from the hook by the door. "If I try to patch this up with what I have here, you’re going to end up with a massive scar on your face. We’re going to the hospital. Now."
The drive was quiet. He kept his hand firmly on the steering wheel, his eyes locked on the road, while you sat in the passenger seat, pressing the now heavy gauze to your face.
You looked over at his profile, his jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle was jumping in his cheek.
"Jack," you whispered, the movement pulling painfully at the cut. "I'm sorry."
He didn't look at you, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Just keep pressure on the wound, please. We're almost there."
-
The doors of The Pitt hissed open, swallowing you both into the familiar air of the emergency department.
Tonight, you were the intake.
"Jack? What the hell happened?"
Robby said from behind the central desk, his eyes darting instantly from Jack’s tense face down to you. He saw the blood soaked gauze you were holding tightly against your cheek and the dark stain on your collar.
"She took a fall on the stairs," Jack said, sounding entirely professional, though the tight grip he kept on your elbow betrayed him. "Laceration to the zygomatic arch. It’s deep. It’s been bleeding consistently for minutes. I couldn’t get it to clot at home."
"Alright, let's get her into Room 4, it's empty," Robby said, immediately stepping into gear, stepping beside you. "Can you walk okay? Did you hit your head? Lose consciousness?"
"My knee is a little banged up, but my head is fine," you muttered around the cloth, feeling a flush of embarrassment as a couple of nurses glanced your way. "Just... really clumsy."
Robby guided you onto the examination bed. "Let’s take a look."
You layed down and slowly pulled the gauzes away. Without the constant pressure, a fresh bead of dark blood immediately welled up. Robby leaned in, using a piece of sterile gauze to gently dab the edges of the wound. He winced slightly, assessing the deep split over the bone.
"Yeah, you really did a number on this," Robby murmured. "It’s a clean tear but it’s deep. It’s definitely going to need a few sutures. I'll get the lidocaine and—"
"I'll do it," Jack interrupted.
Robby paused, looking up at Jack, who was standing at the foot of the bed.
"Brother, you know the protocol," Robby said softly. "You don't treat family. Let me handle it. I'll make the lines clean, I promise."
"It’s my wife, Robby." Jack said, he stepped closer to the bedside, his eyes locked on the wound. "I’m doing the stitches. I need to do them."
The two doctors locked eyes for a long moment. Robby knew Jack, he knew his friend's frustrations, he knew how much Jack hated feeling helpless.
Letting Jack treat you wasn't standard, but Robby knew that forcing Jack to stand by and watch someone else patch you up would be worse.
Robby sighed, stepping back. "Fine. But I'm staying in the room to assist. And if your hands shake even a millimeter, I'm taking the needle."
"They won't shake," Jack said.
He moved to the side of the bed, carefully adjusting the stool so his rigid leg could extend comfortably.
Jack snap on a pair of sterile gloves, and when he pulled the tray of instruments closer, where a nurse put all the necessary.
"Look at me," Jack murmured softly. He picked up the syringe of lidocaine. "This is going to burn. A lot. Hold my knee if you need to. My good one."
You reached out, gripping his good knee tightly. He didn't flinch as your fingernails dug into his skin. "Okay, you're going to feel a little pinch."
The needle pierced the edge of the cut, and a sharp burning sensation flared across your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut, gasping as the medicine flooded the tissue. Jack’s was completely steady as he repositioned the needle to numb the entire perimeter of the wound.
Within a minute, the burning subsided into a heavy weight.
Jack worked in absolute silence. He used a small suction tip to clear the pooling blood, exposing the deep layer of tissue beneath. With a needle driver, he began the meticulous process of closing the deep dermal layer first.
You only could feel the gentle tugging of the thread as he pulled the edges of your skin back together. You watched his face. His brow was furrowed, his eyes entirely locked on the millimeters of flesh he was mending. The anger from the stairwell was gone, completely replaced by an aching tenderness.
Every movement of his hands was incredibly precise, deliberate, and gentle.
Robby stood by, cutting the sutures as Jack tied off each knot. "Nice tension," Robby commented quietly, validating his friend's work. "That's going to heal beautifully."
Jack didn't reply. He just kept sewing, treating your face like the most fragile and precious thing in the world.
By the time he tied off the final knot, the wound was closed, reduced to a thin black line across your cheekbone.
Before Jack could even reach for the dressing supplies, Robby quietly stepped into his line of sight, a non adherent telfa pad and a strip of medical tape already in his gloved hands. "I've got the dressing, Jack. Step back for a second."
Jack blinked, the sharp medical tunnel vision breaking as he looked up at his friend.
He didn't argue.
His hands were just starting to develop a microscopic tremor from the adrenaline crash, and he knew it.
Robby offered you a warm smile as he leaned over the bed. He placed the small protective gauze pad directly over the neat row of black stitches, securing it firmly to your cheek with the clear tape. "There you go. That’ll keep it clean and protected. Excellent handiwork, by the way. You won't even be able to see the scar in a few months."
Jack dropped the instruments onto the tray. He pulled off his gloves, tossing them into the bin, and took a deep breath.
"All done, baby," he said softly. "You're okay."
"Thank you," you murmured, with an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.
The ride back home was calm. The dashboard clock glowed a late hour as Jack pulled the car into the driveway and cut the engine.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
"Let's get you inside," Jack said softly. He had the night off.
He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door and offered you his hand. As you stood up, your leg wobbled, and Jack immediately caught you. He held you close, bearing your weight as he carefully guided you into the house.
He led you straight to the living room, easing you down onto the couch. He disappeared for a few minutes, and when he returned, he was carrying a plush blanket, a fresh ice pack, and a glass of water.
He carefully lowered his weight onto the couch beside you and draped the blanket over your lap, then gently held the ice pack against your bruised knee.
Looking at him, seeing the dark circles of exhaustion, the faint smear of dried blood on his forearm that he hadn't fully washed off, and his unconditional care, the dam broke.
Tears slipped down your cheeks.
"Hey," Jack murmured, his brow furrowing as he set the ice pack down and instantly reached for your face. "Hey, what’s wrong? Is the local anesthetic wearing off? Is it hurting?"
"No," you choked out, your voice thick and trembling. You shook your head, immediately regretting it as the movement pulled at the tight stitches. "No, it doesn't hurt. Jack, I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, you don't need to-"
"I do," you interrupted, a sob catching in your throat. You reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. "I'm so, so sorry. I know I make a joke out of being clumsy, but I hate that I frightened you. I hate that I made you feel... helpless. I know how much you want to protect me, and I was careless. I didn't think about how it would affect you to hear me fall and not be able to just run down there. I'm so sorry for being reckless with myself."
Jack stared at you, his eyes softening.
He reached out, his thumb gently catching the tears on your cheek, careful not to touch your wound. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne.
"Thank you for being honest with me" Jack whispered into your hair, his hand gently stroking your back. "But you don't have to carry that guilt. I was angry because I was terrified. When I'm at work, I can control things. I have a team. But when it’s you... here... Seeing you hurt, and knowing my own body slows me down from getting to you... it scares me, baby."
He pulled back to look into your eyes.
"I know accidents happen," he said softly. "But I just need you to take care of yourself, because you are the most precious thing in my life. Okay?"
"Okay," you sniffled, wiping your nose with the edge of the blanket. "No more running on the stairs. I promise. I'll take them like a snail."
A smirk broke across Jack’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It was the first time he had smiled all night. "A snail might be a bit too slow, but I'll take it."
He leaned in, carefully placing a kiss on the uninjured side of your face, then another on the tip of your nose. "I love you, doll."
"I love you, my Jackie."
"Lay back, you need rest," he commanded gently, helping you settle on the couch. He placed the ice pack back on your knee and tucked the blanket securely around you. He picked up the TV remote and settled back against the cushions next to you.
As the soft sounds of a night time program filled the air, Jack's fingers gently stroked your head, lulling you to relax and close your eyes.
After a few seconds, you drifted off to sleep, feeling completely safe and secure in the tranquility of home.
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?”
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“You know I think about you all the time, and my deep misunderstanding of your life. And how bad it must have been for you back then, and how hard it is to keep it all inside.”
Ten months after Langdon’s addiction and drug abuse was exposed, he’s returned to the Pitt to face the consequences. After a rocky divorce and too many severed ties to stomach, he’s in desperate need of a friend. He’d love that person to be you. But after blowing the friendship up the night of PittFest, would you want the same? Either way, he has to find out.
11. The Cure
“My head is full of poison and my heart is full of doubt. I’ve got toxins in my veins you tried hard to suck out. And it feels like medication, and it’s good for me, I’m sure. But it don’t matter how your love feels anymore. It’ll never be the cure.”
You can find the masterlist to this ongoing series here.
This is canon divergent from season 2, aspects will be kept and referenced, but this is largely set in a fictitious season 2.5 or so. Keep that in mind if you notice differences!
If you see a typo, no you don’t. Please pretend it’s not there, I’m not going back to find and fix it. Your girl is too tired.
Comment or message me if you want to join the taglist :)
☄︎ Warnings: semi-public (restaurant). jealously-ish. porn WITH plot (lots of yappin to scene set). reader x allie being scissor sisters. squirting. smut. i read this back too many times that i couldn’t proofread, so expect mistakes.
☄︎ Pairing: Allie Hayes x F!Reader x Dean Di Laurentis
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 3279
☄︎ Summary: You've been in your throuple with Allie and Dean for three weeks when a handsome stranger hits on you in the bar.
💭: my babies + reader was so popular that we're back again for round 2. if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Read the original requests here. 〣 Find my Off Campus Masterlist here. Read PT1 here.
You were three weeks into this. Three weeks since whatever walls you had built to protect your heart from the hurt had come tumbling down.
In some ways, it was the easiest transition of your life. When you were ‘just’ their ‘friend’, you spent so much time with them, with so much of your daily lives already so intertwined, that your usual routine barely changed.
But, in other ways, it was the most disorientating transition of your life. The deeply embedded envy that used to make your chest feel hollow when you were around them was replaced by something so thick, something so intensely imitate, it left you so breathless you could hardly see straight.
Between your collective college classes, Dean’s demanding hockey schedule, Allie’s theatre rehearsals, and the exhaustion of navigating this newfound passion, the three of you had barely found a moment to breathe... let alone go out on a proper date.
Dean had been adamant about changing that. He demanded a real celebration.
Which was how you found yourself tucked into a plush leather booth in one of the finest restaurants in the city. Every where you turned was wealth and sophistication. The walls were a deep, rich, chocolate brown. On them, was fine art that looked like it cost more than your tuition. The melodic sound of a piano being played floated through the air, just loud enough to mask the low murmur of wealthy conversations around you.
You almost felt out of place being in a restaurant so luxurious, but, tucked into the booth with Dean and Allie by your side, you had never fit anywhere so perfectly in your life.
Allie was a vision next to you, wearing a long, classy but revealing dress with a slit on the side. You could feel the head of her bare leg pressed flush against yours beneath the table, hidden by the tablecloth.
Directly across from her sat Dean. He looked unnecessarily handsome, the top few buttons of his dress shirt left undone. He didn’t even look at the menu to order, instead keeping his eyes on you and Allie.
“I’ll grab the next round,” you volunteered after the waiter cleared the dinner plates, offering them both a bright smile.
Allie shifted her legs slightly to let you slide out of the booth. “Hurry back, babe,” she murmured. “We miss you when you’re not here.”
You felt a giddy thrill run through you, making your skin tingle as you slid completely out of the booth. New relationship bliss was probably your favourite feeling in the world.
Reaching down, you pulled at the hem of the dress that Allie had spent hours helping you pick out for this occasion. It was short, silk against your skin, and hugging your curves in all the right places.
The bar area was a bit more crowded than the main dining area, but you could still see the booth where the three of you were sat from here. Looking back, you watched as Dean gently tucked a piece of hair behind Allie’s ear, their heads tilted close as they whispered across the table.
You were so busy watching them that you hadn’t noticed when a guy moved to stand next to you. He leant back against the bar, swirling his glass of what you assumed to be bourbon. He was undeniably attractive, and his lazily confident posture screamed ‘man with money’.
“A lady as stunning as you should not be waiting for her own drink,” he smooth-talked, tilting his head with an appreciative glint in his eyes. His voice sounded as expensive as he looked, and, had you not been in a committed relationship, you may have even bit.
But you were. So instead, you just laughed. The sound was light, the deliriousness from the excitement of the night and the few drinks you’d had coming through. Honestly, after weeks of hiding your feelings and feeling invisible, it just felt good to be noticed so openly.
“I appreciate the chivalry,” you replied, turning your body slightly towards him. “But I promise I’m tougher than I look. I can handle a busy bar.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second,” he chuckled, sliding a step closer. He raised a hand, immediately catching the attention of the bartender, he was obviously a regular. “But it’d be a crime if I didn’t try. I’m Nathan, what’s your name?”
Before you could answer, the bartender slid over. “What can I get for you?”
“Can I please have two margaritas and a lemonade, thanks!” You ordered cheerfully, before turning back to Nathan. “I’m actually here celebrating tonight.”
“Celebrating what?” Nathan asked. His eyes lingered on your lips, completely missing (or deliberately ignoring) the fact that you had ordered multiple drinks. His gaze slowly trailed the length of your dress before looking back up at. “An anniversary? A promotion? Or just the fact that you look absolutely incredible in that dress.”
You threw your head back, laughing softly at his boldness. “Just a good night out with... the people closest to me,” you said, pointing over to Dean and Allie.
Both you and Nathan looked over at them, your heart racing as you saw that they were no longer whispering to each other. Their eyes were locked on to you and Nathan from across the room. Dean’s jaw was tight, and Allie’s arms were crossed over her chest.
“People... but not a boyfriend?” Nathan asked, ignoring the reactions from the booth, just as the bartender set the drinks down.
You didn’t give him an answer, focusing all your attention on balancing the drinks together in your hands. As you carefully walked away, you added, “It was nice meeting you, Nathan!”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied.
You carefully set the three glasses down on the table, pretending like you didn’t notice how squared Dean’s shoulders were or how Allie watched you through narrowed eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked once you’d settled back into the booth.
“Oh, come on! That was nothing,” you shrugged, trying to dismiss it as you pushed his class of lemonade over to him. “He was just being polite while I waited for the bartender.”
Allie didn’t even touch her margarita. She placed her hand on your thigh as she turned her body towards you. “He looked like he wanted to eat you alive, babe.” Her tone was deceptively sweet, but it was laced with a possessive edge. “And you were laughing.”
“I was just being polite, Al,” you whispered, looking between the two of them.
“I don’t like it when you’re polite,” Dean muttered.
“Yeah, I second that,” Allie added, her thumb pressing harder into your skin.
Before you could even attempt to defend yourself, the waiter reappeared. He was carrying a glass with a bright yellow liquid inside, placing it down in front of you with a soft clink.
“Compliments of the gentleman at the bar,” the waiter said, offering a professional smile as he discreetly pointed back towards the counter where Nathan was still standing. He then slid a white linen napkin across the table and left.
Written across it was a message: for you, love. i recommend the piña colada. it’s just as sweet as you look tonight. A phone number was scribbled at the bottom.
Your eyes went wide, breath catching sharply in your throat. “Oh my god.”
Dean’s hand shot across the table and snatched the napkin. He immediately started ripping at it. He looked disgusted as he balled up the shredded pieces and dropped them into his glass of water.
“Why the hell is he sending you drinks?” Allie seethed, her hand on your thigh tightening. “I thought he was just ‘being polite’?”
“Did you not tell him you were with us?” Dean leant forward over the table, his chest pressing against the edge, burning you with his gaze.
“Well... I said I was celebrating with... people-.”
“So,” Dean interrupted, “you didn’t tell him you were with-with us?”
“Well, no... Dean, it’s not the most natural thing to say to a stranger at a bar, is it?” You hissed back in a harsh whisper. “Hey, I’m here with my boyfriend AND my girlfriend and we’re celebrating our throuple.’’’
“Sounds completely natural to me,” Allie said, before turning her head to look across the table. “Right, babe?”
“Completely,” Dean agreed instantly.
“I guess we’ll just have to show him that you’re taken,” Allie added.
The two of them were a pair of opposites. While Dean’s expression had grown darker, more intense, Allie maintained her perfectly composed sweet smile, when she was thinking anything but sweetness. You didn’t know who to focus on; the two of them together were unpredictable.
Reaching out, Dean’s hand wrapped around the drink that Nathan had brought for you. He leant back against the cushion, his gaze locked on to Nathan from across the room. He took a deliberate sip, Adam’s apple dramatically bobbing as he swallowed hard. He raised the glass slightly, tipping it an inch towards Nathan in a mocking toast.
“Dean–.”
The name slipped out of your mouth as barely a breath. Underneath the heavy tablecloth, Allie’s hand was slowly sliding up your thigh, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. She angled her body toward you, using her shoulder to, mostly, blck the view of her arm from the rest of the restaurant.
“Allie,” you whimpered quietly, your breath catching as her fingers began to trail the length of your folds right through the thin material of your underwear.
“Be natural, babe. Keep your eyes on Dean,” Allie murmured, her voice the definition of sweetness even as the pressure of her fingers increased.
Your heart hammered violently against your ribs as you looked at Dean, desperately trying to not look as undone as you felt. Slouching down slightly in the booth, your legs parted naturally, giving Allie more access. you bit your lower lip hard, almost drawing blood, as her finger slipped past the lace of your panties, finding you slicker than you should be in a crowed, public, restaurant.
She played with your arousal, coating her fingers with it, before finding your clit and pressing down on it. “Don’t worry, babe. Nobody but Dean is watching.”
Across the table, Dean watched the subtle movement of Allie’s arm before his eyes flicked up to you, looking just in time to see your face break. He watched your eyelids frow heavy and hooded and your lips parted in a silent plea, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He was getting hard just watching Allie pleasure you under the table, watching the way you tried so desperately to be discreet as you squirmed under her touch.
Dean leant forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Shhhh,” he murmured, “Somebody’s going to hear you.”
Just then, Allie pushed the lace aside. She slid a wet finger deep inside you, curving it upward to press hard against your soft walls. Your head rolled weakly against the backrest of the booth as her finger moved back over your clit, driving you closer to an edge you couldn’t possibly go over in public.
“Dean,” you choked out, your hips helplessly twitching against Allie’s hand. “Please, I can’t.”
“Fuck,” Dean responded, voice dangerously low. “Okay, we need to go. Right now.”
Allie immediately pulled her finger from your underwear and turned to glance toward the bar. Nathan was still looking over; his eyes fixated on your side of the booth. She gave him a triumphant look as she popped her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking on them clean and shooting him a wink.
Dean quickly got out of the booth, walking with a slight limp as he made his way to the front of the restaurant to pay the bill.
In the booth, Allie waited a moment for you to gather yourself and pull back down the hem of your dress before getting out and reaching back to take your hand into hers.
The night was cool as it hit your face as you exited the restaurant, but it did nothing against the heat spreading through your body.
Nobody spoke as you hurried towards the car. Dean reached it first, yanking open the back door for you and Allie to climb in. The moment you were both in, he slammed the door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side. He threw the car into drive, the tires making a faint screech as he zoomed out of the parking lot.
The moment the car cleared the street, Allie lunged across the backseat at you. Her body collied with yours, and you both let out breathless giggles as Dean made an aggressive turn that had you falling over each other.
Then, Allie’s mouth found yours in a frantic kiss. She kissed you like she had something to prove. Your hands instantly flew to tangle in her hair, fingers gripping the soft strands to pull her close. she kissed you until your chest heaved, her mouth sliding down to bury into the crook of your neck.
In the front seat, Dean’s knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the steering wheel. He tried to keep his eyes solely on the road but couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the rearview mirror, watching you and Allie’s hands all over each other. The sight of you two, lost in the heat of the moment, made him push down on the accelerator, pushing to the speed limit.
The car had barely come to a stop before the doors flew open, the three of you desperate to get out. Allie reached for your hand again, her grip tight as she practically dragged you out of the back seat. Dean was already a step ahead, the keys jingling in his hand as he sprinted up the porch steps to shove the door open.
Tucker and Logan were splayed out on the living room sofa; a video game controller in Logan’s hand.
They both blinked, looking up in surprise as the three of you moved through the foyer looking slightly dishevelled, and kicking off your shoes.
“Oh, hey,” Logan called out, pausing the game. “You guys are back early. How was the restaurant?”
Allie didn’t even bother to answer as she pulled you up the stairs.
“Mhm, great,” Dean grunted, following closely behind you both.
“Try to keep it down up there!” Tucker shouted up the banister on a laugh.
An instant later, the muffled sound of the video game that they were playing spiked in volume. The sound blaring through the floorboards as Tucker and Logan turned up the game to protect their ears.
Dean didn’t bother to close the door as he moved to help Allie pull off your dress. For how tight it was, it dropped from your body easily.
Just as easily, Allie unclipped your bra and pulled it off. Dean was immediately on you then, hands caressing your tits as Allie undressed.
Once undressed, she crawled onto the bed and spread her legs. You and Dean watched as she touched herself, hands running down her body and dipping between her legs. She got herself real worked up. From where you both were watching, you could see her pussy glistening with her arousal.
“Please~,” she whined, hips rocking as she circled her clit faster. “I need– someone–.”
“You go,” Dean whispered, gently pushing you towards the bed.
You should have felt embarrassed by how fast you clambered towards the bed, crawling over her leg until you were at her waist. with one leg swung over her hip, you lined your pussy up with hers before pressing down into her.
You didn’t immediately find her clit, but your hole clenched as your slick folds slid over hers. She reached down to part herself with two fingers, exposing her clit.
Shifting your hips, you moved until you found the perfect angle that had your clits brushing against each other.
“Shit,” Allie breathed, her head lolling back.
Hooking one of her legs over your shoulder, you held on to that as you pressed your soaking pussy onto hers with more pressure. Your moans mixed at every grind of your hips, your clits sliding against one another’s creating a delicious friction.
“Thaaaaat’s it, baby,” you moaned as she bucked her hips up into you.
Beside the bed, Dean was sitting on the chair, cock thick and twitching in his hand as he jerked off to the sight of you rolling your hips down into Allie. The pleasure built with each movement of your hips, your soaked, aching, clits pressed tightly against each other.
The room is filled with the wet sound of your pussies rubbing together, of your hips snapping against hers. Dean’s grunts were dwarfed by the sound of you & Allie’s gasps.
“You’re so beautiful, babe.” Allie was looking up at you, eyes lustful but so sincere. It made more heat pool in your belly.
“I love you, Al,” you stuttered into her ankle. You rolled your hips tighter now, circling her clit with yours.
“I’m going to cum,” she told you, “I’m going to make a mess all over your pussy.”
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” you rasped.
The pressure on Allie’s clit started to overwhelm her but her hips kept pushing up to meet yours. With one strong grind of your hips, the feeling pushed her over the edge. She screamed your name as she squirted into your pussy, warm, clear, liquid pooling between your bodies.
You felt her twitch and clench beneath you, the feeling sending you into overdrive. As she came down from her high, your hips sped up, desperately chasing your own release. But Allie grabbed at your hips, holding you still against her.
“Babe, lie back,” Allie said, voice still breathless, “I want to watch Dean fuck you.”
You nodded and looked over at Dean, who was already getting up and making his way to the bed. Allie shifted back slightly, propping herself up against the pillows. You settled between her spread legs; the back of your shoulders pressed against her stomach.
She hooked her legs over your thighs, spreading you wider for Dean who lined himself up.
“I won’t last long,” he warned as you felt him nudging at your entrance.
He sunk into you as slow as he could manage, your pussy so slick it made a squelching sound.
Allie couldn’t take her eyes off of the way your pussy swallowed him up, even she squeezed and rolled your nipples between her fingers.
“Please, I need to cum,” you begged. The fact that you hadn’t cum yet definitely felt like punishment from what happened at the restaurant.
“Okay, baby girl.” Allie reached down, her fingers immediately applying pressure to your clit.
At the same time, Dean thrust into you at a quicker pace. He wasn’t gentle either, each thrust pushed him deeper into you.
“Fuck, I’m already going to cum,” he grunted, brow furrowed.
He thrusted into you three more times before he filled you up with his release. His warm cum mixing with the remnants of Allie’s release.
Allie’s hands moved back to your nipples as Dean’s finger flicked over your clit. It wasn’t long before your back was aching up, body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Dean collapsed onto you, pinning you between his and Allie’s warmth. You could feel the mixture of releases dripping down you, settling onto the duvet. The three of you settled into a comfortable silence as you laid there in your own messes.
“Dude,” Tucker shouted, interrupting the peace, “close your fucking door!”
A/n: literally a total of 4 texts (two at the top two and the bottom) most of this is written and a little moment between dennis nd reader!!
The emergency department doors slid open with their familiar hiss, closing just as quickly behind the boy you’ve learned to— appreciate.
You’d been Robby's daughter long enough to recognize the rhythm of shift change.
Residents shuffled toward their cars with backpacks slung over one shoulder, nurses sighing about something that had happened just before clocking out, a worry for the next day, and every so often someone honked to say bye to a co-worker who was also heading home.
Your gaze drifted toward the entrance again.
Dennis looked exactly how you imagined someone should after a twelve hour shift.
His black scrub top had bunched up beneath the straps of his backpack, the sleeves pushed to his forearms from earlier in the day. The shift had essentially become his workout, his sleeves stretched just enough around his arms to make you stare a second longer than you probably should’ve.
His curls were combed out in odd places, like he’d run his hands through them one too many times, and his eye bags were even darker than when he started his day.
He looked tired. And you felt a little ashamed of how hard you thought about “other things” when he looked so exhausted.
The kind of exhaustion that only came from spending all day taking care of everyone except yourself. You would know, spending 10 hours at a time not worried about a lunch break because there’s a puppy who only eats from your hand, and you know no one else would take the time to really give him the care he needed.
Dennis looked up, and you suppress a giggle, your brain comparing him to that same puppy.
The second his eyes landed on you, something changed.
Just enough that the tension left his shoulders and his backpack lowered with it, the tiredness in his face softened beneath an unmistakable smile.
“Hi.”
You smiled before you even realized you were doing it. Maybe waiting those extra twenty minutes parked down the street so your dad wouldn’t notice were worth it, big time
“I was starting to think one of the fireworks might’ve blown you up in there.”
“It tried.”
His laugh came out quieter than usual, rough around the edges from a full day of talking and reassuring patients that they could in fact— leave with their fingers re-attached. He let his backpack fall to the pavement beside him with a dull thud before stretching, one hand disappearing behind his neck as he rolled the stiffness from his shoulders.
You winced.
“…That bad?” Yours was pretty bad too, and you’re sure you reek of burnt hair and…well, animal.
“I’ve forgotten what sitting feels like.”
“Good thing we’re about to spend two hours in a car. I’ve even got the heated seats, big money.” he laughs a bit.
“I honestly think that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned and reached through the passenger window for the red bull you’d bought on the way over.
“I had a feeling you’d need this.”
Dennis stared at the can for a second before taking it from your hand.
“You might actually be my favorite person.”
“I would’ve been offended if a red bull beat me.”
“I don’t know…” He glanced down at the can dramatically. “It’s close.”
“You know those are bad for you right? Thought you were a doctor”
“So is literally talking to you knowing who your father is.”
“Touché”
He shoved his thumb under the tab, pulling it back, the sound of the can cracking open was oddly satisfying. He smiled into the top before taking a sip, closing his eyes for a brief second.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Better?”
“So much.”
The warm July air settled comfortably around the two of you, carrying the distant smell of charcoal and someone’s backyard barbecue from somewhere beyond the hospital. Every now and then the automatic doors slid open behind Dennis, releasing another wave of gross antiseptic-scented air before closing again.
It mixed strangely with the scent clinging to him. Something unmistakably Dennis.
His attention drifted back to you.
Only then did you notice he wasn’t looking at your face anymore.
His eyes lingered for a second on the glitter on your cheeks before dropping to your scrub top, a pattern of weiner dogs in hotdog buns with fireworks all over it .
A nervous laugh escaped him.
“Wow.”
Immediately, your eyes followed his.
“What? Am I turning you off or do you have a raging boner?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks beginning to color.
“Nothing.”
“Denny.”
“No, I just…”
He laughed at himself before trying again.
“You know that Jennifer Coolidge quote?”
Your grin widened immediately.
“‘You look like the Fourth of July. Makes me want a hot dog real bad’?” You do your best Jennifer voice, it sucks by the way.
Relief washed over his face.
“Okay, thank God.”
“You really thought I wasn’t gonna get a Legally Blonde reference?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“I’ve seen it, like, twenty times, Robby hates it.”
“That makes this significantly less embarrassing.”
“It was already embarrassing.”
“I know.”
You folded your arms, waiting patiently.
“…Well?”
He looked at you again.
Really looked at you and his ears turned pink.
“You just…” He smiled sheepishly. “…You look like the Fourth of July.”
You couldn’t help laughing.
“Does that make you want a hot dog real bad?”
Dennis groaned, covering his face with one hand.
“I walked right into that.”
“You absolutely did. They’ve got hotdogs at the drive in theater, nachos too, but I did buy snacks”
“You didn’t have to do that, you worked just as much as me today.”
“I know.”
The words settled between the two of you, quieter than everything else around you.
Dennis’s smile lingered, but it changed. It wasn’t the same sheepish grin that had followed after nearly embarrassing himself for the fifth time that evening. This one was smaller. Softer.
He looked at you like he’d finally run out of reasons not to.
You weren’t sure who closed the distance first..
Maybe it was you, unconsciously leaning toward him the same way you always found yourself doing whenever he spoke. Like he constantly had you under a weird-ass hypnotic spell.
Either way, there was suddenly barely enough room between the two of you for the warm July air to pass through.
His red bull rested forgotten on the roof of your car.
“…You smell faintly like mint and dog.”
You barked out a laugh, ducking your head.
“Kennel-sol. I just worked ten hours. It’s a half-ass attempt of trying to smell like i took a shower”
“I get it.”
“You’ve got glitter.”
You frowned.
“I dressed up for work today and you’re the only one who noticed the glitter… Do I smell bad? seriously, I’ve got clothes in my tr-”
“No.”
“Then what do I smell like?”
He looked back up at you.
“You.”
Your heart did something incredibly embarrassing and inconvenient, but you can’t let him know that.
“You are so bad at flirting.”
“Damn.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Somehow…it’s working.”
He smiled.
“I was kinda hoping it was.”
For a second, neither of you moved.
A warm breeze lifted a few curls away from his forehead before they settled back into place.
Dennis’s eyes searched yours for a moment before dropping, almost absentmindedly, to your lips.
When he looked back up, he let out the smallest, most nervous laugh.
“I’ve been trying not to do that since I walked outside.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Do what?”
You didn’t notice, so, he didn’t answer.
Instead, one hand found your waist with a hesitancy that made you smile.
You slid your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers disappearing into the curls at the nape that had escaped him sometime during his shift.
“They’re so soft,” you murmured before you could stop yourself.
He laughed.
“Focus,” you laughed “We’re trying to be romantic”
“You focus.” he quipped back
“I’m trying.”
“No, you’re giggling.”
“And you’re blushing.” Arguing like a love-drunk couple already.
“I’ve been outside for five minutes and it’s hot”
“Dennis.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile that never quite reached teasing territory.
“I’m choosing to ignore that observation.”
He looked at you for another heartbeat, like he was giving you every opportunity to change your mind.
You didn’t.
Instead, you moved just enough to meet him halfway.
His lips found yours slowly, almost cautiously at first, and for someone who talked as much as he did when he was nervous, he kissed with surprising confidence. Warm and unhurried, one hand settling a little more firmly against your waist as he smiled into it after only a few seconds.
You smiled right back.
When you finally pulled away, it wasn’t because either of you wanted to. It was because you were both smiling too hard to keep kissing.
You laughed, and he couldn’t help but to follow
“I’m so fucked, that- this is it for me. Your dad might actually kill me”
“Dennis?” You can’t even pay attention to his rambling.
“You’ve got glitter too.”
His hand immediately went to his face to rub at his cheek, bringing his hand to eye level to see the sparse red, silver, and blue glitter on his fingertips.
“Oh my God.”
You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek and the faint mark the N95 mask had left across the bridge of his nose.
“I think I like you speechless.” You tease.
“I don’t.”
“No?”
“No.”
He leaned in, stealing one more quick kiss.
“I like you kissing me a lot better.”
You laughed, nudging his chest.
“Oh, so now you wanna have game?”
“I had one good line.”
“It wasn’t even a line. It was a Jennifer Coolidge quote!”
“I know.”
He sighed dramatically.
“That was like..so dreamy, I feel like a teenage girl”
“Grown man by the way”
A loud pop goes off that makes you both jump and your hearts drop to your ass. A split second later you hear a car alarm start blaring, and then another. Both of you scramble to grab your things
“Let’s go before we get called in”
He reached down, picking up his backpack with one hand before opening your passenger door with the other. He quickly confesses in the panic
“I didn’t wanna kiss you at the theater, that's too cliche, glad I got my kiss now.”
“It won’t be the last kiss, you know, you can still kiss me at the theater”
“Absolutely not. I’m ruined now”
You rolled your eyes, trying—and failing—to hide your smile as you climbed into the driver’s seat.
You whine at his slowness, fuck that shift. “Hurry, we’re gonna miss all the trailers for the upcoming movies!”
By the time Dennis settled into the passenger seat beside you, still smelling faintly of hospital soap and slightly burnt paper, you realized the movie had somehow become the least exciting part of the night.
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cw: mentions of food, reader HATES robby, reader has a little accident so mention of needles and blood! part written portion!
summary: you are samira’s roommate and a baker! what happens when you start to fall for her married bosses jack abbot and michael robinavitch?
part three: apple pie
- -
reader’s pov:
robby’s pov:
your pov + written portion below:
PTMC is overwhelming as soon as you step inside- the bright lights, loud coughs, and general chatter grating on your already frayed nerves. Though you try to hide it, the pulsing wound spread across your palm in a clean cut has rattled you more than you’d like to admit. There was just so much blood so quickly, and the bright red spilling over your skin momentarily paralyzed you. When you finally came to your senses you were able to grab a towel and apply pressure directly to the cut, as Samira has told you many times before. Still, the blood seeping through the cloth alarmed you.
With one hand occupied, you quickly scooped up your phone and purse, frantically making your way down to the bus stop while trying to text your roommate. You really hoped she’d see the texts and be ready to meet you at the entrance of the Pitt, but you had no luck. Based on the crowd in the waiting room, you knew she was busy.
After speaking to the nice lady at the front desk, who you’re pretty sure is named Lupe, you take a seat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, grimacing as another wave of pain throbs beneath your skin. You tap your foot anxiously against the linoleum floors, eyes darting around the chaos of the hospital waiting room. The hospital is surely no one’s favorite place, but you especially hate it, the sickness and misery in the room setting you on edge.
As time ticks by, you rest your head in your free hand and close your eyes, attempting to take deep breaths through your nose to stay calm. It’s only as your eyes begin to grow heavy that you feel a tap on your shoulder. You jolt up, expecting to see Samira or maybe Trinity in front of you- a beacon of light in this dismal place. Instead, you see the one person that could possibly make this whole trip worse- Michael Robinavitch.
Fucking Dr. Robby.
His brown eyes dart over you assessingly, as clinical and professional as a doctor’s gaze should be, but it still makes your skin crawl.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks, concern lacing his gravelly tone.
You want to roll your eyes. Instead you hold up your hand wrapped in the towel, “cut myself at work.”
The brunette grimaces apologetically, “come on, I’ll take you back and give it a look.”
You stand up and follow behind him begrudgingly, “can I see Samira-“
Robby looks over his shoulder at you, “she’s busy in a trauma right now. Anyways, it’s ill-advised for doctors to practice on family and friends. I’ll take care of you.”
You’d rather literally anyone else, even the janitor, be your doctor, but you know you can’t wait around forever on your hand. You let the man lead you to a bed in the back, a little more quiet, and close the curtain with a whoosh.
You get settled on the bed eyeing Robby suspiciously as he sits on the stool and scoots up to the beside.
“Let’s have a look.”
You lift the towel from your hand and a faint line of blood bubbles up, but it doesn’t continue to spill out like it did before.
“Geez, that’s a pretty big cut. What happened here?” he asks, tracing his gloved thumb over the wound, examining it.
“I was making apple pie for Jac- I mean Dr. Abbot. He said it was his favorite and I wanted to think him for the cupcake order.”
You think Robby will look more annoyed since it was, technically, his idea to get the cupcakes and yet he wasn’t getting a special treat. Instead, an annoying little smirk graces his face as he looks up at you.
“What?”
“Apple pie isn’t Jack’s favorite, it’s mine.”
You curse under your breath. The last thing you wanted to do is do something nice for Robby. The brunette pushes a little harder on your cut and you yelp, yanking your hand back.
“Well, you’re going to have to wait a little longer for your pie, because the current one is a little bloodier than I usually make them.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmurs teasingly as he turns towards the drawers to pull out a suture kit.
“Don’t call-“
Dr. Robinavitch turns back towards you with a big grin, “you really don’t like me, do you?”
You simply scoff, averting your gaze as Robby prepares to inject the syringe with lidocaine at the wound site. He, at least, doesn’t say anything more, instead sewing your stitches methodically in silence. If he weren’t holding a needle going in and out of your hand, you’d be tempted to spit something snarky out.
You fixate on the pattern of the room’s curtain until Robby gives an “all done,” standing up and discarding his gloves. He squirts a generous glob of hand sanitizer onto his hands as he looks over you once more.
“I’ll have a nurse come in to issue your discharge papers. Come back in a few days to get your stitches removed….and, I believe, to give me an apple pie.”
He smirks at your bitter expression as he disappears behind the curtain.
summary: when you get home from work one day, you find a cat outside your and jack’s apartment. he’s reluctant to take it in, but maybe you can convince him…
pairing: jack abbot x reader
warnings: homeless cat :( (that is given a home shhhh), takes place during winter/holiday season (i love winter okay don’t judge), nothing serious! just light fluff and petnames
a/n: IM SORRY i know i said i wasn’t writing for shawn characters anymore but this was in my drafts and i couldn’t help but finish it 😓 i hope you guys don’t hate me too much for coming back haha, enjoy! title from hello kitty kat by the smashing pumpkins
when you left for work this morning, it was snowing, but not nearly as much as it is now that you’re walking to your car, about to go home.
you’re practically blown away by the wind the second you walk out of your office building, no doubt from the blizzard that started just a few hours ago, and you’re already ankle deep in snow as you get out onto the street.
just as you’re about to turn the corner and finally get to your area of the parking garage, you see it. a small cardboard box just… sitting against the concrete wall. and, over the sounds of the wind thrashing in your ears, you hear the tiniest little meow.
immediately, you run over to find a small orange kitten staring up at you from the box, looking like sunshine but shivering as it’s wriggled its way out of the blankets it was wrapped in.
“oh, oh no!” you gasp, kneeling down to get to the kitten’s level, seeing its obvious distress. “awh, poor baby…”
frowning, you lift it into your arms. it’s so tiny, you can tell barely a month old. you know you need to take it home, who else will take care of it?
“okay, you’re coming home with me, kitty!” you decide triumphantly. you start to carry it to your car, but then you remember your boyfriend, jack, isn’t as easy as you are. you have no idea how he’ll react, but you decide you’ll just see when you get home.
the sky is dark now as you step out of your car, and jack is surprisingly home for once, his lucky day off. you walk into the house and kick your shoes off, calling out, “love, i’m home!” and making no mention of the tiny bundle of fur in your arms.
“in here, babe!” jack calls out from the living room, where he usually waits for you to get home.
you walk into the room to greet him and he gets up from the couch to meet you in the middle, kissing your cheek before noticing the blankets you have balled up in your arms. “what’s this, honey?
“you have to promise you won’t get mad, okay?” you hold out your free hand for him, already intending to make him pinky promise.
apprehensively, he agrees, “alright, what is it?” wc stops here
you unwrap the blankets to reveal the small, auburn-colored kitten in your arms, already noticing the surprised look on his face. “you promised you wouldn’t get mad!”
“i’m not mad, im just…” he sighs, “love, what is this? where did it even come from?”
“i found her outside my office! in the parking garage, someone just left her there!” you look so sad when you say it, devastated by the idea that someone could do such a thing. “there’s a storm out there, jack! i couldn’t just let her freeze! she looked so cold, oh, poor thing…” you coo at her while she just stares up at you with wide eyes. you think she’s the most adorable thing.
jack thinks otherwise, though. “look, i get it, but we can’t keep it. you know that. with the holidays coming up and everything… do you even know how much it would cost to take it to the vet?” 
desperately, you answer, “i know! i’ll pay for it! i’ll get my bonus in a few weeks, you know i’ll pay it all back. please, jack, she needs a home. look how tiny she is!”
the kitten just stares up at him and gives a pathetic little meow, practically begging him to give in.
he sighs again and rubs a hand over his face, “just… for now. we’ll take her in for a night or two and see how it goes.”
you squeal and hug him, “oh, thank you! i knew you’d give in, you’re the best! come on, i wanna give it a warm bath…”
he smiles softly and shakes his head, watching you run towards the bathroom, and follows you in there. he can’t deny you anything, really.
once the bath is done, jack presses you to get in yourself. “i know you’ve had a long day, love, and you were freezing when you walked in. the cat’s fine, its asleep in the living room.”
you frown, “i know, but i’m worried about it. what if it gets hurt while i’m in there?”
he gently wraps his arms around your waist, “i’ll watch over it. you just take care of yourself for now, alright?”
it doesn’t take long for you to give in, you’re exhausted. “alright, just… make sure the cat is fine.”
with a kiss on the cheek and an encouraging smile, he sends you off, “i will, i will. go shower, i promise it’s okay.”
an hour later, you return to the living room in a pair of his sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts from his military days; both of which are too big for you, but it’s not like you mind.
you’re surprised to find that he isn’t in there anymore, and you hear quiet murmuring from the kitchen instead.
following the sound, you walk in there to find him knelt down in the corner, feeding the kitten out of his hand and quietly cooing at it, “good girl! you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s good…”
you giggle and walk over to him, “are you playing, tough mr. abbot?” kneeling down next to him to watch the kitten eat.
jack shrugs, “not playing, just… y’know, she needed to be fed, so i ordered some food to the house.” but he’s petting her while he says it.
“i think we should name her paprika,” he muses, prompting you to laugh.
“paprika? why’s that?”
he’s still just watching her, “because of her color. it’s a cute name, i don’t know.”
you suddenly grin, realizing he’s already trying to name her. “oh, so we’re naming her now? does that mean we can keep her?”
“no, no, no. don’t start getting ideas. i just meant… if we were to keep her.” he’s defensive, but you can tell he’s really starting to consider it.
smiling, you kiss his cheek, “sure, sure. we’ll just see about that.” you let the cat settle into your lap, “i’m tired from work, honestly all i really want is to lay down on the couch… it’s not too bad if we just let her roam for a bit, right?”
he softens, “no, of course not. let’s go relax, she’ll be alright.”
with that, the two of you walk back to the couch, settling in with your head in his lap while he picks some shitty movie for you to watch. it’s not long until you drift off, exhausted from the day and the warmth of his skin on yours.
a few hours later, you wake again, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and murmuring, “sorry, babe, did i fall asleep on you…?”
there’s no answer, though. you open your eyes and look up at him to find him asleep as well, but now with the cat safely curled up against his arm. he fell asleep petting her.
you soften, realizing your boyfriend really is the sweetest. and the next morning, you’re not surprised when you see the collar and food bowls he ordered for her at the front door.
summary: it’s finally dennis’s birthday and reader is way too nervous to run into him. reader and dennis are being awfully awkward so trinity locks them in a room and forces them to talk…
contents: blackfemreader but anyone can read it of course! reader uses sheher pronouns. cursing. suggestiveness. make out. fluff. crack.
writing below!
wc: 1,5k
prev || next
“oh, hi.” you say as you run into dennis while walking out of the bathroom.
“hey.” he smiles at you.
it’s a little awkward, none of you really know what to say.
“so, uh. happy birthday.” you say awkwardly.
“thank you.” he scratches his neck.
“I actually can’t stand you guys.” trinity says as she pushes you guys into his bedroom.
you glare at her and open your mouth to say something. she cuts you off before you even get a word out.
“you two need to talk, you’re making all of us miserable.” she says as she closes the door.
he sits down on the foot of his bed. he pats the spot next to him for you to sit.
“I’m sorry.” dennis says, looking directly at you.
“you don’t have to keep apologizing, dennis. I’m over it now.” you say softly and tilt your head.
you can see his face drop, the color draining from his face.
“oh, okay.” he says, disappointed. he looks down and plays with his fingers
you grab his hand to get him to stop fidgeting.
“I never said I was over you, dennis.” you say, emphasizing the “you”.
“oh!” he says, shocked and relieved.
“I thought-“
“I know.” you smile at him.
“I hate how awkward things are between us.” he says.
“yeah, me too.” you agree.
“that won’t be happening now, okay?” you reassure him.
“I missed you, a lot.” he squeezes your hand.
“I missed you a lot, too.” you can’t help but smile brightly at him.
“I really like the flowers. I never really told you how much I appreciate them.” you add.
“yeah? I’m glad you like them. just because we’re talking again doesn’t mean I’ll stop sending them.” he was really excited about you liking them.
“we’re talking again?” you tease him.
“oh- no, that’s not what I meant-“ he starts rambling.
his face starts heating up and he turns red. you got him to blush again.
“I’m just messing with you, denny.” you let out a small laugh.
“oh.” he smiles, a little embarrassed.
“so do you wanna try again?” you ask looking at him with sparkles in your eyes.
“you’d want that?” he asks, in genuine disbelief.
“okay, look. what you did really hurt me, but you’ve shown me a new side of you. you’ve shown me how much you prioritize me, even when it wasn’t benefiting you or even when we weren’t communicating. I’ve noticed all the times you’d try to discreetly get me something to eat when you realized I hadn’t eaten all day. also all the times you’d get the girls to check on me when I was overwhelmed. even though you thought I didn’t realize that you were the one who sent them.” you let out a small laugh.
he looks at you with shock written all over his face, he really thought you didn’t know about that.
“those might be small things, but they show that you care. that’s really all I’ve wanted.” you continue while playing with his hands. telling him all this makes you nervous.
“I also really appreciate the letters you’ve sent. they were all really sweet.” you finish off and look up at him.
he’s feeling a mix of emotions. he’s thrilled that you’ve noticed all those things. the fact that he’s making you feel prioritized is really all he’s wanted. you are his priority. he’s also extremely relieved that you want to give him a second chance. he’s so happy that he could cry.
he’s looking at you with both shock and admiration. he’s so taken aback that you wanna give him another chance. it leaves him speechless.
“dennis, say something please.” you look at him, getting more nervous with his silence.
“can i kiss you?” are the first words to leave his mouth.
“what?” that’s not the answer you were anticipating.
“can i kiss you?” he asks again, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.
“yes, you can kiss me.” you giggle and lean forward.
dennis leans in and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. the kiss was gentle at first, he let you take the led, but after sometime he grew impatient. the kiss became passionate and hungry. he groans into the kiss which makes you let out a breathy moan. he bites your bottom lip, which causes a whimper to escape your mouth. the sounds you’re making are driving him crazy.
he grabs ahold of your hips and sets you down on his lap to straddle him. you let out a surprised squeal as he lifts you and places you down. you both separate for air. he lays his forehead on yours.
“I missed you.” he whispers with a big smile. his eyes are glossy and his breathing is labored.
“I missed you, too.” you whisper back while smiling down at him, lipgloss smeared all over your mouth.
“you got something here.” you as you try wiping off your lip combo from his lips.
“leave it.” he says.
“yeah?” you let out a small laugh.
“want everyone to know your my girl.” he states, proudly.
“everyone or a particular person?” you ask, hinting at something.
“what are you hinting at?” he asks with a smirk on his lips.
“don’t act dumb, I saw the way you were glaring at me and frank earlier.” you say playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he fake gasps and acts surprised.
“you’re stupid.” you laugh and kiss his cheek.
“I have a question though.” he asks a little more serious.
“what is it?”
“did you and frank ever, you know… I don’t know, were you like a thing or something?” he asks hesitantly.
“no, we were never a thing.”
“oh, good.”
“but-“
“oh, god.” he closes his eyes dramatically and puts his head down so it lays on your chest. his actions cause you to let out a small laugh.
“come on, let me explain.” you hold his chin and lightly push his face up.
“after our date, I went to the bar that everyone was at because, well you know what happened. anyways, I got really drunk and he drove me home.”
“yeah the girls said that.”
“yeah, well when he dropped me off, we kind of almost kissed.” you continue, hesitantly.
“almost?”
“well I was really drunk so he didn’t do it. which was good, because I regretted it as soon as I woke up.”
“so if you were sober, he would’ve kissed you?” he asks as he draws circles on your hip with his thumb.
“yeah.” you answer simply.
“but I only really did it because I was sad.. and drunk. I apologized to him the next day and told him that I didn’t actually want to kiss him. he understood and nothing happened after that.” you say playing with his hair.
“he had this thing for me but he always knew how much I liked you, and I also told him about it. so he never tried anything.” you continue.
“does he still have a thing for you?” dennis asks.
“no, no, he got over me a while ago. he’s actually seeing someone right now. me and him are just friends.” you reassure him.
“okay, good.” he smiles at you.
“I’m sorry about all this.” you say as you caress his cheek.
“there’s nothing to be sorry for, my love. you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one at fault.” he says and kisses the corner of your mouth.
“I know, it just makes me feel guilty.”
“stop that, you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t care about what happened with you and frank. all I care about is you, and that I have you here with me now. okay?” he squeezes your hip.
“okay.” you say, a little flustered.
it takes a lot for you to get flustered so this feeling is new to you.
“wait.” you say, realizing something.
“what?” he furrows his eyebrows.
“did you just call me “my love”?” you ask all giddy.
“I guess I did, it just slipped out.” dennis chuckles, turning a bit red.
“that’s such a cute pet name. don’t ever stop calling me that.” you smile down at him.
“okay, my love. I won’t.” he holds his pinky up for a pinky promise. you accept it.
“you’re the best birthday present I could’ve ever imagined.” he says and kisses you all over face.
“yeah?” you giggle trying to push him away.
“you’re the sweetest, cutest and prettiest present I’ve ever gotten. do you know that?” he says as he continues peppering kisses all over your face.
“I have a different present in mind.” you say teasingly.
“yeah? what’s that?” he says, leaning back on his hands.
“it’s a secret, you’ll just have to wait till everyone goes home.” you end the sentence with a fake pout.
“you’re such a tease.” he lets out a laugh.
“the sweetest, cutest and prettiest tease, though. right?” you say sarcastically.
“of course.” he laughs and kisses your cheek.
“come on, let’s go enjoy your birthday party, birthday boy.” you say getting off of his lap.
“no, I just wanna stay here with you. it’s my birthday, don’t I get to decide?” dennis whines, still sitting on the bed.
“you’ll get me all to yourself later. okay?” you say trying to convince him.
“you make quite the convincing case.” he says, taking your hand and standing up.
“yeah, im quite good at that.” you say giving him one last kiss before opening the door.
𓂃 𓈒𓏸🪷
a/n: dennis and reader are finally back!!! EVERYONE CHEERSSSS 🤭😁💗💗🌷
“You know I think about you all the time, and my deep misunderstanding of your life. And how bad it must have been for you back then, and how hard it is to keep it all inside.”
Ten months after Langdon’s addiction and drug abuse was exposed, he’s returned to the Pitt to face the consequences. After a rocky divorce and too many severed ties to stomach, he’s in desperate need of a friend. He’d love that person to be you. But after blowing the friendship up the night of PittFest, would you want the same? Either way, he has to find out.
10. Hanging Out To Dry
“Trust me, I’m not falling. No supersonic heartbeats in the morning. Don’t trust me, I might fall in. I never think about you at all. Leave me hanging out to dry, yeah, I’m hanging around. Wonder if I’m square. Is the grass greener over there.”
You can find the masterlist to this ongoing series here.
This is canon divergent from season 2, aspects will be kept and referenced, but this is largely set in a fictitious season 2.5 or so. Keep that in mind if you notice differences!
If you see a typo, no you don’t. Please pretend it’s not there, I’m not going back to find and fix it. Your girl is too tired.
Comment or message me if you want to join the taglist :)
☄︎ Warnings: None!
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x Garrett Graham
☄︎ Rating/Genre: PG. Fluff.
☄︎ Words: 1265
☄︎ Summary: Your defensive walls shoot up when Garrett approaches, only to learn he's not like the rest.
💭: Garrett is such a cutie to me, he really fit this prompt perfectly. if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here.〣 Garrett Masterlist here.
No matter how many times you’d been burned by it, you had always been in love with the idea of love. You’d watched enough movies growing up that you’d convinced yourself that was exactly how high school would be. When it wasn’t, you told yourself that was because it was meant to happen in college.
It was also around that time you became obsessed with ballet. Something about the raw emotion in every performance moved you, offering an escape to a world where feelings were beautiful no matter how messy.
You walked into Briar University with that statistic about meeting the love of your life at university in your mind. For the first few weeks, you kept waiting for that meet cute, kept thinking you’d be swept off of your feet.
But college men proved to be so much worse than high school boys, as if men regressed instead of growing up. You had learnt to keep your heart under triple lock and key at Briar. You’d learnt the hard way that, to the college crowd, you were just a trophy to try and win. Eventually, books became your only sanctuary to feel the love you craved. They were a place where you could disappear, the only place where passion was treated as something sacred, where a look across the crowded ballroom meant everything, and love letters were the norm.
You kept your circle small, consisting of just a few girls from the ballet classes you took for fun. College life for you mostly consisted of the library, the ballet studio, and the off-campus coffee shop where you worked.
The latter of which was where you were now. it was late and your feet were throbbing from the three-hour rehearsal. You were resting on the counter, your nose buried deep in a worn-out paperback. You were so invested in your book, that you’d already read multiple times mind you, that you didn’t hear the sound of the front door chime, or notice the approach of a customer.
“One large dark roast, black,” a voice rumbled. “...Please.” it added.
You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Garrett Graham was a regular at this hour. He’d introduced himself the first few times he came and, when your response wasn’t throwing yourself at him like he was probably used to, he’d stopped. That didn’t stop him from coming in nearly every shift you were on though.
Truthfully, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Your problem wasn’t really with him; it was more with the other arrogant jerks on campus that you assumed him to be.
Wordlessly, you made him the coffee and set it on the counter, not bothering to tell him the total. He’d been here enough to know it. “Cream and sugar are on the condiment bar, Graham,” you deadpanned, turning back to your book.
“Thanks,” Garrett said, though he didn’t walk away. He leant over the counter, trying to peer over your shoulder to the book you were reading. “What are you reading?”
“Nothing that interests you.”
You sighed, body tensing as you waited for the unsolicited advance.
Garrett let out a dry laugh, as if he found you funny but not enough to really laugh. “You really have a glowing opinion of me, don’t you?”
You finally snapped your book shut and turned to glare at him. It was the perfect, frosty look you'd perfected to keep guys from asking you to parties. Garrett didn't flinch, but he didn't look you up and down with that predatory gleam you were so used to either.
“I don’t know you, so I have no opinion of you,” you lied tightly. “Now, do you want your coffee or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?”
“Yes, I want my coffee and no, I am not trying to get a rise out of you.” If his words didn’t convince you he was being genuine, the look on his face did. “I’m genuinely interested; you’ve made about six different faces in the time I’ve watched you read. I’m curious about the book.”
You blinked, caught completely off guard. “You... want to talk about Jane Eyre?”
“Sure,” Garrett shrugged, “tell me why you’re scowling at it.”
So, you did. Against your better judgement, you explained the complexities of 19th-century romance. And for the first time since your freshman year, a guy wasn't staring blindly at your lips as you spoke or feigning interest just to get your number. Garrett actually listened. He leant his elbow on the counter, challenging you on a plot point, and when you defended it fiercely, he threw his head back and laughed.
“I’m going to find a way to use that in my philosophy class,” he laughed.
“Go ahead, but if you get an A, I expect like 70% of the credit,” you countered, crossing your arms but unable to stop a small smile from tugging at your lips. “And if you fail, then that’s what you deserve for trying to plagiarise a barista.”
“Hey, I take source citation very seriously,” he joked.
You didn’t respond but you did smile at him, a genuine one.
“We should hang out some time,” Garrett said suddenly, hand nervously scratching the back of his head. “If you’d like to, of course.”
Your smile immediately dropped, the defensive walls standing to attention.
“Why?” You snapped, louder than you meant to.
“Because the whole two times you’ve actually spoken to me, I enjoyed our conversation.”
“I’ve only actually spoken to you once,” you muttered.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Garrett’s eyes were gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. You also couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not.
“You clearly don’t remember,” he continued, looking at your confused face. “But I think you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, and I'd be an idiot to let an opportunity to get to know you better pass me by.”
“And that’s the only reason?” You asked carefully.
“Are you finishing for another compliment?” He teased.
You sighed and rolled your eyes. You were about to answer when another customer stepped up to the counter. Garrett stepped aside, giving you the space to work whilst waiting for your answer.
You focused on the new customer, glad for the brief distraction to calm the sudden erratic drumming of your heart. As you punched in the order and handed over the change, you could feel Garrett’s eyes on you from the side of the counter. He wasn't crowding you, and he wasn't trying to slickly slide his phone across the counter to get your number. He was just waiting.
As the customer walked away with their drink, the quiet of the shop settled between you both again. You looked down at your hands, your mind racing. Your brain was screaming at you to keep those walls up, to tell him you were too busy with ballet and classes. But your romantic heart, the part of you that still secretly believed in ballroom glances and grand gestures, was pushing back. Garrett hadn't looked at you like you were a trophy. He had looked at you like he actually wanted to get to know you.
Before your defensive walls could slam shut completely, the words escaped your lips.
“Dim sum,” you blurted out suddenly.
Garrett blinked. “Excuse me?”
“If we hang out, you have to bring me dim sum.”
The smile on Garrett’s face made your chest tighten in the most terrifyingly beautiful way, the way you’d been dreaming about.
“Deal,” he murmured.
AN: i find garrett a lil hard to write for but really enjoyed this one, hopefully it hit the spot!
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Pairing: garrett graham x childhood best friend!reader
Summary: when the granddaughter of the former head coach of the New York Rangers transfers to BriarU, people don’t expect you to be so attached to captain of the Briar Hawks hockey team, garrett graham. what everyone didn’t know was that you are his childhood best friend. don't forget the guys who welcomed you with unconditional support and became family like you’ve never expected.
Warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope. (they act like they’re married and have together for 30 years) one-bed trope. no mention of y/n, pet names are used to refer to the reader: petal and angel. found family to the absolute max, along with dean being a menace. wholesome love all around. reader is given princess treatment.
a/n: worked my butt off for this one, and i hope you all love it as much as i do. i'm such a sucker for the found family trope. also a little family healing for garrett, and did i mention that garrett is completely gone for the reader? (let me know what you think!)
Word count: 13.1k
masterlist
“Did you guys hear about the granddaughter of the former New York Rangers coach transferring here from Columbia?” Logan asked Dean and Tucker from the kitchen. “We’re out of beer.”
Just as he made the statement, Garrett walked through the front door holding a case of beer: “I come bearing gifts.”
“Our saviour,” Logan jokingly praised as he opened his welcoming arms for Garrett to hand the case over to him.
“Logan, is she hot?” Dean chirped from the couch.
“What girl caught your eye?” Garrett teased, walking over to the pantry in search of a snack.
“Not yet. I was asking the boys if they heard about the new transfer from Columbia. Apparently, she’s the granddaughter of the former Rangers coach,” Logan explained.
His words had Garrett pause his rummaging and slowly turn around to face Logan. “Where’d you hear that from?” Garrett’s voice came out more snippy than he had meant.
“A couple of the guys in the locker room mentioned it today at morning practice,” Logan shrugged, not noticing Garrett’s shift in mood.
Garrett’s breath hitched at the mere thought of guys he knew talking about you.
The girl he grew up with. Of course, he knew you.
He couldn’t even remember the number of times you two would go off and explore an arena wherever the Rangers were playing. Even when someone would catch the pair of you somewhere you probably shouldn’t have been, no one could ever say anything against the pout that you would pull out when you were kids. It helped that you were the Rangers’ head coach’s granddaughter.
Your families have been connected since before both of you were born. His father met yours when he first made the team at 18. Your father was 20 and determined to prove that he deserved to be on the team, not just because his father was the coach. Both felt like they had something to prove and became a fierce pair on the ice.
Your mothers bonded quickly when they were first introduced. It wasn’t easy with husbands who were always in the limelight.
They marveled when they found out they were pregnant around the same time. Garrett was born exactly one month before you. Which was something you never heard the end of during your childhood. He would always claim that it was his job to make sure you were safe.
They would always gush when you two were together as children. Garrett was always trailing behind or beside you like a protector, and he was always the first one to help you up when you stumbled over your feet. Sometimes, it felt like he knew you better than he knew himself.
Garrett remembered all the family vacations that you guys shared. The way that his father would put on an act and pretend that they were this picture-perfect family, but you didn’t buy it.
You’ve hated Phil Graham from the moment you overheard an argument between Garrett’s parents when you were 8 years old. You were staying over for a couple of days as your parents were away traveling. Garrett had begged you to ask your parents if you could just stay with his family instead of staying with your grandparents.
It didn’t take much convincing for your parents to let you stay with the Graham family. Granted, they didn’t know what happened behind closed doors.
A memory flashed in Garrett’s mind of the first Halloween without his mom and the first time his father laid hands on him.
“Gare, you don’t have to be brave with me.” You were inspecting his bloodied knuckles. The first aid kit sat next to you on the bed. “This is going to burn a bit.”
“Petal, just do it already.” he tried to squirm away, but you kept a firm grip of his hand in your lap.
Garrett redirected his focus from the pain to you. He watched as you took care of his hand, making sure it was clean before putting ointment over the split knuckles and wrapping it with such care. He looked at you like you were the only thing that brought light to his life.
“Okay, all done,” you muttered quietly while you started putting all the stuff from the kit away. You walked over to his closet to put it back in the corner where you first stashed it when you saw bruises on his mother’s wrists years ago.
“I hate him.”
“I know you do.”
“He’s a monster. He’s cruel. He never treated my mom right, even before she got sick. He’s always been so mean,” Garrett sniffled. He looked down at his wrapped hand and clenched his other fist tightly. “I never want to be like him.”
His words caught your attention, and you sat back over to him. You took his hands in yours and brought them close to your heart. “You, Garrett, are nothing like your father. You are nothing but kind and caring. You always look out for me even when you don’t need to. You are so special, and I never want you to think otherwise.” You told him with fierce invigoration.
Even at 12 years old, Garrett knew then that he would never love someone as much as he loved you at that moment.
“G? You all good there?” Logan snapped his fingers in front of Garrett’s face, hoping to pull him out of his daze.
Garrett shook his head slightly as if to clear the thoughts that scrambled through his mind about you. “Sorry, what’d you say?” His eyes flickered over to Logan, but he still seemed distracted.
“I was telling you about that girl. I heard from a couple of the guys that it hasn’t even been confirmed that she’s transferred officially.” Logan explained to him.
Garrett let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. That news made him feel better that it was just rumors. His chest felt tight at the thought that you wouldn’t share such big information with him. Especially considering he last talked to you a week ago, and you didn’t mention anything about the possibility of transferring to Briar U.
“Hey, G? Do you know her? With your dad being a former Ranger,” Tucker speculated, making his way over to the kitchen to grab a beer. “Maybe a connection?”
Dean joined the rest of the group. “If you do, can you put in a good word for me?”
“Not a chance,” Garrett snorted. “I’m leaving this conversation.” He started to walk away from the boys and headed for the stairs.
“G? You didn’t answer the question!” Garrett heard Tucker yell out from the kitchen. Ignoring him, Garrett made quick work of taking out his phone and pulling up your contact.
His thumb hovered above the call button until he got to his room and closed the door behind him.
“Hey, bub! What’s up?” you answered. Just from hearing your voice, Garrett’s body relaxed. He felt the tension that he held in his shoulders melting away while listening to you. “I actually have some news for you!”
Garrett shook his head. He flopped back against his bed, softly laughing to himself, “Just wanted to talk to you.”
“Love, we just talked last week. Did something happen?” The concern in your voice was obvious. “You know you can call me anytime, right? No matter what.”
“I know, Petal.” A warm smile crept onto Garrett’s face. “Is it a crime to just want to hear your voice?”
“You’re such a sap.” Your laugh came through the phone, and Garrett almost forgot the reason why he called you.
“You said you had something to share with me?” Garrett turned the conversation back to you.
“You know how I’ve been telling you I want a change of pace? I feel stuck here, and I love my family, but I need some space to breathe without someone asking me for Rangers tickets or if I’ve ever wanted to hook up with any of them,” you rambled, beating around the bush of the actual news. “I just want to feel like I’m on my own for once. Wow, I sound entitled. I am so sorry for that–”
“Don’t apologize. I’m always here to listen to you.” Garrett cut you off, knowing that if he didn’t, you would continue apologizing for something you never had to be sorry for. “And I get it. Trust me, I do.”
“I miss you, Garrett.” You admitted it so softly that he almost missed it.
“I miss you, Petal.”
“You’ll be sick of me when I transfer to Briar U.” You snuck the surprise in. “I’m serious, you’re never going to get a moment alone again.”
The moment he comprehended what you said, he couldn’t stop his smile from widening. “Petal, don’t play with my heart like that if you’re not serious.”
“Garrett Graham, did you hear what I just said? I am serious.” You mockingly defended your words. “Love, I mean this. I already submitted the paperwork. I’m waiting on my credits to transfer over, so I can get my new schedule.”
“When will you be here?” The urgency in Garrett’s voice and the question got a giggle out of you.
“Maybe a week or two. I’m still trying to solidify my official housing situation. They offered me a suite on campus, but I’m considering looking for a place off campus,” you explained the small conundrum. “Gramps said he would pitch in if I find a place because he says that he knows the ‘kind of boys that could live on the same floor’ as me. Which is verbatim to what he said, by the way,” you laughed to yourself, thinking back to the conversation with your grandfather.
“I one hundred percent agree with Gramps. Don’t even worry about finding a place. Just stay with me, Petal,” Garrett offered without a single thought or hesitation. “I’d know you’re safe. Gramps would feel better knowing that you’ve got four giant hockey players to protect you. Your dad might not be the biggest fan of it cause he hasn’t met the other guys, but he’ll trust me with you.” Garrett was reasoning with you.
“Love, I couldn’t intrude on you or the rest of your housemates. This is a big thing, and I’m a big girl. I can figure this out…” You trailed off. You had to admit to yourself that what Garrett offered sounded nice. From your search, most places close to campus were already filled since it was midway through a semester. You saw a few that caught your eye, but the drive was 25 minutes away from campus.
“Petal, this isn’t up for discussion.”
“Yes, it is. Especially considering I’m almost positive that when you were moving in, you told me that there were only four rooms.”
“I’ve got the master bedroom, Petal. It’s plenty of room for you and me. There’s an ensuite bathroom. Honestly, it’d just be how it was when we were little and used to go on vacation,” Garrett countered you. “Baby, please just stay with me.”
The softness of his voice almost made you cave at the spot. “You have to ask your housemates.”
“Done. They won’t have a problem with it.”
“You ask them now, Garrett. Go downstairs and throw the idea out there for them. Keep me on call, so I can hear their reactions,” you instructed him.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Garrett shot out of bed and headed for the door. “Boys! I got a question for you!” Garrett yelled out to them, hoping they could hear him over the TV blasting the sounds from their video game.
“Bub, that was straight in my ear,” you pointed out, reminding him you were still right next to the speaker.
“Oh shit, sorry, Petal,” Garrett muttered as he hurried down the stairs.
Dean was the only one to catch what Garrett had said. He pointed it out to Logan. “Petal?”
Logan looked up from the screen. He twisted his head to glance at Garrett. “What’s up, G?”
“Who are you talking to?” Dean quipped at the same time as Logan.
The exchange took Tucker out of the game and left him watching the people around him. He muted the TV, leaving the house quiet.
Garrett’s posture gave away his nervousness about finally bringing you up to them. He never purposely tried to avoid any topics that could relate to you, but that also meant he chose to never bring it up. He got enough questioning about his ‘legendary’ dad and what it must have been like to grow up in that environment. That’s all anyone ever cared about anyway.
“The granddaughter you were asking about?” Garrett answered, hoping his tone was enough to signal to them to be cool about it.
“What do you mean ‘the granddaughter,’ G?” Logan questioned. His eyes widened by the moment.
“How do you guys feel about getting another roommate?” Garrett blurted out. He never thought it would be nerve-wracking to mention you to the guys. He felt like he had to share a part of you that he only ever wanted to keep to himself.
“We only have four bedrooms,” Dean pointed out the obvious.
Tucker gave him an up slap against the back of his head, “He knows that, dingus.”
Garrett ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the guys for their reactions. “What’d they say, Bub?” You weren’t even on speakerphone, but it was loud enough in the silent house that the others could hear you clearly.
“You’ve known who I was talking about this whole time? You just pretended to be stupid or something?” Logan's thoughts gathered quickly to make the connections. “Let me sound like some idiot going on about it.”
“Yeah. She’s transferring from Columbia.” Garrett swept over Logan’s realization.
“G, I don’t know any girl that would want four guys as their roommates,” Tucker claimed, because it seemed laughable that a girl would ever want to live with guys who eat, breathe, sleep hockey.
“She’ll be fine. I’m not asking you to give up any of your rooms. Mine will be fine. I don’t want her to be in the dorms. You know how the guys over there are. I’d feel better knowing she’d be close,” Garrett explained with a rare softness in him that no one ever really heard other than you.
“She’d be more than close,” Dean muttered under his breath. Logan nudged him in the side with his elbow.
“Are you sure she even wants to move in?” Logan asked him honestly.
“Gare, put me on speaker, please?” You requested politely. Garrett abided and shoved the phone more in the guys’ direction. “Can they hear me?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” All three of the guys affirmed for her.
“Unbelievable.” Garrett guffawed at the three in front of him.
“Garrett’s just being overdramatic about this. I don’t want to force myself into your guys’ space–”
“Petal.” Garrett cut you off with a tone that didn’t leave room for much argument.
“Love, you can’t just ask them something like that and expect them to be completely okay with it.”
“Petal, I will call Gramps. Please don’t make this more complicated.”
“Garrett Graham! Don’t you dare!” You yelped on the phone.
Garrett’s mind was only focused on the sound of your voice, as if the rest of the world melted away from him. Logan, Tucker, and Dean all raised eyebrows at each other because of the pair of you. They had never heard Garrett be like that with a girl. Hell, they never saw him interact with many girls unless it was for a night, and they were always quick to leave.
“Petal, all you have to do is say yes.” Garrett implored.
“Would you guys be okay with it? If not, I’ll work something else out, don’t worry about me.” You asked them, uncertain about Garrett’s plea.
“If you’re important to Garrett, you’re important to us. You’re welcome here anytime,” Tucker answered for the three.
Dean raised a finger in the air to signal he was about to chime in. “Get ready for some serious game nights,” he joked.
Logan added, “What’s your drink of choice?”
“A cosmo,” you answered simply, with humor lacing your voice.
“Bullshit, it’s always a strawberry mojito,” Garrett called out to counter.
“Besides the point,” you brushed off.
“Honey, we have to go attend the fundraiser.” Your dad’s call from the hallway broke you away from the conversation. He knocked against your door softly.
“Come in,” you told him.
“You talking to someone, Sweetie?” He said from the door.
“Just Gare, Dad,” you announced to him as he started to enter your room.
“Hey, son! I saw a clip from your last game, and you’re looking real good out there. With this one transferring over, I’m going to have to attend some games in person finally,” your dad happily spoke to Garrett. Who had made his way to the kitchen and placed his phone on the counter while he searched for a drink.
The other three scrambled from the couch to the counter to continue to listen to the phone call. All of them actively started to slowly get more and more geeked out at the mere presence of your dad’s voice.
“Hey, Pop! Thanks, it’s been quite a season out there, but our next home game is in two weeks. Will you be in town?”
“Yeah, I’ll get the lot to come out since it’ll be Petal’s first home game because she originally chose a school with no hockey!” Your dad bellowed out in a laugh. “We have to cheer for you while we can.”
“Gramps, still mad at me for Boston?” Garrett queried.
“Like Gramps could say mad at you, Bub,” you snorted.
Logan, Dean, and Tucker were in utter disbelief at what they were witnessing. They had never seen Garrett at peace and content, talking to people on the phone. He was never like this when he was on the phone with his dad.
They started to question the relationship that Garrett had with you and, presumably, the rest of your family. It was evident that he was close with your family, but it seemed deeper than that. A casualness that only came around when you were talking to family, but they assumed he was somehow also romantically linked to you. Maybe it was both, but the scene in front of them was creating bounds of confusion.
“He’ll get over it once he sees you on ice,” your dad assured him. “Anyways, Garrett. Petal and I have to seriously head out now before the Missus has both of our heads.”
“It was good talking to you, Pop.”
“Bye, bub. I’ll let you know when I get back later. I love you!”
“I love you too, Petal.” Garrett grinned to himself, and the boys officially thought they had lost the Garrett Graham that they knew. The call ended, and Garrett turned back to the boys. “You shitheads are actually okay with this, right?”
And just like that, Garrett Graham was back the way they knew him to be. “G, what the hell was that?” Logan was baffled.
“The former Rangers’ head coach is going to attend our next game,” Dean said in a daze.
“You gotta tell us what’s going on, man,” Tucker said, exasperated by no explanation.
It was clear that Garrett didn’t even know where to start. His mouth opened and closed exactly three times before he even let anything out. “What do you guys want to know?” He thought it was a great question to gauge where the guys’ heads were at.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been with her this whole time, and you’re still with bunnies,” Logan chastised him. “That’s not cool, man.”
“No. No, we’re not dating,” Garrett responded, putting his hands up to somehow show his innocence. “We grew up together.”
“No way there’s nothing there, G,” Tucker protested.
“So you wouldn’t mind?” Dean gave Garrett a look that explained what he had meant.
“Dean, you’re not getting with her. Don’t even think about trying anything,” Garrett warned.
“Oh, you’re in love with her.” Logan snapped his fingers at Garrett.
“Dude, I thought we already knew that,” Tucker said to Logan.
“Wait, how is it going to work with her moving in here? This is not exactly a five-star hotel.” Dean gestured to the slight mess around them. While it was cluttered, the house wasn’t too bad at its current state. It looked lived in. “I mean, if you’re not dating her, but she’s going to share your room with you. I’m just trying to understand this, man. Because that means no more bunnies for you like ever.”
“There’s not going to be another bunny,” Garrett said as if it were the most simple thing.
“He’s a changed man, Dean,” Tucker whooped as he made his way over to Garrett and gave him a good slap on the shoulder. “G, this girl means a lot to you, and if you want her to live here. We’re seriously cool about it.”
“Thanks, Tuck.”
After much discussion, your family thought it was best if you had a week to settle in. Since you weren’t moving into your own place, you didn’t need to bring much other than clothes and necessities. You and Garrett had talked about what he had and what you still needed to buy, but agreed that you could just go shopping together rather than getting anything beforehand. Everything you needed to bring was able to fit in your G-Wagon.
While you didn’t officially start until next Monday, you were finally at Briar to pick up your schedule and really take in the new campus without the rush of trying to figure out where your classes were.
It was Friday, and students were still scattered around campus for those who still had classes. You were walking around aimlessly, trying to find a cafe that Garrett recommended that you might like.
Meanwhile, the guys were finishing grabbing lunch on campus after their practice. They headed out of the dining hall together. Garrett was looking down at his phone as he checked your location, knowing you would be at Briar already.
Garrett cocked his head to the side because, according to the phone, you were in his vicinity. “Holy shit, look at her. She’s like an angel,” Dean guffawed as he stopped the guys in their tracks.
“She’s beautiful,” Logan commented.
“Out of your league, dude,” Tucker added on.
Garrett tilted his head back up to see what Dean was going on about. There you were, about 20 feet away. He had half a mind to tell Dean off, but he agreed with him.
You hadn’t noticed the group staring at you. They watched as you pulled your phone out as if you were making a call. You held the phone to your ear while still looking around, but not fully catching the four boys.
Garrett’s phone rang in his hand, the other three’s heads snapped to look at his phone. He accepted the call. “Hey, Petal.”
“Bub, I think I’m lost,” you told him.
“You look so cute, though. Like a lost little duck,” he continued to admire you from afar.
He watched the realization dawn on your face after his words. You scanned your surroundings and finally saw them. Your face lit up at the sight of Garrett. He did just the same when he saw you start to head in his direction. You hung up the call and slid your phone back into your purse. Garrett slid his to his pocket to free up his hands.
The three guys stayed back as Garrett walked to meet you. They watched as your grin spread across your face. It was so bright that it could make anyone melt if they knew it was directed at them.
The sight of you starting to jog towards Garrett in pure joy was something to behold. You met each other halfway and practically crashed into one another. His arms wrapped around your waist automatically. Your arms locked around his neck. Neither of you was particularly interested in letting go.
“You’re actually here,” Garrett mumbled into your hair. His grip tightened even as he pulled back to look at your face. His eyes crinkled at the corners from the way he was smiling in genuine delight. “I’m never letting you go anywhere without me again,” he chuckled as he picked you off your feet and spun you around.
Your laugh was blissful. Students flowed around you both while they pointed out Garrett and the ‘mystery girl’ he was with. But in the moment between you and Garrett, all of them were forgotten, like the rest of the world.
“Gare, let me down!” you yelped, laughing. Garrett missed that laugh. More than he’d realized.
Garrett set you back down, but you stayed in his arms. You reached up to fix a piece of hair that had fallen across his forehead. Without any hesitation. Without any thought. Like you had done it a thousand times before. Garrett didn’t even react. He was fully occupied by admiring you.
Back to the Dean, Logan, and Tucker. The three guys nearly choked when they saw that. “I thought he said they aren’t dating?” Dean pointed to you two. “She fixed his hair.”
“I was not expecting them to run into each other’s arms,” Logan quipped.
“What is happening?” Dean was utterly confused by the scene in front of him.
“I don’t know.” Logan shook his head.
“I’ve never seen him smile that much.”
“Neither have I, Dean.”
“They have to be dating,” Dean declared.
“If they’re not now, I hate to see them when they are,” Tucker cackled, clapping his hands together. “C’mon, let’s introduce ourselves to our new roommate.”
You tore your eyes away from Garrett’s and glanced over to where the guys were. “Your friends?”
Garrett turned back and saw them walking toward you two. He sighed, “Unfortunately.” He watched as Dean cheesed and happily waved to you. “Oh, my God.” Dean was mortifyingly enthusiastic.
You broke an arm away to wave back. “Are they on something?”
“Worse.”
“Perfect.”
You dropped your arms down and attempted to pull away from Garrett to get ready to greet them. Which Garrett’s response was laughable. Instead, he moved to stand behind you and keep his arms around you. The guys caught how Garrett’s stare stayed on the side of your face. The kind of smile plastered on his face was something his friends had never seen before. It was warm. He looked hopelessly gone.
“Let me guess, the one leading the pack is Tucker, Dean is obviously the blond, which leaves Logan, who has that brooding brunette look to him.” You humored him.
“The second they get over here and meet you. They’re never going to leave us alone,” Garrett said, exasperated. You laughed and moved one hand to lightly grip his forearm while you waited for the three to make their way over.
“Can’t believe he waited a week before she transferred to tell us that he knows her,” You heard Dean tell the guys.
“Hey, you guys! Garrett, you remember we exist, right?” Logan greeted,d joking.
Dean was the first one to offer you a hand. You moved your hand from Garrett’s arm and shook Dean’s waiting hand. “Hi, Angel.”
“Angel?” you whispered to Garrett in question as you pulled away from the handshake.
Garrett just scoffed, but luckily Dean was there to explain, “You look like an Angel, unless I can call you Petal?”
“You’re pushing it,” Garrett warned. Dean smirked and raised his hands to motion to back off.
“Okay, but Angel, if things don’t work out with him, let me know. I’ll only be a few doors away.” Dean winked at you playfully, signalling he was really only saying it to mess with Garrett.
Garrett looked about a second away from committing a felony. You felt his arms tighten around you and pull you to press against him. Logan noticed and burst out laughing. You nearly choked. “You’re a fun one, Dean.”
“Call me Six Flags,” Dean nodded at you.
“I hate you,” Garrett told him.
“No, you don’t, Graham.” Dean smiled.
“Don’t mind him,” Tucker pushed Dean out of the way. “I’m Tucker, well, John, but Logan is also John,” Tucker introduced himself. He opened his arms slightly, and you tapped on Garrett’s arms to let you go. You giggled and accepted the hug. “We cleaned the house for you, Ma’am,” he whispered as you guys parted.
“Oh, how very kind of you all,” you told him.
Logan watched with a grin on his face that reflected genuine. Like he’d decided within the past few minutes that you belonged with them. “We’ve heard nothing but your name for the past week, and honestly, I’m just happy you’re here.”
Your expression softened. “That’s really sweet. And seriously, thanks for being so cool about this. I really appreciate you guys.”
“Any time, Angel,” Logan replied. Dean snorted at the use of the name.
“Not you too, Logan.” Garrett rubbed at his temples. He reached an arm out to you, and you naturally wrapped your arms around him. “Do you have everything with you already?”
“Yeah, my car is packed to the brim right now,” you answered. “Are you guys done for the day?”
“We cleared the schedule, so we can help the Missus move in,” Dean claimed.
“Perfect! Would any of you mind if you drove my car to the house?” You reached into your purse to grab your keys and dangled them in front of the guys. Dean nodded and opened the palm of his hand. “Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, dropping the keys into his waiting hand. “I parked it in the lot near admissions! It won’t be hard to miss.”
Dean finger-saluted you. “I’ll see you all at home?”
“Yeah, we’ll meet you back there.” Tucker motioned to himself and Logan before breaking away from the group with Dean.
“See you in a bit,” Garrett responded, waving goodbye to the three.
When Garrett pulled up to the house, it was bigger than you expected, but at the same time, it made complete sense for the four hockey players.
Well.
Four college hockey players, and apparently you know.
Even after Garrett had parked the car, you knew better than to try to just get out yourself. You waited patiently while Garrett rushed over to your side to open the passenger door and offer a hand to you.
With your hand laced with his, you guys made your way to the porch. The front door swung open. Dean stepped outside, twirling your car keys around one finger. “Your car is officially here.”
“My hero,” you pretended to gush. “Thanks, Dean.”
“No problem, Angel.”
Dean tossed the keys in your direction, but Garrett intercepted and caught them. He kept hold of them and pointed them to pop open the trunk. The movement was so familiar that neither of you really reacted. Unfortunately, Dean did, and so did Logan and Tucker, who were right behind him.
Immediately. They exchanged a look. You pretended not to notice. Garrett definitely noticed.
“Alright,” Garrett announced. “Let’s move this circus inside.”
You all turned to look at your car and the full trunk. Silence. You cleared your thoughts. “What?”
Logan pointed to the mountain of boxes. “You know you’re sharing a space with G, right?”
“We’ll make it work.” You shrugged.
Tucker went to pick up one of the boxes, and he immediately regretted it. “What is in this?”
“Just books.”
“All of them?”
You nodded proudly, “I like reading.”
“Nobody likes reading that much,” Dean retorted.
You pulled your hand away from Garrett to snatch the box away from Tucker. “Give me my children.”
Garrett laughed, and the sound made you smile before you could stop yourself. “Come on,” he said, taking the box from your arms before you could protest.
“Hey!”
“No, Petal.”
“I can carry it,” you defended.
“I know.” He said, heading into the house.
Instead of arguing, you sighed, picked up another box, and followed him inside. Dean, Logan, and Tucker were standing still, which, in passing, you told them, “I thought you guys were going to help?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The three all got a box of their own to carry in.
The inside of the house was exactly what you expected. A little chaotic, but you could tell that they made an effort to tidy up the house for your arrival. It was comfortable. The kitchen looked surprisingly clean.
“I’m a mean cook, Angel. Just you wait,” Tucker boasted before going up the stairs to drop off the box in Garrett’s room. Well, now your shared room.
Any nerves that you had about transferring to Briar and moving in with the guys disappeared. This didn’t feel like walking into a house of strangers. It felt like walking into a place you’ve somehow already been a hundred times.
Maybe because Garrett was here, or that his friends welcomed you without hesitation. Everyone kept making room for you without even realizing they were doing it.
By the time the second trip down to the car was made, you were already helping Dean and Logan make fun of Garrett’s habit of neatly folding laundry.
By the third trip, Tucker is asking you what your favorite meal is, so he can try to make it. Then Logan explained the house’s completely unnecessary ranking system for takeout restaurants, and somehow you’re laughing through all of it.
Dean placed the final box onto the floor. “Important question.”
“Which is?” you asked back while looking through a box full of shoes in dust bags.
“You’re completely okay with just moving into his room,” Dean gestured around Garrett’s master bedroom.
“He offered,” you shrugged, “And it’s not like we haven’t shared rooms before. Growing up on summer vacations, our parents always figured that we would sneak into each other’s rooms anyway, so they just started putting us together by the time we were seven.”
“That clarification should’ve come when we first called last week,” Logan said.
“I hate living here.” Garrett rubbed a hand over his face.
“No, you don’t, G,” Tucker mumbled.
By midnight, only a few boxes were left to unpack, and you guys gathered in the living room for some late-night pizza. The kitchen light was off, the room was illuminated by the TV, and six pizza boxes had taken over the coffee table.
Dean was on his fifth slice and in full interrogation mode. “Okay,” he said, pointing at you and Garrett. “We have questions,” he said, pointing to Logan, Tucker, and himself.
“Yup, we all do,” Logan added, leaning back against the couch.
Tucker nodded. “Especially because he’s acted weird for an entire week.”
“I haven’t acted weird,” Garrett tried to pass off. All three of the roommates stared at him.
You laughed into your drink. Garrett looked betrayed.
Dean pointed dramatically, “First question: how long have you two known each other?”
You and Garrett answered at the same time, “Since birth.”
No response.
“Literally?” Logan blinked. “He neglected to mention that he had a childhood best friend.”
“Literally,” you repeated. “Our moms were best friends before we were born.”
“How?” Dean gaped.
“Buddy, I think you all know who our dads are.” You gently parented him.
“And your grandfather?” Logan asked.
“Former head Rangers coach, as you guys know. Only stepped down after my dad retired from hockey,” you told him while reaching for another slice. Before you had to get up from your place next to Garrett, Tucker plopped another slice on your place. “Thanks, Tuck.”
“Who’s older?” Dean went.
You rolled your eyes at the question, knowing what was coming.
“Me,” Garrett claimed proudly.
“By one month,” you scoffed. “You guys would never believe how many times he pulled that out in an argument.”
“I’m older,” Garrett dismissed.
“By thirty-one days.” You deadpanned.
“Still older.”
“You brought it up constantly.”
“Because it’s true.”
Logan looked delighted. “This explains so much.”
“What does it explain?” Garrett questioned.
“Why you two act like a married couple.” Logan’s words had you choking on your drink. Garrett nearly did the same, but he was quick to rub your back in soothing motions. The action really didn’t help your case. Dean howled in laughter after catching it. Logan and Tucker snickered to themselves.
After calming down, Dean moved on to his next question. “How have we never heard of you before?”
The room went a little quieter. Garrett mumbled, “You guys know I don’t really talk about home.”
No one pushed. They all knew that much.
The boys knew Garrett didn’t like interacting with his dad and that his mom had passed away when he was younger. What they didn’t know was that you had been there through it all.
You nudged his knee with yours, and he glanced at you briefly. Just for a moment, but his shoulders loosened a little.
“There was never a reason to bring me up. I was away in New York, and god knows that Columbia kept me busy enough to have any downtime,” you explained. “And you guys were always away when I would visit during the summer.”
“Wait, a damn minute.” Dean paused mid-bite.
“What’d you just say?” Logan was taken aback.
“What do you mean by that?” Tucker probed.
Garrett shook his head and poked you in the side. “They didn’t know that, Petal.”
“Well, now they do.” You finished the last bit of your slice and put your plate on the coffee table. You leaned back against the couch and tucked your feet under you. Garrett lifted his arm, and you scooted closer to his side.
His arm came behind your waist, and his hand landed on your hip. He tugged you to be snug against his side.
“Now, a serious question,” Dean remarked, even though he felt like he was interrupting something.
“Dangerous start.” Your laugh was airy, with tiredness starting to dawn on you.
“Who said ‘I love you’ first?”
“Straight for the kill,” Logan snorted.
“Oh god,” Tucker mumbled into his drink.
“So help me, god.” You heard Garrett mutter under his breath. You turned your head to look at Garrett and found him already facing you. “We’re not answering that,” Garrett scoffed.
“There was a first time!” Dean gasped.
“Everyone has a first time,” Garrett attempted to brush him off, but he replied too quickly to seem casual.
“That is not helping your case, G.” Logan chuckled.
Dean sat back, feeling victorious. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” you asked.
“That whatever this is–” Dean gestured between you and Garrett, “–has been happening for years.”
Garrett groaned.
Tucker nodded thoughtfully. “Honestly, I’m just glad you finally showed up. He’s been unbearable this week.”
“I have not.”
You laughed again, and before you could think about stopping yourself, you leaned your head against Garrett’s shoulder.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was, and Garrett didn’t even hesitate before leaning back.
Dean, Logan, and Tucker exchanged identical looks like before. None of them said a word. They didn’t need to. The answer to every question was sitting right there on the couch for them to see.
The next morning, you woke up to Dean banging against the bedroom door. The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds. You turned slightly and felt your cheek brushing against Garrett’s bare skin. The bed was a sight of tangled limbs and Garrett’s head tucked into the crook of your neck.
The persistent knocking caused him to shift in his sleep, an arm instinctively tightening around you.
“Gare, I cannot breathe.” You attempted to pull yourself away from his grasp.
“Baby, it’s too early,” Garrett murmured in your ear, not aware of the knocking yet.
“Guys, wake up, we want to go to breakfast!” Dean yelled from the other side of the door.
“Dean, just come in,” you permitted him.
The door creaked softly, and Dean entered the room with a hand covering his eyes. “Angel, are you guys decent?”
“You wish I wasn’t.” You chucked a pillow at him, which he annoyingly caught.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Garrett grumbled, realizing Dean was in the room.
“The guys and I want to get breakfast at Malone’s, and Angel hasn’t been yet, so it’s perfect.” Dean begun. “We’re leaving in 30 minutes.”
“That sounds great. We’ll be ready,” you told him.
“Okay, okay, now get out,” Garrett shooed Dean away.
“Angel, you see what we’ve had to deal with?”
“Try dealing with him for your entire life,” you countered.
“You’re a strong woman.”
“The best. Now, seriously, man, out.” Garrett pointed an arm to the door.
“Fine, but you guys better be downstairs soon!” Dean said as he shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Finally,” Garrett mumbled, tucking his head back into your neck.
“Bub, we have to get up.” You ran a hand through his hair. You felt him smile against your skin. “Come on, let me up,” your hand continuing to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Baby, I haven’t woken up with you in my arms for months. You’re breaking my heart here.” Garrett expressed, trying to be serious, but the whisper of a smile played at the edges of his lips.
“You are being dramatic.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Fortunate for me.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead and finally loosened his grasp around you.
You rose from the bed and stretched. You looked out the window. “This is nice.”
“Yeah,” Garrett replied. You turned back to face him.
You found him already staring at you.
The drive to Malone’s was chatterful. Your car was chosen, but the designated driver was Garrett. You were seated in the passenger seat, holding Garrett’s hand in your lap. The backseat arrangement was laughable. Dean, Tucker, and Logan, in that order, were squeezed into your back seats, which you always felt like were spacious when driving with your friends. But with three hockey players in place, they were like a tin of sardines.
When Garrett finally parked, Logan was the first out of the car and almost tripped over his own legs, with Tucker trying to push him to get out faster.
Logan beat Garrett to opening your door. “Angel,” he said, a smirk pinching at his cheeks while he offered his hand to you.
“You’re doing this on purpose.” You stifled a laugh as you peeked at Garrett, who was five steps short of your door.
“Let me have this one?” Logan whispered. You took his hand and got out of the car. Rather than letting go of your hand, he wrapped your arms together and guided you to the entrance of Malone’s. “You are going to love this place, Angel.”
“Petal.”
You heard him say from behind you, turning back to look at him. “Yes, Gare?”
Garrett Graham would never admit to pouting, but lo and behold, a sliver of a pout was edging his lips. “You’re just leaving me behind?” he gaped. Instead of responding, you let Logan lead you guys in.
“Snubbed by your own girl, that’s got to be tough.” Dean clapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder.
“G, stop moping and let’s go. I’m hungry, man,” Tucker told him, heading in after you and Logan.
Inside, you and Logan were waiting by a booth. Logan slid into one side, and you to the other. Tucker sat next to Logan. Dean dragged over a spare chair, spun it around backwards, and sat at the end of the booth. Garrett stopped at the edge of the booth. “Oh, now you want to be next to me?”
Ignoring his dramatics, you looked up from the menu. “What do you guys usually get?”
Garrett sighed pitifully. He slid next to you and snaked his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You automatically put the menu in front of both of you. “You’ll like the berry waffles.”
“Sounds yummy.” You leaned your head against his shoulder.
“You’d think they didn’t wake up next to each other,” Dean teased. “Garrett, get a grip, dude.”
Even with the teasing, Logan, Tucker, and Dean enjoyed seeing Garrett like this. A kind of softness that he never really displayed to people besides you. The tenderness as he whispered to you as if no one else existed. The way the menu was shared, and Garrett was pointing out all the things he thought you would like to try at some point.
A waitress came by with coffee. Without asking, Garrett reached over and slid a mug in front of him before adding two sugar packets. Then a splash of cream. He stirred it once before pushing it toward you. “There.”
“Thanks, baby.” You took a sip. “Perfect.” You pressed a kiss against his jaw.
“You didn’t even watch him make it,” Logan commented.
“I don’t have to?” Your eyebrows pulled together, showing your slight confusion.
“You just trusted whatever he put in it?”
“He’s made my coffee since I first started drinking coffee.”
Logan blinked. “They’ve killed me.”
“God, I forgot that you guys have been married for years,” Dean joked.
Tucker ignored the rest of the group and got to ordering. The rest of you followed suit.
Around the diner, people had definitely started noticing. Mostly because four starting hockey players were difficult to ignore, especially when one of those players is the captain, Garrett Graham. What really stuck out was you, the unfamiliar girl who leaned into his side as if you belonged there.
Whispers bounced between tables.
“Who is she?”
“Is that the new transfer girl people have been talking about?”
“How does she have Graham bringing her with the guys?”
“I thought he said he doesn’t do girlfriends.”
Two girls near the counter glanced over one too many times. One leaned toward the other. “I’ve literally never seen him with a girl before.”
“Maybe she’s his sister.”
You happened to laugh at something Garrett said, but the smile that was plastered across his face said it all.
One of the girls frowned. “Definitely not his sister.”
Dean noticed before anyone else. Without turning around, he spoke just loudly enough for it to reach anyone sitting at the counter. “Man.” The others looked at him. “It’s amazing how people forget that minding their own business is free.”
“It’s ridiculous,” Tucker said bluntly. The whispering behind him immediately quieted.
Logan casually leaned back in the booth. “It’s almost like we have our own lives.”
There was a softness that came over your features. It radiated such appreciative affection for such new, devoted friends. The guys defended you as if you were their own, without a second thought or hesitation.
Dean caught your eye and winked at you. “We’ve got your back, Angel.”
“Always,” Logan added.
“You’ve got us for life, Angel,” Tucker finished.
“You guys are going to make me cry.” You teared up a bit, and your face flushed with heat at the gesture. Garrett rubbed at your side soothingly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Angel, we’re practically family already,” Logan reasoned, sending you a sweet smile.
“I am going to be the best uncle ever,” Tucker claimed, nodding his head.
“But I get to be the Godfather,” Dean asserted in full seriousness, but the act dropped quickly with a grin spreading across his face.
“We’ll play rock, paper, scissors for it.” Logan contended, waving a hand at Dean.
Garrett snorted, shifting the attention to him. “Unlikely,” he scoffed jokingly under his breath, but it wasn’t quiet enough for the guys not to catch it, and especially not for you.
You pressed a hand against the one he had on your side. Your thumb rubbed circles against his knuckles.
“Listen, buddy, we never said you had to be the dad,” Logan tutted at Garrett.
You felt Garrett stiff beside you. “That’s not even funny, man.”
“Oh, this is gold.” Tucker snickered at Garrett’s obvious displeasure at the mere idea of you creating a life with someone else.
“I’m fine.” You all caught on to Garrett’s voice and how defensive he sounded.
Dean wasn’t ready to end Garrett’s suffering just yet. “You want blond babies, Angel?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “They’d be beautiful.”
Your whole body shook with laughter at Dean’s insinuation. You didn’t see Garrett’s face, but the guys did. The way his brow wrinkled into a deep frown. His right eye twitched while he was glaring down at Dean. “Godfather, typically means you’d have to be alive for the role.”
Dean paled slightly. Instead of replying, he took a long sip from his water, gulping awkwardly.
Tucker had put his hand to muzzle his laugh that was threatening to spill out.
Logan was suddenly very interested in a ketchup bottle. “These ingredients are so funny.”
The waitress came up to the table with breakfast, unaware of the scene she was walking into. “Hope you all enjoy,” she said, setting plates in front of each of you. She refilled your waters before finally walking away from the booth.
Garrett’s frown dropped just like that. Before you could reach for the syrup, Garrett poured it perfectly on your waffles. You grabbed a piece of bacon off his plate. You took a bite of about half of it before you offered it up to Garrett’s mouth. He ate the rest without questioning.
Neither of you looked exactly at each other, but the way you moved with ease and avoided bumping into one another said it all.
Neither of you broke the conversation either. Garrett asked if you liked the waffles. You nodded sweetly, taking another bite. He hummed, satisfied in response. It happened so naturally that it was obvious that neither of you even processed how you guys were.
Across the table, Logan stared.
Then at Tucker.
Then at Dean.
“I think we’ve been upgraded from roommates,” Logan muttered to the two.
“We’re just watching these two domesticate each other in real time.” Tucker looked a bit in awe at how evidently you both were in tune with one another.
Dean nodded solemnly, “I think we’re witnessing a thirty-year marriage before the first date.” He took another bite of the pancakes. “They’re hopeless.”
You and Garrett looked over. “What?” you both asked at the same time.
The three roommates burst into laughter. You and Garrett looked at each other, and despite having no idea what was so funny. You both started laughing, too.
Della, from behind the counter, watched the way the five of you fit together. She had never seen the boys the way they are right at this moment. She immediately decided that you were a missing piece in a very chaotic puzzle of hockey players. You belonged at that table.
Breakfast lingered long after the plates had been cleared.
The conversation drifted from hockey to classes, then somehow to the time that Dean accidentally set the kitchen toaster on fire. “It was defective,” Dean insisted.
“It exploded because you put a Pop-Tart in sideways,” Tucker replied.
“That’s a design flaw.”
“More like user error.”
You laughed at the pair, shaking your head. You tapped against Garrett’s thigh. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bathroom?” Garrett slid out of the booth to let you out.
“Mhm.” He helped you out like a gentleman and kissed your hand before you walked away from the table.
You did head toward the hallway for exactly seven steps. Then you quietly veered toward the register, looking over your shoulder, and the guys were busy talking about the next home game coming up in a week.
The waitress looked up with a smile. “Everything okay, honey?”
“Perfect, actually.” You pulled out your card that you had sneaked into your pocket before you left earlier. “I’d like to pay for our table.”
She glanced toward the booth. “The hockey boys?”
“Yeah.” You smiled.
“They’re usually fighting over who pays.”
“I figured.”
“You sure? Honey, I’m positive that none of those boys would want you to pay.”
You looked over your shoulder again. The four of them were full of laughter. Logan was dramatically reenacting whatever play he was retelling. Tucker looked like he regretted encouraging him. Dean was adding in parts that Logan was leaving out. And Garrett. He was watching the conversation with that quiet little smile he’d worn almost all morning.
It tugged at something in your chest. “They’ve been really good to me.”
The waitress followed your gaze. “You’ve known them for a long time?” She wondered.
“Just the one I was sitting next to.”
She rang up the bill. You tipped her generously when signing off the receipt. When she handed your copy, you tucked it into your pocket along with your card before anyone could notice.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sweetie.”
When you returned, Dean looked up. “That was fast.”
“I think we’re ready to finish up here,” Tucker said.
“I physically cannot move.” Dean leaned back and rubbed his stomach.
“You had seven pancakes,” Logan reminded him.
“I regret nothing.”
Garrett politely signalled for the waitress’s attention. She placed the check holder at the edge of the table. “Huh,” Garrett muttered when he reached for it.
“What?” Logan asked.
“It’s empty.”
Dean frowned. “What do you mean it’s empty?”
“The bill.”
“You guys already paid?” Tucker questioned.
Garrett looked at the others. “I didn’t.”
“I was waiting for him,” Dean said, pointing to Garrett.
“So was I,” Tucker admitted.
The waitress walked by carrying another tray to pick up the empty plates off the table. “You boys are all set.”
Four heads turned. You busied yourself with applying some lip balm. “What?”
Logan shook his head.
“It was taken care of already.” The booth fell completely silent.
Four pairs of eyes turned toward you.
“Petal,” Garrett said.
“No.” You stopped.
“You paid?” He scoffed.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You absolutely paid,” Logan retorted.
“You didn’t have to do that, Angel,” Dean said.
“I didn’t do anything,” you shrugged.
“Bullshit,” Garrett muttered.
“Breakfast seemed like a pretty cheap way to say thank you for letting me into your lives so easily.”
The table was quiet for another moment. Then Dean stood up. “Oh.”
“What?” You glanced at him. Tucker and Logan slid out of the booth to stand as well. Garrett did the same. Your eyes flickered to each of them. They all shared a look and nodded. In a blink, you were bombarded by the four. They hugged, keeping you in the middle. “Guys, I can’t breathe.”
“Too late,” Logan mumbled.
“Petal, we don’t need that.”
You were holding up two different colored fluffy throw blankets. “Do you like the dark blue better or the gray?” ignoring Garrett’s statement.
“You’re not going to use it, and it’ll end up on the floor.”
“I can use it in the living room.” You brushed him off.
“Okay, fine, just get both. One for the living room and the other for the bed.” Garrett gave in.
You hummed to yourself triumphantly. “You see, that wasn’t so hard.” You brushed a faint kiss against the left side of his jawline before you put the blankets in the cart.
A husband who was in the same aisle with his wife had watched the short interaction between you and Garrett. He had a fond expression written across his face. “Son, happy wife, happy life.” He simply said before following his wife out of the aisle.
“Are you planning a proposal I don’t know about yet?” You teased Garrett, grinning at him. Your faces were inches apart.
Garrett brought a hand to your face with his thumb gently stroking your cheek. His face carried a relaxed smile. His gaze was locked into your eyes. “Not yet. But eventually.”
You wished his words would surprise you, but in reality, it was more of a confirmation than anything else. “I think we’re skipping a few steps.” You placed a hand on his chest, and you could feel the beating of his heart.
“Like there would be anyone for me other than you,” Garrett murmured.
You could tell he was holding himself back. The way he brought himself closer to you and tilted his face to yours. His pupils dilated, and you could feel his heartbeat start to quicken. “You know, for a second there, I thought you were finally going to do it.”
“If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”
“Who said you had to?”
His lips brushed against yours. It felt like he was trying to test the waters. Your hand slid from his chest to his jaw. The hand on your cheek pulled you in even closer, if that was possible. His lips smiled against yours.
The gap finally closed. The way his lips parted against your own so gently. The kiss was chaste since you both were standing in a store. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He said, pulling away to look back into your dazed eyes.
You pecked his lips again. “We never stood a chance.”
“Against what?”
“Us.”
“It’s you and me forever, Petal.”
The next week breezed past you before you knew it. The transition to classes was easier than you were expecting. Another thing you thought was going to be difficult was you and Garrett, but really, other than stolen kisses in hidden hallways or late nights in the kitchen. The pair of you hardly had to change anything.
Sure, Garrett was even more affectionate than usual, but it wasn’t overly done where the guys caught on to you two. It kind of felt fun keeping it between you and Garrett. Not that either of you meant to keep a secret. It just hadn’t come up, and anyone who had been around lately either assumed you were already dating or, like the guys, just got used to the fact that you and Garrett were suspiciously close.
Plenty of people on campus just thought that the new transfer student finally locked down the infamous Garrett Graham. Not many knew or cared to find out that you guys knew each other prior. No one found that you had moved in either, not that it was any of their business.
As much as you tried not to let it get to you, the puck bunnies were hard to ignore. Especially with the Briar Hawks having a home game soon, everyone was buzzing around you. From the guys’ endless practices and workout sessions to students’ nonstop chatter about the game and after-parties.
Garrett was quick to assure you that the minute he found out that you were coming to Briar. He hadn’t even thought about another girl since. Not that mattered anyway. It wasn’t like you were a saint in New York. You had your fair share of dates that Garrett, over the years, pretended didn’t bother him when you would call him excitedly to prepare for one.
You could hold your own, but that didn’t stop the irk you would get overhearing the bunnies talk about “whatever” you and Garrett had would never last long before he got bored.
You didn’t doubt your new relationship with Garrett. Even your mothers were rooting for you two to end up together, the second they found out about each other’s pregnancies. Garrett was yours just as much as you were his. It’s been like that since the two of you could walk.
“Baby, I’ll see you and the family later at the game, I got to run to meet with coach. I love you.” was the last thing you heard from Garrett at seven in the morning before he hurriedly pressed a kiss against your forehead before heading out the room. You weren’t even fully coherent enough to reply. Just hummed happily before dozing back off.
You decided that around nine it was time to get up for the day. You had the house empty to yourself. The first time since you moved in. Even with everyone’s hectic schedules, there was usually at least one or two other people home. Not that you minded the company, it let you know the guys better and their habits, which some were admittedly messier than others.
Your feet padded down against the staircase. You found yourself looking for something in the fridge to make for lunch. With the game being later into the night, you had plenty of time to get ready for it. Right now, you chose to make lunch for the guys. You had bought a huge slab of salmon the other day and decided that it was the perfect thing to pair with some rice and steamed vegetables for the guys. Just like your dad’s game day lunch.
Music blasted in the house while you cooked. You set out individual meal prep containers that you hadn’t had the chance to use since you bought them. You portioned out a slice of salmon, rice mixed with quinoa, along with steamed broccoli and cauliflower to each container. It was close to noon, and you knew by the time you got to the arena, it would be perfect timing for lunch.
You hadn’t told anyone that you were planning to stop by to drop off the food. The players were still on the ice when you entered the arena. You stopped to sit down a few rows behind the players’ bench while you waited for them to finish their drills. No one had noticed you yet, except for Coach Jensen.
His brows drew together as he tried to figure out if he recognized you. At first, he assumed you were a bunny trying to sneak into watching practice, but his eyes landed on what seemed to be a thermal food bag.
“Definitely a girlfriend.” He thought to himself.
He saw how you watched the boys with trained eyes. It was as if he could see you mentally noting what some of them could work on. That piqued his interest. “Okay. Let’s head to lunch!” He called out to the players on the ice. “I thought I said no girlfriends during practice.” He threw in right after, causing you to snap your head in his direction and see him already looking back at you.
“I’m just dropping off lunch!” You sheepishly called out. You made your way down, and Garrett was quick on the ice to make it over to you. “Hey, bub.” You smiled, watching him take off his helmet.
“That’s the missus, coach!” Logan hollered from across the ice.
“Angel!” Dean’s voice boomed with the sound of his skates coming to a stop near you and Garrett.
Tucker was the only one out of the four to catch what you told Coach Jensen. “I heard lunch?”
“I hope that’s for us too and not just, G!” Logan called out, making his way over.
“Missus?” Coach Jensen questioned to himself more than anyone in particular.
“Is that the transfer from New York?”
“I want lunch, too.”
“She’s the one G was with when we saw him at Malone’s the other day.”
“I didn’t know bunnies made lunches.”
That was the chatter that was amongst some of the other players.
Garrett tuned them out and honed his attention to just focus on you. “You didn’t have to bring lunch for me, Petal.”
“Great! Because I didn’t make it just for you.” Your voice was loud enough for Logan to hear, resulting in him whooping out a cheer. You brought the bag to your front and shook it ever so slightly at the four. “If your coach is okay with me bringing food to feed some of his players…” You trailed off, glancing back at Coach Jensen, who simply was amused by this whole interaction. Never in his life had he seen his star player/captain turn so soft in a matter of seconds, or give any girl the time of day on a game day.
“Whatcha got to feed these hooligans?” He walked over. You opened the bag for him to take a peek in. He could see the stack of meals you prepared for the guys. His eyes spotted how you made sure to take into account protein and grains along with the vegetables. “Not too bad.”
“Approved?” you said hopefully.
“Just make sure they get back to me after lunch is over.” He winked at you in approval before making his way to the locker room.
“Give us a bit, Petal. We’re going to take off the gear, and we’ll come back out. Make yourself comfy on the bench.” Garrett pressed a kiss against your cheek before skating off the ice.
The other three saluted you as they passed by, following Garrett to the locker room. It didn’t take them long to find their way back to you. By the time they returned. They noticed the four containers neatly laid out with a fork sitting on top of each lid, with a napkin placed underneath it.
Dean whistled out, “Angel, you’re my favorite.” He started to pass around a container, so each one of them had one.
Tucker had been the first to open it and see what you made. “Smells delicious, Angel. Is that rice mixed with quinoa? Oh, you’re good.” He complimented, blowing you a kiss.
“Our savior,” Logan greeted you with a side hug and a kiss against the top of your head. Before grabbing a container of his own and taking a seat. “Oh, TIGS.”
“Dude, what does that even mean?” Dean questioned him. “This is good shit?”
“No. This is god sent.”
“Thanks, baby,” Garrett murmured to you in appreciation. He had found his place at your side. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yeah, it’s dad’s game day lunch.” You two were sat pressed next to one another. Your eyes scanned over to the other guys. A satisfied smile wreathed your lips.
Dean closed his eyes, letting out a blissful sigh as he swallowed. “G, you’re evil for not introducing us to Angel sooner.”
Tucker paused to chew, pointing his fork at the salmon. “This is delectable. Thank you, Angel.”
Logan mumbled, his mouth still half-full. “Angel, where were you the past three years on game days? This is so good.”
Garrett just laughed at the three’s antics. “And this is why you didn’t meet them until now.”
“We heard that,” Dean called out.
“How are you guys feeling about tonight?” you asked them, shifting the conversation.
“We got to make sure we win your first Briar hockey game,” Logan affirmed.
“Not her first Briar game,” Garrett corrected before taking another bite of the food. The remark made the other three pause mid-bite/chew.
“She’s been to one before?” Logan raised a brow at him
“Angel, we could’ve known each other much sooner!” Dean yelped dramatically.
“Not the first hockey game, but my first official home game,” you explained.
“When did you see one?” Tucker asked you.
“I’ve been to a few,” you admitted. “My first one was Garrett’s first game playing because how could I ever miss that? Then I’ve been to a couple away games you guys had when it was close to New York. Most recently before the transfer, I went to Garrett’s first game as captain.”
“Hold on a minute,” Dean said. “You’ve been to all these games, and we never knew?”
“Never needed to bring it up,” Garrett shrugged.
“Wait, is that you got so weird at some of the away games? I always thought you were nervous or some shit,” Logan said in an epiphany. He snapped at Garrett’s direction, “I knew it was weird when you didn’t come out with us after.”
“Like that Clovers game! I just figured you were meeting up with a bunny–” Dean was cut off.
“No, I took Petal to dinner after the game.”
“Oh, that was the nice Italian place!” You recalled it in your memory.
“We don’t get taken to dinners after games,” Logan scoffed playfully.
“We’ll take you to dinner tonight, Angel,” Dean offered with a grin.
“Even better, I’ll cook you dinner, Angel.” Tucker winked.
“Sorry, boys. Not tonight. Gare’s got the family coming in to see this game. I’m sure Gramps will want dinner together tonight.”
“Your family is coming tonight? Like actually? I thought that was just like a joke your dad was making.” Logan gaped. “And your grandfather wants dinner?”
“Not with you shitheads,” Garrett snickered.
You smacked his arm lightly. “Be nice. They can come if they want to.”
“Family dinner with hockey royalty,” Dean said, a bit starstruck.
“G, how are you not shitting in your pants?” Tucker said, baffled.
“Her dad is okay with her living with us, right?” Logan brought up.
“More importantly, he knows that you guys are sharing a bed?” Dean added.
Garrett put down the now empty container. “Guys.”
“Yes, my dad is perfectly fine with my living situation. He knows that we’re together, and he trusts Garrett. Well, I think the entire family has had a bet going on since we were conceived.”
“Ma, definitely had one with Mom. You remember when we went to Vancouver for vacation?”
“That was what? When we were ten?”
“Yeah, Ma slid over twenty bucks to Mom during dinner when I was cutting your steak–”
“YOU GUYS ARE TOGETHER?” Dean yelled out the second it clicked in his head.
“Honestly, quicker than I expected,” Tucker claimed.
“Let’s not kid ourselves. They were always together.” Logan retorted.
You tore your eyes from Garrett’s and looked back at the guys. You felt heat flush your face, realizing what you casually said. “Yeah, we’re together.” You couldn’t help the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth.
“Since when?” Tucker questioned.
“The day we brought back the blue blanket from the couch.”
“Oh, I love that blanket,” Logan noted.
“I know, it’s so soft!” You happily clapped your hands together.
“It’s really warm, too,” Logan added.
“You didn’t tell us sooner?” Dean wondered.
Garrett kept his eyes on you. How you animatedly expressed your love of the blanket. The way your eyes lit up when you talked. “Honestly, just slipped my mind. I mean, it’s just so natural being with her.”
“You talking about little old me?” You playfully fluttered your eyelashes at him. “I love being with you, too, love.” You kissed the corner of his mouth, pulling away with a gentle smile.
By the time warm-ups began, the arena was already loud. Student sections were filling with painted faces and homemade signs. Lots of 44 were seen around the arena. The pep band was halfway through the fight song.
Garrett tapped his stick against the boards before skating another lap, absently scanning the stands. He always looked. Even when there wasn’t anyone to find.
But tonight was different. Halfway up behind the home bench sat you, your parents, and grandparents. Your dad had a custom Garrett 44 hat, with your mom sporting 44 on her cheek. You spotted him almost immediately and stood, waving both hands over your head.
Garrett couldn’t help but smile. You were wearing his jersey. His actual jersey. Not one you’d buy from a gift shop. One he’d given you the second you started talking about wanting to plan your outfit.
You gestured to your parents excitedly. Garrett came to a stop, and he scanned the seats next to you. His pause was noticed by Logan. He lifted his stick toward the stands.
“What a night,” Logan looked over in its direction.
Dean nearly skated into Logan. “Man, what are you looking at?” Then he saw them too.
Tucker answered before anyone else. “That’s the family.” His eyes looked over two seats next to you, and rest assured, your grandfather sat there with the quiet confidence of someone who’d once stood behind an NHL bench for nearly twenty seasons.
Dean examined your grandfather. He looked older now compared to clips from his coaching days. The former head coach of the New York Rangers. A living legend. Not to mention your father, who sat next to you. Dean looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “They came for him.”
Your grandfather looked down toward the ice. He spotted Garrett and raised one hand. Garrett’s smile widened even more. He lifted his glove and waved back. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Logan stared.
You laughed from the stands and leaned over to say something to your dad. He smiled, then cupped his hand around his mouth. “ATTABOY, SON!” The words echoed faintly across the ice. Garrett let out a laugh, then tapped his stick twice against the glass in front of them.
The announcer interrupted, “Ladies and gentlemen.” Warm-ups were over.
The game was fast and physical. Two teams were fighting to lead the conference. By the end of the first period, it was tied one to one.
Logan threw a huge hit that brought the crowd to its feet. Dean blocked a shot that probably should’ve gone in. Garrett had two chances and saved both. Every time he returned to the bench, his eyes drifted toward your section.
To the same five people who always cheered him on and like how they always would.
Late in the third period, it was still a tie game with only three minutes left. The arena buzzed with nervous energy. Coach Jensen leaned over the boards. “One more shift.”
Garrett nodded, and the puck dropped. Tucker won it clean, and it was back to Dean, then across Logan, who’d carried through center before slipping it wide. Garrett caught it in a stride. There was one defender. Garrett cut inside and the defender bit. Open lane. For the smallest fraction of a second, everything went quiet. He had snapped the puck.
Top corner. Bar down. Ping. The sound rang through the arena. The red light exploded with the building erupting. Goal.
Students leapt to their feet, and the bench emptied over the boards. Logan tackled Garrett first. Dean nearly knocked both of them over. Tucker arrived a heartbeat later. The arena shook with applause. You were already screaming with both hands over your mouth and tears filling your eyes.
Your dad was on his feet, clapping so hard that his palms had turned visibly red. Your grandfather stood beside him, grinning with unmistakable pride. The television camera caught them easily. “Hockey royalty celebrating that goal,” one commentator laughed. “Looks like they approve.”
The final horn sounded moments later. Briar Hawks won.
When Garrett stepped off the ice, an arena attendant waved him over. “They’re waiting.” He didn’t need to ask who. The family entrance hallway smelled faintly of popcorn and fresh ice.
The moment that Garret rounded the corner, “There he is!” you ran to him. He caught you before you even reached full speed, lifting you clean off the floor as you wrapped yourself around him. “I almost lost my voice!”
He laughed into your hair. “I heard.”
You pulled back just enough to kiss him. Like it belonged there with such ease. When you stepped aside, your dad opened his arms. “Come over here, son.” Garrett didn’t hesitate and hugged him tightly.
“Good game, Pop.”
“You kidding?” Your dad squeezed his shoulder. “That release would’ve beaten me.”
“You don’t have to say that,” Garrett attempted to be modest.
“I know,” your dad brushed Garrett’s hair back from his face. “But I mean it.”
Next came your mom. She cupped his face in both hands before pulling him into a hug. “You look exhausted.”
“I feel exhausted,” Garrett admitted.
“You eating enough?” Your mom tapped his cheek.
“Ma.”
“I asked a question.” She persisted.
“Yes, Ma.” Your grandfather stood, waiting with his hand tucked into his coat pocket. Garrett stopped in front of him. “Hey, Gramps.”
The older man looked over him for a long second and nodded, “I’m proud of you.”
Garrett swallowed hard, “Thanks.”
“You earned that one.” The former coach clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “Now stop standing around me and go stand next to Petal.” You immediately slid back to Garrett’s side. Your grandfather pointed between you two, “Took you long enough.”
Your mom laughed. “I was beginning to think I should’ve agreed to a betrothal that your mom and I talked about once.”
Your dad shrugged, “I would have given them another year.”
Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “It was obvious?” Every member of the family stared at him. He sighed, “Never mind?”
“Hey!” Another familiar voice echoed down the hallway. Dean, Logan, and Tucker rounded the corner, still carrying pieces of their gear. They stopped the second they saw your family. Every single one of the three stood a little straighter.
Dean whispered, “Oh my God.”
Logan elbowed him, “Be normal.”
“I’m trying,” Dean told him.
Tucker quietly failed to hide his awe.
You laughed, “You guys! Come over here!” You motioned them over. “This is Dean, Logan, and Tucker,” you introduced them to your family. The three hockey players suddenly looked like nervous freshmen again.
Your father smiled first and shook each of their hands, “Good game, boys.”
Dean looked as though he might frame the handshake. “Sir, I watched your highlights growing up.”
Your father laughed. “Now I feel old.”
“You are old,” Your grandfather commented.
“I walked right into that one,” Your dad admitted.
The former head Rangers coach shook hands with each of them too. “I like watching your line.” The three roommates collectively forgot how words worked.
“Thank you, sir,” Logan managed.
“That means a lot,” Tucker remarked.
Your grandfather smiled, “You boys play the game the right way.”
Dean quietly leaned toward Garrett and you, “I’m never washing this hand.”
Garrett snorted, and you laughed, leaning into his side, “I figured.”
Your mom looked around the group. “So, who’s hungry?” Every hand went up, and she laughed, “Perfect, go get changed and let’s head out.”
The players immediately obeyed. Garrett kissed the side of your head. “I’ll be back out.”
As the guys started walking together, Dean drifted beside Garrett. “So…”
“What?” Garrett glanced over at him.
“They really are your family.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He looked back to the group waiting for them. At the people that had supported him through everything. Then looked back at the guys, the friends who had become brothers. Then back to you, watching as you shooed him to hurry along.
summary: in the middle of the world ending, steve can't control himself so sneaks into the shower with you
cw: SMUT, shower sex, fingering, (unprotected) piv, pet names, swearing, getting caught out, henderson!reader (but it’s not that relevant)
w/c: 1.8k
The upside down is back, 3 students have died, Eddie was the lead suspect who you were currently in the process of hiding and now Max had just narrowly escaped a murder attempt from 'Vecna'.
Once Nancy and Robin met up with you all after the incident with Max at the graveyard, everyone decided it was best to recalibrate back at the Wheelers house.
You tried to convince the others to stop at yours on the way- so you, Steve and Dustin could change. You also offered the others clothes and showers and food there too in hopes of them getting onboard with the slight detour.
Luckily, they all agreed.
Everyone pilled into your house, Robin and Lucas going straight for the kitchen, Max settling on the sofa with Nancy and you rushing up to have a quick shower, Steve following behind, Dustin turning into his own room.
Your mom was gone, at the store probably, but it meant you didn't have to explain everything and everyone to her thank god.
You promised to not be long, as the others would need to use the bathroom too, but they were all having a laugh if they thought you could go any longer without a shower and change of clothes.
You were stripping before you'd even got into the bathroom, turning it on and stepping in allowing hot steam to circle you in the small space.
You made quick work at your hair, knowing you were just going to tie it up anyway, and you were almost done with body wash when you heard the door open.
"Shit- I'll be like two minutes"
"Just me princess"
"oh- what do you want?"
"Nuthin.."
You knew exactly what he wanted, and you got confirmation when you heard the shower door open, steps behind you, and the door close again.
You didn't turn round, still facing the stream washing off the rest of the strawberry scented soap from your skin.
"mm smells so good"
Steve's hands landed on your hips, pulling you back into him so he could lean down and kiss at your neck. He walked you forward slightly, so you were both under the warm water as he pulled your hips even closer so your ass pushed up against his very obvious hard on.
"Steve.."
"What?" He said innocently as if he wasn't quite literally grinding into your ass from behind, face buried in your neck kissing and nipping at the damp skin.
"Not the best time.. is it Steve?"
"Please.. I-"
His words cut off, replaced by a soft whine as you moved back against him.
Maybe it wasn't a great time, and no you didn't have this in mind when you suggested stopping but now? Who were you to say no to Steve, especially as he'd asked so nicely and sounded so pretty begging into your neck.
"We'll need to be quick"
"Yes princess, I can.. please just-"
You cut him off by turning around and attacking his lips with yours, pulling him into a messy, desperate kiss.
He responded instantly, pushing you up against the cold wall beside you, making you gasp as he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it up to rest over his hip, clearly taking back all control now he has the green light.
His mouth was still on yours as his other hand slid down your body and into your wet folds, making you moan into the kiss, giving his tongue the perfect opportunity to explore more of your mouth.
His middle finger teased your aching hole for a moment before diving into your wet heat. As he stretches you out ready for him, he swallows loud moans and cries from your mouth. You whimpered as his hand left you feeling empty but he assured you it was soon to be replaced with something a lot more fulfilling.
He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, he looked down as he grabbed his length, lining it up and pushing slowly into you. You both drew a sharp breath as you watched him disappear deep into you, holding still for a moment letting you adjust before pulling almost fully out then thrusting straight back in again.
You let out a choaked moan at this sudden movement, arching your back so your chest pushed against his. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking hard leaving rich purple marks on the skin as his hips kept up a brutal pace below.
"Fuuuck- Steve-"
Your hands were griped tight on his large biceps, nails digging into the skin leaving their own marks, the pain of the scratches only urging Steve on.
The bubbling heat in your lower stomach was creating quickly but your leg that was holding all your weight was starting to become increasingly unstable.
Steve pulled back to notice you struggle and without changing his rhythm, pushed you harder against the wall and swiftly picked your other leg up. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, securing you and forcing him deeper as you did, and your arms flew around his neck.
He'd pushed you up slightly, your head above his now, the new angle allowing his cock impossibly deeper, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids every time.
"Fuck princess- so good- 'm so close"
You leant your head down, pulling Steve into a deep loving kiss, one of your hands leaving his neck and sliding down between your two bodies to reach your clit to circle the sensitive nerves.
You moaned loud into Steve mouth as you got closer to your climax. The feeling of him repeatedly fucking you at the perfect angle mixed with the tight movements on your small bundle of nerves and his tongue licking against yours.
"Fuck- Steve- I'm- Gonna-"
"cum for me baby girl, cum all over my cock"
That does it. Your orgasm comes crashing over you, you clench hard on Steve, pushing him over the edge. Steve stills, burying his cock deep inside you, you felt him spilling into you, painting your walls white as you bite down on his shoulder crying out as he rides out both your orgasms.
"Fuuuuck-"
His movements finally slow and he kisses your forehead as he pulls out, setting your weak legs on the floor of the shower. He doesn't let go, holding on tight as you let the shower wash away the signs of sex lingering on your skin
"did so well princess, so good for me"
You respond with one last kiss before remembering where you guys were.
"Shit. Cmon, I told them all I wouldn't be too long"
You shut off the shower and take his hand, guiding him out into the bathroom and hand him a spare towel after covering yourself in your own. As you squeeze out some of the water from your hair into the shower you hear a knock at the door.
Both of you freeze, worried about who was on the other side, how long they'd been there, if they heard. Out of all the people in the house you hoped it would be Robin as that would definitely be the least awkward.
"Uh- I'll be just a second"
"Oh it's okay, just was checking if someone was in here before I tried to walk in"
It was Nancy. Fuck.
You turn to Steve who's face is slowly turning red, his ex girlfriend, your oldest friend, is standing outside of the door to the place where you just loudly fucked, all while the world is like ending too.
"Think she heard us?" You whispered.
"Well she sounded normal so?"
"Think she's still there?"
"Most likely"
"What do we do?"
The idea of having to both walk out the bathroom at the same time, past Nancy, with a slight limp and many new un-hideable hickeys / scratches, was short of mortifying.
"Just- walk out, and you know, don't look at her- head held high" Steve moved his hand to the bottom of your chin as he spoke, lifting it to face him as he nodded uncertainly.
You nodded back slowly before taking his hand in one of yours and opening the bathroom door with the other. As you anticipated you were met with Nancy right outside who went to say something but hesitated then retreated at the sight of both of you.
She didn't say anything as you passed but she obviously realised what you guys had been up to, and when your eyes met hers the smile she gave you said it all. You gave a weak, embarrassed smile back, Steve keeping his gaze firm on the back of your head as he trailed behind you and into the safety of your room.
As he stepped into your room he shut and locked the door behind him, the sound causing you to spin around from your drawers. You met his gaze and the mischievous look in his eyes told you he wasn't quite done with you.
You both stepped closer at the same time, meeting in the middle of your room with a deep kiss, picking straight back up where you left off in the bathroom. His hands pawed at your ass over the fabric of your towel as your hands ran through the damp hair on his chest.
Unfortunately, a loud banging on your door ripped you both from your moment before it got too far as you walked over and unlock the door. This time it was Robin who was standing there, already half way through asking you to borrow clothes.
You open the door to let her in, guiding her to the chest of drawers where Steve is currently knelt down, fishing through his drawer at the bottom for clothes.
"Wait Steve when did you shower?" Robin had noticed his wet hair and towel skirt.
"Oh, just now" he said matter of factly.
"But [y/n] didn't you just shower-"
"Oh uh yeah- uh"
"Oh don't tell me you guys-" she cut off her words as she moved your hair back off your neck revealing the obvious truth.
“ew you guys there literally people dying?!”
The room erupted into defensive pleas and laughter as you picked out clothes for yourself and Robin.
She took herself back out to change leaving you and Steve alone again, who was already reaching out for you.
"Steve-"
"No I know, not the time"
"Yeah.."
His lips met yours again in a deep but not as intense kiss before he pulled away turning his attention to the pile of clothes you'd gotten out for yourself, taking them piece by piece and helping you get dressed.
Robin and Nancy had clearly discussed what you guys had done, the awkwardness becoming apparent with everyone when the both of you finally emerged from upstairs and Robin burst straight into laughter.
"Shut up Robin"
Annie (remus version) @remmyj-ohnloops - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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