i want someone badly a frank langdon x reader smau
in which an accidental text very publicly reveals a certain doctors feelings for one frank langdon
content: black!fem!reader implied but no descriptions used, divorced!langdon, use of (y/n), gen z speak, foul language, mentions of addiction, suggestiveness, spoilers, doesn't follow the pitt timeline or canon, lotssss of creative liberties taken, switches between conversations frequently
inspired by: @p1ttlings and @tequilai + jeff buckley for title
Synopsis: After the events of PittFest, Robby is lonelier than ever, acutely aware of his aging and lack of personal life outside of his job now that Jake will no longer speak to him. He wakes up, goes to work, comes home, and goes to sleep only to repeat the same routine the next day. After what's supposed to be an average shift handoff with Jack, everything changes.
So what if Robby's been skimping out on his therapy sessions with Dr. Jefferson? He thinks he's finally met his purpose, and it's come in the shape of doting on a single mother and (their) her two precious girls.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: Chapter 1
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔* Chapter 2
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔* I'm Your Man
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*Si tu novio no te mama el culo, Pa eso que no mame
❀⋆.ೃ࿔ Mami, ¿qué tú quiere'? Aquí llegó tu tiburón
From the Nashville Zoo’s fb page! Here’s the petition, please please please take a moment to add your name (even if you’re not from Nashville!). If you are from Tennessee, contact your representatives and make it clear that the people do not want this data center. This is an AZA accredited zoo which is home to several species of critically endangered animals, we NEED to protect it. Make your voice heard!
the 4 times dennis hurt you and the one time he couldn’t look away from it anymore
dennis whitaker x fem! reader (one shot) | the pitt ★
wc 9.9k genre hurt to comfort warnings intended lowercase, established relationship, ‘baby’ used as a pet name, jealousy (coming both from dennis and the reader), talks of wanting to break up, arguments, suggestive, swearing, alcohol, reader doesn’t work at PTMC (she’s in college and works part-time as a barista in a coffee shop, major unspecified), whitaker lives with reader instead of santos
summary after treating a patient who later passes away, whitaker grows closer to amy, the man’s widow, a farm girl soon to become a mother. he decides to help her, and your relationship begins to change. you try to be understanding, but over time your unhappiness grows, and dennis continues to overlook it until it becomes impossible to ignore.
author’s note part of this fic is inspired by this fic written by @bitchinbarzal make sure to check it out !! i really liked the setting of that fic and wanted to add my own twist to it. : )
after dennis came home from his first shift at the pittsburgh ER, he was devastated. you welcomed him with a tight hug and let him sink into you on your shared bed.
he had called you from the hospital, saying he’d have to stay longer because of the pittfest shooting, and the entire time you waited, you kept hoping he’d be okay, that the day wouldn’t break him completely.
by the time he finally walked through the door, his expression alone said more than a thousand words ever could. so that night, you simply held him, gently playing with his hair until he fell asleep in your arms. you let him process it all without asking questions. you were there if he needed to talk, but by now you knew him well enough to see when all he really needed was to be held.
the next morning, you woke up a little earlier and went to make him an omelette, his favorite, along with coffee. as you were still preparing everything, you felt two arms wrap around you from behind.
“morning, sleepyhead. you okay?” you murmured softly as he rested his head against your shoulder.
in response, he just nodded, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck, which made you let out a quiet giggle.
“just a few more minutes and you’ll get to eat. if you feel like it, you can tell me about… yesterday,” you whispered.
“i’d like that…” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before letting go and moving to sit at the table.
and then he told you everything. after resting and eating, his cheeks still full of food made with love, he opened up about the patient he lost, about how many times he had to change his scrubs, the rats running around the emergency room, how out of place he felt among all the confident, skilled doctors, and then the tragedy at the end of the day. you just listened, letting him get it all out.
it was also the first time he mentioned amy, though at the time you didn’t think much of it.
he said he was glad he could soothe her, even just a little, but that it was heartbreaking knowing she was carrying the child of someone who would never get to see their baby’s face.
still, it was one of the rare moments he felt truly helpful and useful during the shift, especially when he offered to help her at the farm and her entire demeanor seemed to calm down a little.
you nodded along, thinking it was just something he said in the moment to comfort someone, especially a grieving woman, but as the months passed, you slowly realized that his promise to amy had never been empty at all.
꒰𐔌 ★ 🩺
the first time you were left feeling hurt by your sweet dennis was during a weekend.
a lot of time had passed since his first shift, and dennis had changed in a lot of ways. he had grown a mullet, picked up a bit of sass from his colleague trinity santos, who you got along with pretty well whenever you visited dennis at the hospital to drop off lunch or something he had forgotten that day, and overall, it seemed like he had finally found his place in emergency medicine, but with that came more responsibility and less time for the two of you.
if it wasn’t him who was busy, it was you, juggling college classes, assignments, and your part time job all at once. so your dates with denny usually ended up indoors, curled up watching a movie that faded into the background as you either fell asleep or, on better nights, got distracted by each other. dennis always seemed far more interested in your lips and the soft warmth of your body than whatever storyline was playing on the tv anyways.
but this weekend was supposed to be different. for once, both of you were mostly free, and he had promised to take you somewhere fancy. you deserved it, he said. you deserved to be taken care of for once, after all the days you spent taking care of him.
“doll yourself up and leave everything to me. i have to stop by somewhere in the morning, but by four i’ll come get you and we’ll spend a lovely day together, okay?” he had said earlier, while you looked at him with a sleepy smile. he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, lingering just for a second as he admired you, beautiful even like this, soft and unguarded in the morning light, before heading out.
that was hours ago.
now it was already thirty minutes past four. you were sitting in your shared bedroom, your makeup done, your hair styled, dressed in one of your prettiest dresses. it hugged your figure perfectly, always earning you that soft, stunned “wow” from dennis, even though he had seen you wear it countless times. it was his favorite.
but he was nowhere to be seen.
you had called and texted him, but every call went straight to voicemail, and your messages stayed on delivered.
when you thought about it more, a quiet unease settled in your chest. denny hadn’t even told you where he was going. the thought made your stomach twist. did something happen to him?
the longer you waited, the worse it felt. the dress, that made you feel pretty just a little while ago, now felt too tight, pressing against your ribs as your anxiety crept in. your makeup started to feel heavy on your skin, suffocating, and your perfectly styled hair pulled at your scalp until it began to ache.
when you glanced at the clock again, it was already almost six.
and just as you were about to call trinity, ready to fully freak out, you heard the door softly open. you hurried over, only to see dennis by the door, calmly taking off his shoes like nothing had happened.
“hey… sorry i’m late,” he said quietly, his voice a little uneven. then he finally looked up at you.
you just stared at him, trying to process it. this wasn’t like him. he had been late before, sure, but he used to be the one to panic, rushing in, apologizing over and over like the world was ending. now he just stood there.
“you look really pretty,” he added after a second, quieter than usual. no soft “wow” no hint of that familiar warmth. he just sounded kind of tired.
“i’ll take a quick shower and we can still go somewhere. i’ll find a place, i’m sure something’s open…”
“dennis,” you cut in, your voice tighter than you meant it to be. “where were you?”
he paused, clearly not expecting that.
“i told you, i’m sorry. i just got held up—”
“you didn’t respond to me. not once,” you said, stepping closer. “i called you like five times. i had no idea where you were or if something happened. do you get that?”
he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know, i know. i should’ve texted. it just… got busy.”
“busy where?”
there was a small pause before he answered. “at the farm. with amy.”
you blinked, thrown off. “amy?”
“yeah. she needed help. i thought i’d just stop by for a bit, do something small, but…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “her baby’s only a few weeks old and she was really overwhelmed. i didn’t feel right just leaving her there like that.”he said it like it was obvious, like it made perfect sense.
“so you stayed. for hours,” you said slowly.
he didn’t answer right away, which was answer enough.
“are you serious right now?” your voice rose before you could stop it. “you stood me up, didn’t pick up your phone, and you’re telling me it’s because you didn’t want to leave another woman alone? and not just a woman, but the widow of your deceased patient? do you hear yourself?”
“hey, i said i’m sorry,” he replied, a bit sharper now. “what was i supposed to do? just walk out when she’s clearly struggling?”
“you could’ve texted me,” you shot back. “you could’ve told me anything. i’ve been sitting here for almost two hours thinking something happened to you.”
he sighed, like the whole thing was exhausting. “okay, yeah. i should’ve texted. i get it.”
“no, you don’t get it,” you said, shaking your head. “this wasn’t just ‘you forgot to text.’ you made plans. you promised.”
he looked at you for a moment, then shrugged slightly. “i mean… it’s not like you’re dealing with a newborn right now, unlike her.”
the second the words left his mouth, the air shifted.
you just stared at him in disbelief. “wow. okay.”
he ran a hand through his hair, stepping closer. “that’s not what i meant. i just… look, i miss nebraska sometimes, okay? being out there, helping like that… it feels familiar. it feels like i’m actually doing something that matters.”
“and this doesn’t?” you asked quietly.
he hesitated. “that’s not what i said.”
he let out a breath, softer now. “i’m sorry. really. i should’ve handled it better. it won’t happen again.”
you looked at him for a moment before averting your eyes, taking a slow breath, then another, trying to blink the tears away before they could fall. this just… didn’t feel right. just this morning, dennis had looked at you with so much love. it would be unfair not to accept his words now, wouldn’t it?
but it still hurt. it really did.
you had tried so hard to look pretty for him, and now all you felt was stupid. stupid for wasting your time, stupid for sitting there for hours, stupid for feeling like you had turned into something he had to squeeze in after spending his day somewhere else. like you were just another thing waiting for him at the end of it.
you didn’t want to be jealous. not of her. she had lost someone she loved, had a newborn to take care of and a whole farm. you kept telling yourself dennis was just being kind, that he had always been too kind for his own good.
he wouldn’t… cheat on you with a grieving woman.
right?
it must have shown on your face, because before you could fully spiral, before the tears could slip past your control, dennis stepped closer and gently placed his hands on your shoulders.
“hey,” he said softly. “look at me.”
you hesitated, but slowly did.
“i said i’m sorry. you told me what was wrong, and we talked it out. everything’s fine, okay?” his voice was calm, almost too calm. “you don’t need to cry.”
you were already too overwhelmed to argue. you just nodded, swallowing hard.
“just… touch up your makeup, yeah? give me a minute. i’m here.” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before stepping away and heading towards the shower.
you went back to your shared bedroom and sat in front of the vanity mirror. your eyes were red at the edges, still glossy from tears that hadn’t fully fallen, mascara slightly smudged under your lower lashes. as you carefully fixed it, you kept replaying what had just happened in your head.
this was… so not like your denny.
he didn’t usually brush things off like that. he didn’t usually decide that “you talked it out” and then move on like nothing happened, especially not when you were still clearly upset.
but maybe you were overthinking it. you had to be. one bad moment with your otherwise caring boyfriend didn’t suddenly rewrite your entire relationship, right?
still, your chest felt tight as you stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to smooth out the expression on your face like that could fix what you were feeling inside.
in the shower, dennis just stood under the running water, unmoving for a while. he couldn’t tell if he was trying to wash off the sweat from a long day outside in the sun, or something heavier he didn’t want to name.
guilt, maybe.
not even fully guilt, just… that uneasy feeling sitting under his ribs that he hadn’t handled things the way he normally would have.
he didn’t really understand why he had spoken to you like that. usually, he was the one over-apologizing, even when you weren’t asking for it. but lately, something had shifted in him. a new kind of confidence, or maybe just a different way of justifying things to himself.
he didn’t think he needed to feel bad about amy. not really.
he was helping her. he was doing the right thing.
that was what he kept telling himself as the water ran over his face, louder than the thoughts he didn’t want to fully face.
and somewhere in the background of it all, without him really saying it out loud, your sadness became something he pushed aside to make room for that belief.
꒰𐔌 ★ 🩺
the second time happened a few weeks after that. by then, you were already a little worn down.
you didn’t work in the ER, but your job as a barista still drained you in its own way. you weren’t saving lives, but some customers surely did act like you were actively ruining theirs if their latte wasn’t perfect, even when the issue had nothing to do with you.
and lately, it had been one difficult shift after another.
you couldn’t tell if it was the summer heat making everyone more irritable, but it didn’t help your mood either. especially when you kept checking your phone for any notifications from dennis and there was either nothing at all, or messages like:
behind on charting, won’t be able to pick you up :(
there was an accident on the road and it’s all coming to us, sorry love, don’t wait for me for dinner
you’re working, right? amy will pick me up after my shift, she needs help with building some furniture for the nursery, don’t know when i’ll get home yet. good luck!
any time amy’s name appeared, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. you wanted to be understanding, you really did, but did she not have anyone else? no friends, no family, anyone at all?
it started to feel ridiculous.
and by now, you knew you weren’t the only one who thought so.
once, when you mentioned it to trinity, she had scoffed and called it weird, saying it wasn’t professional at all, that if anyone else at the hospital behaved like that, they’d be reprimanded immediately.
you didn’t really disagree.
but at the same time, you felt almost silly bringing it up again when you and dennis had already “talked” about it before. sort of.
you leaned against the cash register, exhaustion settling into your bones as another shift dragged on. your eyes drifted over to the pastry display, where an apple pie sat neatly behind the glass.
dennis really liked apple pie.
he always said it reminded him of home, how his grandma used to bake the sweetest ones.
you smiled a little at the memory and made a quiet mental note to bake him one soon.
it seemed like your relationship was lacking something sweet these days, and you didn’t want it to turn sour. after all, aside from the amy situation, everything else still felt like it was working. when you were doing your assignments, he would still kiss your temple on his way out, leaving a bowl of fruit on your desk so you’d have “something in your system.” he still held you close when you fell asleep, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
you just needed to focus on the good things a little more.
as soon as you clocked out, you went grocery shopping, feeling inspired to make the best apple pie in the world.
when dennis came home later that day, the sun already long gone, he found you waiting for him.
“surprise!” you said brightly, bouncing slightly on your toes, apron dusted with flour still tied around your waist. the whole apartment smelled warm and sweet, like baked apples and cinnamon.
he paused in the doorway for a second, then let out a soft laugh. “what is this?”
you grabbed his hand immediately, pulling him towards the kitchen. “just come see.”
his eyes landed on the pie sitting on the counter. “woah,” he murmured, more genuine now. “baby, you didn’t have to do all this. weren’t you working today?”
“yeah,” you said, smiling as you watched his reaction, “but i don’t know. i just wanted to. i know how much you like it.”
that softened him. he turned to you right away, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your lips, then another to your cheek like he couldn’t decide where to land.
“you’re sweet,” he said quietly.
you smiled into him, letting yourself lean into the moment.
“let me wash my hands first,” he said after a second, already loosening his grip. “and then i’m going to absolutely destroy that pie. can’t have your effort going to waste.”
he laughed as he said it, a bit lighter now, and before you could respond, he spun you around once in his arms.
it was new. a little unexpected. stronger than before. now that you thought about it, ever since he started going to the farm more often, he did gain some muscle that he didn’t have before.
you let out a small laugh, steadying yourself against him. “okay, okay.”
while dennis was getting changed into his comfortable home clothes, you cut the pie and made him a cup of tea with two sugar cubes. he liked everything sweet.
when he came back, he kissed your cheek again and immediately dug in.
you watched him closely, waiting for his reaction.
“mhmm.” he let out a satisfied hum with his mouth full, which made you laugh, a small spark of pride warming your chest. “it’s so sweet, baby. thank you, i love it.”
he reached for his tea, still chewing. “though it would be nice if you used whipped cream too. amy did it when i was at hers and it tasted like a dream.”
he said it casually, like it didn’t mean anything at all, like it was just a passing thought he decided to share.
but your expression shifted immediately. happiness dropped into something tighter, disbelief and hurt mixing in your chest.
“are you comparing me to her?” you frowned.
dennis paused, eyebrows pulling together like he genuinely didn’t understand the question.
“no? i just said it’s a tip for next time. don’t take it so personally.” he gave you a small smile, already moving on, like it was nothing.
then he continued talking about something from his shift, completely slipping back into his day, like the moment had already passed.
but you hadn’t.
you stayed still for a second too long, trying to figure out if he really didn’t see it or if he just didn’t care enough to. neither option felt good.
“i’m tired. i’m going to bed.” you said quietly, cutting through his sentence as you took off your apron.
he blinked. “oh. okay. night, baby.”
and then he went right back to eating.
you walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, letting it run loudly so it could cover the sound of your sobs. you just sat on the cold floor, knees pulled in, tears slipping down your cheeks faster than you could stop them.
so much so for wanting to do something sweet for your boyfriend.
꒰𐔌 ★ 🩺
the third time dennis hurt you came pretty quickly after that. by then, it didn’t even take much to make you feel sad.
over time, as dennis kept shining brighter, his job clearly fulfilling him, combined with all the farm visits and the confidence he had grown into, something else started happening too.
you wanted to be happy for him. you really did.
but the more he seemed to step into the light, the more you felt like you were being left somewhere behind in the dark.
at first, it showed in small things. forgetting to turn in your assignments. being late to your shifts at the café. then it got worse. you couldn’t sleep properly anymore.
the only times dennis was home, he was usually exhausted, barely able to do more than kiss you hello before collapsing into bed. your movie nights disappeared. your time together shrank into almost nothing. and somehow, the quiet moments became the hardest.
when he was asleep beside you, snoring softly, one arm loosely wrapped around your waist, that was the only time you still felt like you belonged in his world. like you still had a place there.
and even then, it didn’t last.
because the second you tried to fall asleep, a thought would creep in, heavy and persistent.
what if you let go for too long and he just… drifted away?
so you stayed awake.
and then there was the faucet.
it started dripping one night, a steady, uneven sound echoing through the apartment. and if your thoughts weren’t enough to keep you up, that quiet, repetitive tap of water hitting the sink made sure you wouldn’t rest at all.
by morning, you felt completely drained.
when dennis was getting ready for his shift, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on his socks, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back.
“baby…” you mumbled, your voice thick with exhaustion. “the faucet’s dripping. can you fix it? i can’t sleep because of it…”the dark circles under your eyes had only gotten worse over the past few days.
“oh,” he said lightly, like it hadn’t even crossed his mind before. “i didn’t notice.” he turned slightly towards you, gently taking one of your hands off his waist and pressing a quick kiss to your palm.
“yeah, of course. i’ll take care of it when i get home. you’re not dating a farm boy for nothing.” he gave you a small smile, easy and reassuring, before standing up to finish getting ready for his shift.
as dennis left for work, you were left alone in the apartment with that… sound. the quiet space only made it worse, the steady dripping echoing through the rooms like it was filling every corner.
but it was okay. denny said he was going to fix it.
you took a deep breath and made yourself a light breakfast, then sat down to study and work on your assignments. you tried to focus, really, but the grating sound of the faucet kept pulling you out of it. over and over again.
at some point, you weren’t even sure if it was the sound itself that was driving you mad, or if it was everything else piling up inside you, finally starting to crack.
you texted dennis around the time his shift was supposed to end, but once again, you were left on delivered. you rolled your eyes, already knowing what that meant.
but it was okay. maybe amy just needed help with groceries or something small, and he’d be home soon. after all, he promised he’d fix the faucet for you.
and still, nothing.
by midnight, dennis still hadn’t shown up. his dinner sat untouched on the table, wrapped in foil, long gone cold. you didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore. you just sat there, staring at the sink, at the constant drip, your chest tight as your thoughts spiraled.
you couldn’t live like this.
2am passed. still nothing.
eventually, you went to the bedroom and lay down, staring at the ceiling, waiting. and waiting.
dennis finally came home at 5am. he moved quietly through the apartment, like he didn’t want to wake you. or maybe like he didn’t want to deal with you being awake.
unfortunately for both of you, you hadn’t slept at all.
“where the hell were you?” you said the moment you saw him, your voice flat from pure exhaustion.
he paused for a second before answering. “i’m so sorry, baby. i swear i wasn’t ignoring you. i left my phone at work by accident, and by the time i realized, i was already at amy’s. the storms this week caused a lot of damage on the farm, so i had to stay and help. and then it got late, and she didn’t want me driving back when i was that tired. but… i’m here now.”
you let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
“yeah. to get clean clothes. you’re not here for me.”
he frowned slightly, like that wasn’t fair.
“you promised you’d fix the faucet, dennis. i haven’t slept in days. why are her problems always more important than mine?”
he stepped closer, gently holding your face in his hands like that would calm you down.
“it’s not like that, baby. i promise i’ll fix it today, okay? actually promise. it just slipped my mind.”
he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. you didn’t kiss him back, but he didn’t seem to notice.
he glanced at the time right after.
“after work, okay? i’m already late and robby’s gonna be on my ass if i don’t show up. bye. love you.”
and just like that, he was already moving again, grabbing his things and heading out, leaving you standing there in the same apartment, with the same dripping sound still echoing in the background.
you took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, but it got harder the moment you realized your own shift started in three hours.
great.
you could barely handle customers on a full night of sleep, let alone like this, after nights of barely resting at all. you already felt it in your body, the heaviness behind your eyes, the way everything seemed just a little harder.
you groaned quietly, frustration bubbling up. at yourself, at amy, but most of all at your boyfriend. all the apologies, all the promises that never really seemed to reach you anymore. it felt like those only meant something when they were directed at her.
you pushed yourself up anyway.
slowly, you got ready, moving through everything on autopilot. you made yourself the strongest cup of coffee you could manage and forced it down before heading out.
to say the shift dragged would’ve been an understatement.
everything felt off. you kept making small mistakes, ringing up hot drinks instead of iced ones, spilling milk on the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you poured coffee. even the simplest things felt like too much.
you were just so tired.
during a quieter moment, when the line finally died down, your coworker approached you. mark. you didn’t know him that well, just small talk here and there, but enough to know he was a year older, also in college, and had really nice hair.
“hey… you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, careful. “you don’t seem like yourself today.”
you let out a dry laugh, glancing at him. “you can say it. i look like shit.”
he gave you a small, almost amused smile, but didn’t argue.
“thanks for asking though,” you added, shrugging lightly. “i just… couldn’t sleep. there’s this faucet in my apartment that won’t stop dripping, and i can’t fall asleep with it. and i don’t even know how to fix it myself, so…”
mark nodded, listening. then, after a second, “are you free after your shift?”
you looked at him, a bit confused.
“i mean,” he continued, leaning slightly against the counter, arms loosely crossed, “i’m pretty handy. i could take a look at it for you. probably fix it pretty quickly.”
for the first time in what felt like weeks, something in you lifted. just a little.
“really?” you blinked. “that… that would actually mean a lot. are you sure you don’t mind?”
he smiled easily. “i wouldn’t offer if i did.”
then, a little softer, a little more playful, “besides, i’ve been meaning to get to know you better anyway.” he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “don’t tell anyone, but you’re kind of my favorite here.”
you couldn’t help it, you giggled, the sound feeling unfamiliar but nice.
he winked, then straightened up again as another customer walked in, already slipping back into work like nothing happened.
after that, the rest of your shift felt a little easier. anytime you got dazed or lost, mark would quietly slide in and take over for you, telling you to take five and go easy on yourself.
it felt… nice. being seen, being taken care of, even in such a small way. even if a part of you kept insisting it was probably just politeness, nothing more.
when you got back to your apartment with mark, you actually got to know him a bit better. he told you he was majoring in sculpting at one of the fancy art colleges in pittsburgh, joking that being handy was probably the only reason he got accepted. he talked about playing basketball, about his two younger sisters, and somewhere along the way, the conversation just… flowed.
you found yourself laughing more than you expected. it was nice, talking about things that had nothing to do with dennis for once.
you liked trinity, you really did, but she always circled back to him. and right now, you just couldn’t handle thinking about any of it.
you ended up making a quick pasta as a small thank you, insisting he stay for at least a few bites before leaving. after that, you walked him to the door, exchanging a quick, easy goodbye.
once the apartment fell quiet again, it didn’t feel as heavy as before. not as suffocating. and the second your back hit the couch, exhaustion took over. you fell asleep almost instantly, finally getting the rest your body had been begging for.
dennis came home hours later.
you only stirred when you heard dennis’ keys, your body too tired to fully wake up.
he stepped into the living room, his voice low. “hey…”
you barely responded, just a small nod before turning onto your side, your back facing him. you didn’t have the energy to talk to him. not now.
he sighed quietly and went to change, but then paused.
something felt… off.
the apartment was too quiet.
he walked towards the kitchen, glancing at the sink, and froze for a second. the faucet wasn’t dripping anymore. but there were two plates sitting there, neither of them his.
he stood there for a moment before speaking.
“hey… what happened to the faucet?” he asked, his voice careful, though there was something tense underneath it.
you stirred slightly, pushing yourself up just enough to look at him.
“oh. yeah. that,” you mumbled, still half asleep. “my coworker fixed it. i was a mess at work, didn’t sleep, so he offered…”
you stretched a little, not thinking much of it.
dennis, however, did.
his expression tightened just slightly, a strained kind of smile settling on his face as he stepped closer.
“your coworker?” he repeated. “like… a guy?”
you frowned, confusion mixing with irritation as you sat up more properly.
“yeah. why? does it matter?”you pushed yourself off the couch, already exhausted again. “whatever. i’m going to bed. i need sleep.”
you tried to walk past him, but he caught your arm, stopping you.
“i don’t like you inviting other guys into our place to fix things,” he said, his tone firmer now. “that’s what you have a boyfriend for.”
for a second, you just stared at him.
“do i?” you said, your voice sharp despite how tired you felt.
you pulled your arm out of his grip.
“because i haven’t seen him in a while.”
his jaw tightened, but you didn’t stop.
“i asked you to fix it first. you brushed me off for amy. you don’t get to play house at a farm with some other woman and then get mad at me for accepting help from someone else. that’s not fair, dennis.”
dennis looked at you for a moment, clearly deciding what to do next. if it had been the dennis you first fell in love with, he probably would’ve dropped his gaze, stumbled over his words, and started muttering multiple apologies, though the dennis you started dating wouldn’t have let things get this bad with you in the first place.
but now he wanted to use his newfound confidence. to show you he had become better, not just for himself and his coworkers, but for you too.
so instead of backing down, he closed the distance between you and kissed you.
it was sudden, passionate, catching you completely off guard. your eyes widened, and before you could react properly, he pressed you back against the nearest wall, his lips moving down to your neck, slowly sucking at your sensitive spot.
your breath got caught in your throat, your body reacting before your mind could catch up, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.
for a brief moment, it felt like everything else faded. like things were normal again.
dennis pulled back just enough to look at you, something almost smug flickering across his face.
“you don’t need other guys for this,” he said quietly, as his hand slowly slipped into your pants, his lips returning to your neck. “could that coworker of yours do this to you, huh?”
and for a moment, you did feel it. the warmth, the closeness, the pull. and it would’ve been a lie to say you didn’t get wet from his touches, because you did. however it was his fault you were this needy in the first place. months of distance, of being tired, of him barely being there or only half present when he was. you don’t even remember the last time the two of you got intimate.
and just like that, something in you snapped back. because as quickly as your body responded, your mind caught up as well.
the missed calls. the empty apartment. the nights you spent staring at the ceiling. the sound of the faucet. amy. always amy.
your hands pushed against his chest.
“stop. stop!” you raised your voice.
dennis stepped back immediately, actual fear in his eyes. he had never forced himself on you, and this was the first time you had ever fully rejected him like that.
you stood there, breathing uneven, and then it all came out at once.
“you can’t do that. you can’t leave me hanging for months, walking away from me when i need you, choosing some other woman who should be relying on literally anyone else but you, and then come back and act like this fixes it.”
your voice shook, but you didn’t stop.
“waltzing back in here to try to do some jealous power play on me? saying how you can make me feel things that my coworker can’t? when’s the last time you even did anything like that for me, dennis?”
a bitter, exhausted laugh slipped out of you as you ran a hand through your hair.
“i love you, dennis,” you said more quietly now, voice breaking a little at the edges. “i still do. but i deserve better than this.”
you looked at him for a second longer, then turned away.
“i’m going to bed.” you walked past him, heading to the bedroom, leaving him standing there in silence. he couldn’t react in any way, because deep down he knew you were right. he just didn’t want to accept it.
didn’t want to admit that everything he thought was making him better, stronger, someone you could be proud of, was slowly pushing you away instead.
that night, he stayed on the couch.
he didn’t dare come into the bedroom. not after everything.
and as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering on the couch pillows from your nap, he realized how far away you suddenly felt.
꒰𐔌 ★ 🩺
the fourth time dennis hurt you came the next morning.
you woke up with a headache worse than any hangover you’d ever had, and instead of feeling well rested after finally getting the sleep your body desperately craved, you just felt awful.
you didn’t even want to get up, knowing you’d have to face dennis again, face that difficult and weird situation he put you into.
you just wanted to stay in bed. sleep the whole day away, maybe even the next one too, but unfortunately, you couldn’t.
you glanced at the empty side of the bed, the one dennis usually slept on, the cold bedsheets showing that he didn’t sleep there at all.
with a heavy sight you got up from the bed and carefully navigated your way through the hallway into the living room. you took a deep breath before you opened the door and then carefully stepped inside, bracing yourself for what was yet to come.
dennis was still there, which by now, was rather unusual. he was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his eyes tired, but they lit up a little when he saw you in the doorway.
you two just looked at each other for a moment, awkward silence filling the room. after another beat of silence, dennis opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, his phone started ringing.
he glanced at it, hesitating for a second, clearly unsure if he should pick up.
“amy?” you asked, your voice flat, already knowing the answer.
“y-yeah, but uh let me just take this, it’ll be quick, and then we can finish our conversation from yesterday, okay?” his voice wavered slightly.
you let out a quiet, humorless breath.
“bold of you to assume i want to finish that conversation,” you said, your tone tired more than anything. “i said everything i needed to, so go ahead. pick up. wouldn’t want to leave poor amy hanging, right?” you rolled your eyes and turned away, walking out of the living room.
you meant to go back to your bedroom, to get dressed and leave, just get out of the apartment for a while.
but you didn’t go far.
you stopped just behind the door in the hallway, your chest tight, your curiosity and anxiety keeping you there.
you needed to hear it. needed to know how he talked to her. what he sounded like speaking to other woman than you.
you heard him click his tongue before picking up the call, the tension in him slipping out in that small sound.
“uh, hi amy. what’s up?” he said, his voice a little gentler now, like he didn’t want her to hear that he was stressed.
“oh, theo’s teething? is that what’s making him act up? i’m sorry to hear that.” after a pause, probably listening to what else she had to say, he responded with a light laugh in his voice. “you’d like me to come on sunday?” he repeated, glancing at the calendar hanging in your living room.
sunday was marked as your anniversary date. officially three years together. dana had once joked that even some marriages don’t last that long.
you tensed at the mention of that, waiting for his answer just as much as amy.
“y-yeah, i don’t know…” he started, clearly aware he was busy. with you. he was supposed to be busy with you.
but he didn’t finish, as amy probably started insisting. at least that’s what you assumed.
dennis ran a hand over his face before responding. “okay, sure. i’ll come. probably in the morning, because—”
and the moment you heard his defeated “okay” you didn’t even for him to finish the rest of his sentence. you had already heard enough.
you rushed to your bedroom and shut the door behind you, louder than necessary, making sure it made a sound.
you didn’t even know what came over you in that moment. probably all the pent up sadness, the anger, the constant feeling of being pushed aside finally spilling over. the more you thought about it, the more worse you felt.
you did everything for this man. you were there when he had nothing, when he was struggling financially, when he didn’t even have a place to stay. you welcomed him into your home and made it a home for both of you. you supported his decisions, tried your best to build up his confidence, to make him feel like he was enough.
and now he was using the widow of his dead patient, which was insane in itself, to boost his ego?
for what?
were you never enough?
was it because you were a city girl, while amy could give him that quiet life he always talked about? the white fence, the baby, the farm?
you couldn’t do this anymore. you just couldn’t.
so with shaking hands, you pulled out a suitcase and started packing. quickly, carelessly, not even looking at what you were grabbing, just throwing clothes in, one after another.
the moment dennis heard the loud thud from the bedroom, he ended the call with amy almost immediately and rushed in.
he froze for a second when he saw you.
“what are you doing?” he asked, frowning, already stepping forward.
then he moved closer, panic kicking in as he started pulling your clothes back out of the suitcase.
“what are you doing?” he repeated, more urgent now.
“what are you doing, dennis?” you snapped back, your voice rising as you yanked your sweater out of his hands.
“i’m tired of this. i’m tired of feeling like the other woman in my own relationship.”
your chest was heaving now, emotions spilling out faster than you could control.
“you’re going to her place even on our anniversary? seriously? grow a backbone. why couldn’t you say no to her for once, the same way you keep saying no to me?”
the words came out sharp, unfiltered, driven by everything you had been holding in.
and something in dennis… snapped.
he didn’t mean it. not really.
he was just angry. mostly at himself, honestly.
but it all came out wrong.
“yeah?” he shot back, his voice tight. “you know what? i always thought you were a good person, but now it just feels like you simply liked me better when i was at my lowest.”
you froze.
“yeah,” he continued, words spilling out faster now. “when i was that broke, clumsy med student with nothing. no money, no place, nothing. and you got something out of that.”
your heart dropped.
“you used it. you used me to feel better about yourself. and now that i’m not beneath you anymore, now that people actually see something in me, even another woman… you just can’t handle it.”
the room fell silent after that.
you just stared at him, like you didn’t even recognize the person standing in front of you anymore.
“if that’s what you really think,” you said quietly, your voice shaking but steady enough, “then i don’t understand why you’re even here.”
you swallowed, forcing the next words out.
“it’s over, dennis. i want you to leave. right now. and if you won’t, i will.”
your eyes were glossy, but your tone stayed stern.
for a moment, he just stood there, blinking, like he didn’t fully realize what he had just done. then, without another word, he turned and walked out.
the door closed behind him.
and suddenly, it was quiet again.
you sank down onto the floor of your bedroom, the suitcase still half full, clothes scattered everywhere around you.
little pieces of your life together, now just painful reminders you didn’t know what to do with.
꒰𐔌 ★ 🩺
time moved on, but neither did you and dennis. it had been almost a week since he left the apartment, and unfortunately for both of you, today was that fateful sunday.
you decided to stay in, considering all the plans you once had for that day were long gone. you bought yourself a big tub of ice cream, a bottle of wine, and planned to spend the entire day inside, rewatching your favorite show, not even bothering to open the blinds.
dennis, on the other hand, picked up a shift. it was a convenient excuse not to go to amy’s, and at the same time, he needed something to distract himself. he figured if he focused on his patients, maybe he wouldn’t have to think about everything else.
unfortunately for him, his coworkers had other plans.
the first one to bring it up, as expected, was trinity. he had been staying at her place for the past few days. at first, she gave him space, knowing when to leave things alone, but patience had never really been her strength, and she had clearly had enough.
“so, when are you planning on fixing your fuck up, huckleberry?” she said bluntly, her tone sharp as they both sat down to do charting.
“what fuck up?” he replied, not even looking up, like he didn’t know exactly what she meant.
“oh, don’t play dumb,” she scoffed. “just a few days ago you were going on and on about how you were gonna treat your ‘queen’ on sunday, and now you’re here instead. and don’t think i didn’t notice the fifteen cans of beer in my fridge. if you drink all of that and throw up in my apartment, i swear…”
he exhaled, rubbing his face, clearly not being in the mood for this conversation.
trinity just shook her head. “to think you threw it all away for that farm girl…” she muttered.
that was enough to set him off.
“look, i really don’t want you bringing that up, especially here, okay?” he said, his voice lower now, but tense.
trinity raised her eyebrows, her tone immediately turning more biting.
“wow. look at that. acting like a victim,” she said, a sarcastic smile creeping onto her face. “as if i haven’t told you multiple times how weird this whole thing is. you kept telling me how your girlfriend is this perfect, understanding angel, and i kept thinking, who in their right mind would actually be okay with that? now look at that, she wasn’t okay with that.”
he stayed quiet.
“for fuck’s sake, amy was picking you up from work more often than your own girlfriend at this point. everyone saw it. and you didn’t seem to mind back then,” she added, her voice sharper now, as she she stood up, grabbing her things.
“i’m saying this because i actually care, huckleberry. fix it today, or you’re going to regret it.” and with that, she walked off.
dennis sat there for a moment, then dropped his face into his hands.
after a second, dana leaned slightly towards him.
“she’s right, kid. harsh, but right.”
“you too, dana… don’t even start.” he muttered, already ready to get up and grab another case just to avoid the conversation, but she stopped him.
“look, i know it’s not my business,” she said more gently, “but that girl of yours… she seemed really sweet. and she loved you. that was obvious.”
he didn’t respond.
“people mess up. trust me, i’ve had my fair share with my husband. but if the love is real, it’s worth fighting for.”
then she leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice.
“and it’s definitely not worth losing over… whatever this is with a patient’s family.”
she gave him a look before going back to her work.
dennis stayed there, shoulders slumping as he processed everything that was said to him just now, because well, they were right.
all of them.
and you… you had been right from the start.
he had seen it, even if he didn’t want to admit it. the way you held onto him a little tighter in the mornings, the way your smile slowly faded over time.
somewhere along the way, he had lost the balance between taking care of himself… and forgetting to take care of you.
before dennis could dwell on it any longer, a trauma was called in and he was needed immediately.
dennis quickly pulled on protective eyewear and a sterile gown, falling into the routine as he joined the rest of the team rushing to receive the patient. it was serious enough to require a trauma surgeon and immediate transfer to the OR, which meant everything had to move fast.
garcia was the one called in, and at that, dennis couldn’t help but roll his eyes. she had never really spared him when it came to snarky remarks, and now, knowing trinity, she probably knew everything already.
“oh, if it isn’t the funky music,” she said when she spotted him, her tone light despite the situation. “i know you’ve been going around breaking hearts, but don’t break this one too, okay?” she shot him a teasing look before turning back to the patient.
dennis huffed quietly under his breath but didn’t respond, focusing on what needed to be done as the team worked to stabilize the patient.
unfortunately for him, robby had been there the whole time too.
once things finally settled and the patient was stable, robby motioned for dennis to step aside, leading him towards the ambulance bay doors.
“you alright?” robby asked, arms crossed, studying him for a moment.
dennis frowned slightly. “yeah. why?”
robby raised a brow. “because you’ve been off all day. tired, distracted. not like you.”
dennis exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “i’m fine. just didn’t sleep much.”
robby didn’t seem convinced. he leaned back slightly against the wall, still watching him.
“that all?”
there was a pause.
dennis hesitated, glancing away for a second like he was debating whether to say anything at all.
“it’s just… stuff at home,” he admitted finally, quieter now.
robby didn’t interrupt.
“i messed up,” dennis added after a moment, his voice low. “with my girlfriend. like… really messed up.”
he let out a short breath, shaking his head slightly.
“i don’t even know how it got this bad.”
robby hummed quietly, not surprised. “that explains the mood.”
dennis let out a tired laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“yeah.”
there was a short silence before robby spoke again.
“you gonna fix it?”
dennis didn’t answer right away.
he just stood there for a second, the question settling heavier than he expected.
“…i don’t know if i can,” he admitted.
robby shrugged slightly. “then figure it out. because whatever’s going on, it’s clearly getting to you.”
he pushed himself off the wall, giving dennis a small nod.
“get your head back in the game. we still got a shift to finish.”
and just like that, robby walked off, leaving dennis standing there with his thoughts again, only now he couldn’t ignore them as easily.
the end of the shift couldn’t come soon enough. dennis rushed through handoffs with the night shift, barely listening as perlah and princess exchanged knowing looks, whispering to each other in a language he didn’t understand, but he could guess exactly what it was about. at this point, it felt like the whole hospital knew about his fuck up.
he didn’t even bother changing out of his scrubs. he just grabbed his things and hurried out, stopping by the nearest flower shop and spending almost all the money he had left, which wasn’t much, considering he had only just started getting paychecks, on the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers.
then he drove to your place.
he still had the key.
dennis stood outside for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before unlocking the door and quietly stepping inside.
the apartment was dark, except for the soft glow coming from the living room, along with the familiar soundtrack of your favorite show. one he had gotten to know pretty well over time. he remembered you rewatching it during breakfasts back when he was still in med school. he used to tease you about how you could probably recite every line by heart, and you never denied it. he had grown to love it too. mostly because it reminded him of you.
he swallowed and slowly made his way towards the living room.
when he stepped in, he saw you curled up under a blanket on the couch, a half-empty bottle of wine next to you. your eyes were puffy and tired, like you had been crying for hours.
his chest tightened at the sight. he hated himself for letting it get this far. for being the reason you looked like this.
“hey…” he whispered softly.
you looked at him, taking a second to fully register his presence, before a small sniffle escaped you.
“get out,” you said, trying to sound firm, but your voice shook. “i don’t want to see you.” you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, hiding your face completely.
dennis stepped closer, careful and hesitant.
“darling… baby, please just hear me out,” he started, his voice already shaky. “i know you said everything you needed to that day, but i didn’t, and i… i’m sorry. okay? i didn’t mean any of the things i said at that moment.”
he swallowed hard, his voice threatening to break.
“you are a good person. you always have been. and i should’ve been grateful that you stayed with me when i had nothing, when i was… pretty useless, honestly. and then i go and treat you like this…” he let out a breath, shaking his head. “i’m a fool. i know i am.”
his voice cracked despite his effort to keep it together.
“you’re the best thing in my life, and i don’t want to lose that. i don’t want to lose you.”
he took another small step closer, still not touching you.
“i’ll cut amy off. completely. i swear i never thought of her in a romantic way, not once, but i should’ve realized how it looked, how it felt for you. but i didn’t. i messed up. badly.”
he ran a hand through his hair, his words coming out more rushed now.
“i just… i felt good for once. at the farm, i know what i’m doing. i feel useful there. like i actually stand out. in the hospital, there are so many people who are better, stronger, more confident and then there’s you…” he let out a small, almost breathless laugh. “you’re the strongest, most amazing, most beautiful person i’ve ever met. and i think i just… lost myself trying to prove i could be something too.”
his voice softened again.
“and in the process, i pushed away the most important person in my life.”
there was a pause.
“i regret it. more than anything.”
he finally stepped closer to the couch, slowly lowering himself down in front of you, but still keeping a small distance, giving you space.
“can you… just give me a chance to fix this?”
after a few seconds, you pulled the blanket down, your face still tear-streaked, your eyes red. you had listened to everything. every word.
but you didn’t know what to say.
you loved him.
you really did.
but was that enough?
was it right to let him back in after everything?
as if he could read the doubt in your expression, he spoke again, quieter this time.
“you don’t have to forgive me. not now… maybe not ever,” he admitted. “but if there’s even a chance… let me earn it. let me prove to you that i can be better. that i can be the man you deserve.”
he swallowed, then carefully got down on his knees in front of you, placing the bouquet beside you before gently reaching for your hands. this time, he waited, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to.
“i, dennis whitaker, promise that i’ll take care of you,” he said softly. “i’ll fix every stupid faucet, anything that bothers you. i’ll take you anywhere you want to go. i’ll do all those dumb things like putting my coat over puddles just so you don’t get your shoes wet.”
a faint, sad smile tugged at his lips.
“i’ll rub your neck when you’re studying, and in return i just… want to be the one who gets to wake up next to you. the one who gets to eat your pies and whatever you bake until i’m old and annoying.”
his grip on your hands tightened just slightly.
“please. just one more chance. you’re the only one for me.”
there was a beat of silence, as if you were still weighing everything he had said, still deciding what to do with it.
then you let out a small sniffle.
“if i ever hear about amy again,” you started, your voice shaky but holding onto that familiar edge, “or if you ever dare to say my pies aren’t perfect, i’ll sell your clothes on ebay and come to the hospital to show everyone your donald duck boxers.”
a quiet, broken giggle slipped out of you.
dennis let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, a soft, relieved laugh escaping him as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours.
“yeah… that’s fair,” he murmured. “that’s definitely what i deserve.”
he smiled softly before looking at you properly again, his expression warmer now, but still careful.
“thank you. for letting me try again. i love you.”
you sniffled once more, your lips pressing into a small, tired smile.
“you’re lucky i love you too.”
“i really am.” he whispered.
that night was finally the first one in a while where you actually slept a little peacefully.
dennis took the bottle of wine away from you, putting it back into the kitchen cabinet and making you tea instead before gently tucking you into bed.
for a moment, he hesitated.
he wasn’t sure if he deserved to lie next to you yet. part of him thought he should just take the couch again, give you space, not assume anything.
but then you reached out for him. your hand searching for his without even opening your eyes.
that was enough to convince him. he slipped into bed beside you, and the moment you settled, resting your head against his chest, something in him softened completely.
he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting carefully against your back as he felt you slowly drift off to sleep.
he stayed like that for a while, just holding you. making sure you were really resting.
and once your breathing evened out, he carefully reached for his phone.
he stared at the screen for a moment before typing out a message to amy, that he was going to focus on building his own family now. with you. and that if things got too overwhelming, she should reach out to the hospital psychologist, but that he couldn’t be there for her anymore, because he was needed somewhere else.
he sent it, then turned his phone off completely.
when he looked back at you, you were still curled up against him, your chest rising and falling softly with each breath.
his expression softened, but his eyes stung. a few quiet tears slipped down his cheeks as he brushed his thumb gently against your arm.
“i’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered. “i won’t ever do this to you again. promise.”
summary: For the pretty L and D nurse in the Pitt, everyday is a great day. But for Frank Langdon, it's only a great day if she looks at him. And he's trying to prove he's not just a pretty face with a bad past.
notes: just a short one this week. I've had a rough time with my job the past couple weeks (thank you understaffed department!) and so I've had a bit of a hard time trying to find the energy to write.
I just think the concept of ER Barbie and Ken is so cute! I know this has been done before but I wanted to give my own spin on the concept.
enjoy reading :)
Frank Langdon was no stranger to bad days. In fact, they'd become his closest and most reliable friend. A consistency that rivaled the ache in his back and the stress of his work.
His growing file of unfinished charts stared back at him on the screen in front of him, an unfinished granola bar held forgotten in his hand. It had been a rough shift- a car collision that sent twelve to their hospital, a pediatrics case that ended tragically, a couple with a diagnosis that left them in tears.
Frank had given up pretending to smile hours ago, a semi permanent pout etched onto his face.
"Aw why the long face Langdon?"
"Come on, cheer up kid. Don't let the hard stuff get you down."
He types a few more words into his chart, fingers moving half heartedly as he pretends to not notice the eyes on him. Whitaker glances at him from the other side of the nurses station, Cassie and Victoria trying to look interested in the lab work they were reviewing and not like they were whispering about him.
You would think after six months he would be used to it now. The stares. The whispers.
The constant lingering edge that surrounded his work, his practice. Like everyone was waiting for him to snap. To fall back into a bad habit he'd vowed to give up forever.
Frank knew.
He knew the way Trinity ignored him like the plague, rolling her eyes at his mere presence. The way Dr. Al Hashimi watched him like he was some problem child, a bad apple waiting to fall back out of the tree. The way Parker and Mateo sometimes watched him during handoffs, curious.
Like they were all waiting for him to screw up. To make a mistake.
To relapse-
“Hi Dr. Langdon!”
Frank looks up, his face softening as he watches you pass by. You give him a pretty smile, accompanied by a small wave and your signature pink scrubs. A very welcome sight amidst the grey and gore of the ED.
“Hey,” he raises a hand in a gentle reply, his heart flipping in that strange, stuttering pattern it always adopted when you came down from the L and D ward to provide a consult. He smiles when you pause, redirecting your path towards the nurses station. Frank sits up straighter, ignoring the twinge in his back as you lean over the station’s counter, eyeing him.
Don't stare like an idiot. Don't stare like an idiot.
But Frank is sure he's got that stupid smile on his face. In fact, he knows he does because Dana passes by and gives him a look.
He knows he does because Princess and Perlah are suddenly both hovering together over a computer, definitely not looking over a patient's labs by the way their shoulders press together and their low whispers become less coherent.
Frank clears his throat, elbows leaning on the charting desk.
“What brings you down here?”
You smile at his question, long lashes blinking slowly.
“Oh the usual. Al Hashimi wants me to show a couple of the med students how to detect gestational age by feel and not the monitor.” Franks nods, like that wasn’t the least interesting reason you could be down here in the Pitt.
“What, her Ai can't just tell us?” You giggle, glancing back to make sure the attending wasn't around to listen.
“I think the last hospital blackout finally got through to her about our over reliance on technology.”
“So she's overcompensating and teaching medieval practices now?”
“It's not medieval, Langdon,” you laugh. “I’m pretty sure they still teach it in medical school.”
“I must have skipped that lesson then. Right along with bloodletting and mercury poisoning.”
You give him a look, the one you'd give a puppy when it's done something stupid- like gnaw on its tail or trip on its own paw. A look that said “that’s cute” as well as “poor guy.”
But it wasn't pitying. Never pitying. You didn't treat him like he was glass or an infection you didn't want to catch.
You never did.
In the six months he's been back, the six months of knowing you, you had never once brought it up. Never made a jab or given him a side eye. You had come down to the Pitt that first week he'd returned, passing him by as he'd finished his urine collection with one of the nurses.
He remembers that first smile you'd given him, tired after a long day, but still oh so bright. Frank thinks he fell a little in love with that smile. Not that he believed in love at first sight. But this was pretty close to it.
Frank just swallows thickly, trying not to stare up into your pretty face and think about how that shade of lipgloss glittered beneath the ED’s lights.
Unfortunately for him he wasn’t given the chance to.
“Hey,” Trinity’s voice carries casually, her eyes darting quickly between you and Frank as she walks up.
She wore the same calculating look she always wore around him, like she was just waiting for him to taint you somehow. To ruin your bubbly persona and bright smile. The caution and hurt drawn between furrowed brows and a thinly pressed smile that matched the guilt and apology written in his clenched fist and deep lined frown.
Not that you notice. Or at the very least, you pretended not to.
“Hi Trin,” you smile, turning as the glowering R2 takes you by the arm, already pulling you away from Frank.
“Al Hashimi sent me to get you. Says she doesn’t want to keep the mom here any longer than she has to.”
“Oh okay-”
Frank watches as you glance back at him, barely getting out a rushed goodbye and an apologetic look before Trinity was pushing you over to a triage room where Victoria, Joy and Ogilvie were already gathered and waiting.
Frank sighs, not quite ready to get back to his charting, his blue eyes still tracking your pink scrubs from across the ED, watching as you move about the room with a calm patience and grace.
Frank knew you knew about his past. Knew why he'd had to redo his senior year. You had to... being friends with Trinity. And the fact you'd seen him with the drug test that first day.
But you never said anything about it.
You treated him like you treated every doctor down in the Pitt. With a radiant smile and kind heart. And a bit of admiration because you'd once told him, "you ER cowboys never fail to impress me."
That had been after he'd helped you deliver a pair of breech twins. He'd left work grinning ear to ear that day.
It was that smile.
That darn smile.
The one Frank could see you giving Joy now as you helped guide her hands over the patient’s belly. He lived to see it now, a tiny prayer said before every shift that he’d get a case needing your input.
That at some point in the miserable spread of his twelve hour shift he’d get to see your pink scrubs and pretty smile. Get to hear your bright laugh- maybe he’d even get to make you laugh. Or help you with a laboring patient when you needed an extra pair of hands-
“You ask her out yet?”
Dana’s voice startles Frank. He jumps in the chair, turning around like a caught child as he tries to remember he wasn’t currently elbow deep in amniotic fluid and helping you deliver a baby.
“What?” He asks dumbly. Dana snorts, eyeing Frank over her clipboard.
"Barbie doll over there. You just gonna sit there and daydream about her or are you finally gonna ask her out?"
"I wasn't daydreaming about her."
"Oh sure," Dana gives him an incredulous look. "And I'm gonna quit smoking."
Frank shakes his head, waving Dana away. She laughs to herself, pulling out her clipboard.
"What? I'm just curious."
"Yeah, well, it's none of your business." Frank huffs, and turns back to his chart, staring at the computer that had gone back to the main desktop. He stared, not signing in yet, his eyes drifting back up to you.
"I'm just saying kid," Dana continues. "You've been pouting all day, down in the dumps. And then she comes along, gives you a smile and suddenly you're grinning to yourself while charting? Hell of a coincidence if you ask me."
Frank shrugs. "I don't know what you're talking about." He shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. Dana raises a brow. Frank continues, "And even if I did, it's not like I can just ask her out. She's friends with the girl who made me public enemy number one. There's got to be some kind of girl code about saying yes to a guy like me."
"So you think she would say yes. Given the right circumstances." Frank flushes.
"Well... I mean, she seems to like me. Enough at least."
Dana shakes her head. "Oh you kids. You always make this stuff more complicated than it has to be."
"Well it's not that simple Dana-"
Frank is cut off as Dana turns around and calls out a name.
Your name.
He looks up with wide eyes as you slow your steps out of the patient room, pausing your conversation with Al Hashimi. Dana waves you over and you approach the nurses desk curiously, looking between the charge nurse and Frank who is quietly telling Dana to stop.
"Hi Dana." Dana gives you a kind smile.
"Hey yourself. I've got a question for you."
"Oh sure. Shoot."
"You doing anything Saturday?" You stuff your hands in your scrub pockets, rocking on the balls of your feet. Frank gives Dana a look, horrified and wondering what she was playing at.
"Um, not really. I've got to walk my dog and pick up a dress from the dry cleaners, but that's about it really."
"What do you think about joining Frank at the movies? He's got an extra ticket and needed someone to go with. Figured you'd be the perfect person."
"Oh," your eyes widen with surprise. Frank's do too because he's almost hundred percent positive he does not have movie tickets. "What movie?"
Frank swallows, realizing you were pointing to question to him.
"Uh-" He looks at Dana like a fish out of water, silently begging her to not leave him stranded.
"It's the one with the scientist. He goes to space and meets a little alien friend. He's blonde, good looking-"
"Oh! I know which one you're talking about. That new one everyone's been talking about, right?" You say the title. Frank gives Dana a look and she nods.
"Uh, yeah. That's the one." You smile and Frank's heart flutters.
"Sure. That sounds fun. I could use a fun outing. What time is the movie?"
"Um... I have to double check my tickets-"
"3:00," Dana interjects. "I think Frank can give you a ride too. Right Frank?"
"Yeah, uh, yes?" He says unsure. You giggle.
"That's alright Frank. I can meet you there. Oh, hey maybe we could get dinner or something after. Movie theater snacks are ridiculously expensive and I'm always famished after a movie."
"Yeah, that sounds great," Frank nods, brain half functioning because WAS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?
"Perfect," You smile. "I'm looking forward to it."
You look down as your pager beeps, Frank blinking at you as he was still trying to compute what just happened.
"Oh shoot, I have to go... but I'm totally down for Saturday. Do you have my number?"
"Number?" Frank asks dumbly.
"No probably not. Here," You say quickly, grabbing the pen Dana holds out to you.
You reach over the nurses station, grabbing Frank's hand. The ballpoint pentip digs into the back of his hand as you quickly scribble down your digits. Frank is almost sure his brain has been fried.
"There. Sorry, I've got to run. Got an active labor upstairs who needs me. I'll see you Saturday though! Bye Frank!"
Your words trail off as you begin running down the hall, pink scrubs disappearing around the corner. Frank blinks, his hand still raised, skin prickling from where you'd written on it.
Dana smirks, taking back her pen from where you'd dropped it and putting the cap back. "I'm sure you're wondering about the movie tickets."
Frank hums questioningly, still just staring at the space you'd been standing.
"My husband and I were supposed to go this weekend, but he got called out on a work trip and I'm gonna cover for Lena so she can go visit her niece. Figured I couldn't let them go to waste.
"Uh huh," Frank nods. "Did that really just happen?"
Dana laughs.
"Sure did kid. I told you it was simple." Frank chuckles. A quiet huff that quickly devolves into a belly shaking laugh.
"I can't believe it. She said yes."
"Think you'll be okay with Barbie gone back to the penthouse for the day?"
"She said yes Dana. You could stab me with a scalpel or shave my head and I'll still say this was the best day ever."
From across the nurses station, Perlah and Princess giggle with each other, slipping a twenty between their hands as they watch Frank smile starstruck.
Oh yeah. ER Ken was absolutely smitten.
thank you for reading! if you're interested in reading more of my works for the pitt, here is a link to my masterlist :)
summary: ending up in the E.R. is one way to end pittsburgh n1. also an interesting way to reset a dislocated hip.
pairing: jack abbot x popstar!reader
warnings: mdni!, medical inaccuracies, cursing,no use of y/n, loopy reader, suggestive content, sabrina carpenter discography, no spell check.
word count: 2k
author's note: BACK FROM HIATUS BC YOUR GIRL IS GRADUATING!! wow im so sorry but lowkenuinly been a wild semester. first time writing for the pitt ah ! i hope you enjoy :)) i saw someone mention popstar!reader and jack and a chill ran down my spine bc that trope is my fav. i threw this together before bed so im sorry if it sucks okay teehee bye
part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
It was almost perfect.
It was the first show back in North America for the second leg of tour, and everything managed to fall into perfect rhythm. You remembered every mark, changed outfits within your quick change time frame, and managed to stay on key while dancing on stage.
Until the end of the show.
You bow with your dancers, watching confetti fall while you wave to the audience, blowing kisses to the front row, before turning to walk up the stairs on your prop "home" on stage to exit. The lights begin to dim and as you reach the last step, your platform boot slips, sending you tumbling upwards and onto your hip where the edge of the stair ends.
The "ooh" from the crowd that can still see you fall was more than enough to knock your ego down a few pegs. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your manager hurridly approaching.
Nothing else is circulating in your brain except for the fact that your hip hurts. Almost numbingly.
"Shit!" You exclaim as you attempt to move your right leg.
"Are you alright?" Your manager finally comes to your aid, urging someone in her headset to call 911.
You try and move up again, "Ah!— no I can't even put weight on my side."
A crew member approaches, letting you both know an ambulance is 3 minutes away. He looks pale, watching with wide eyes as you groan from the floor. He scurries when he sees the state your leg is in. Which is never a good sign.
"That doesn't look good." Looking down, you see your right leg at a very awkward angle,"Did I already break my hip in my 20s?" A bead of sweat trails across your forehead from both performing and the pain.
"We'll figure it out when we get to the hospital," your manager soothes. She gets the EMT's attention when they finally arrive, stretcher ready for you. You can already sense the excitement from them, one EMT checking for his phone.
"Sophie?" you ask turning towards your manager, "try and make it discreet please." The last thing you need is a tabloid cover of you in the back of an ambulance with the title ESPRESSO STAR TAKES A FALL.
She's holding her headset close to her ear, grimace on her face, "… About that."
The one thing you're grateful for is that you didn't need lights and sirens for the ride to the E.R.
However that doesn't really stop paparazzi from causing a scene wherever you go. You're only able to see where you are after the paramedics wheel you past the frenzy of flashing lights and into the hospital.
It looks fairly busy, doctors and nurses looking down at their charts as they breeze from room to room. It makes you feel silly, you're sure someone in the waiting room is having a heart attack meanwhile you tripped on some stairs. The rhinestoned two-piece you're wearing adds salt to the wound, too. You stick out like a sore thumb in the colorless room.
The paramedic in charge starts listing your name and age to a nearby nurse, "…she fell on some stairs while on stage, BP is 117/78, pulse 92, unable to move her right hip at all."
The redhead nods then looks at the mob outside the ambulance bay doors, raising an eyebrow at the EMT, "What's with the frenzy outside?"
"Holy shit."
You turn to look at a new face, a doctor with an almost empty dunkin' coffee in his hand, as he freezes from where he was dropping off his ipad. He fumbles with his drink, looking for a way to not look like a fish out of water.
"Shen, c'mon let's go," the nurse claps, ushering him to take your case out of the med bay.
"Right—okay trauma 2 is open, let's get her situated now," Dr. Shen states, directing the group into the secluded room. "And Lena?," he motions to the commotion blocking the very crucial ambulance bay, "call for security. A lot of them."
In a moment, there's a lot of talking happening around you that you can't even begin to comprehend. You're being lifted off the stretcher and onto an actual bed, and the pain hits you tenfold. "Fuck ow," you cry out.
Dr. Shen lets out a nervous breath before saying your name, "Did you hit your head at all during the fall? Any nausea or dizziness?" He opens up your eyelids gently with his fingers, flashing a pen light between both. "Equal and reactive," he calls out.
"No, I just fell onto my side. Can't move my leg without wanting to die," you moan.
"Push 4 of morphine," He orders.
You nod tiredly, "Mhm, yeah push that." The relief is almost immediate, the pain in your hip slowly easing as the morhphine hits your IV.
Two more people rush into the room, blue gloves snapped on before you could say hello. You're only able to see a woman as she steps in front of where your head is lolled to the side. "What's going on here—woah," the woman says. She stops herself for a second, surveying the room to see if anyone else is seeing the most talked about pop star at the moment in the trauma bed,"You're-that's—"
"Yep. I know. We'll talk about it in the break room after, Dr.Ellis," Dr. Shen chirps, this is the most exciting thing to walk through the doors since a Brad Pitt look alike got hit by an e-bike.
"The only thing we should be discussing is our patient," a new voice adds, although he does let out a low hum at the sight of you. "How'd you take a tumble tonight?"
You know an attractive voice when you hear one.
You lift your head up as much as the morphine will let you, lazily eyeing the room until you spot him. He's older, emanating authority as he takes note of your vitals. Dark grey curls, rough stubble, biceps so large that you want to eat sushi off of them. Fuck.
"Um, leaving the stage, it was dark and I slipped," you point towards your sparkly boots, "thanks to—um, these bad boys." It comes out more sluggish than you hoped.
He chuckles, his hands coming to survey any external damage on your leg, "Yeah that'll do it." He looks up at Shen, "No CT, her leg is internally rotated, pain when moving. Posterior hip dislocation." His fingers travel up to where your skirt is bunched up around your hip.
You think you hear the heart monitor start speeding up. You groan again.
"Is the morphine not helping?" Dr. Shen asks as he checks the monitors, ready to order for the nurse to push more.
You blink lazily, murmuring out a "No, I just look like a mess in front of this hot ass doctor." What you said doesn't register until a few seconds later, but you're too tired to care. The room is silent for a moment, nothing but beeping and the faint chatter outside keeping the room from being completely quiet.
Dr. Ellis chortles before sliding off her gloves, "I think you got this one, Abbot. Come find me after miss espresso is done, Shen."
Dr. Abbot clears his throat, "Okay, let's get ready to do the Captain Morgan technique for hip reduction." Maybe it's the morphine, but his cheeks look like they have a pink hue to them.
Dr. Shen places a stool by the bed next to his colleague, "This is gonna be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better in no time." He grasps onto you firmly, giving Dr. Abbot a nod, "Stabilizing her pelvis."
You snort, pointing at your new crush as he places his foot to get better leverage on the bed. "He can stabilize my pelvis anytime," you whisper.
"What was that?" Dr. Abbot asks, watching as Dr. Shen turns nearly purple from trying to hold in his laughter. This was so going in the group chat.
Damn, that was supposed to be an inside thought.
You don't respond as every nerve in your body is electrified when he places his hands firmly on your leg, lifting it up and nearly bending it over his shoulder. You let out a shaky exhale because it's not everyday that a hot doctor is spreading your legs to relocate your hip.
"Ready?" He asks, mainly towards Dr. Shen, but you don't miss the way his eyes meet yours as he takes a deep breath in, hands kneading at your thigh.
Dr. Shen was right, this is uncomfortable, but more so the fact that now you're incredibly more turned on than in pain at the moment. You want to laugh realizing how ridiculous this would look to anyone walking by the transparent doors. Rhinestone boot thrown over the shoulder of the rugged attending doctor in the PTMC.
"Ready, Abbot."
He nods, pressing his weight down into the side of your hip, waiting for it to click back into place. At the satisfying POP! of your hip, he releases his grip, allowing your leg to finally move freely. He watches you flop your leg into a normal position, satisfied grin taking over.
You sigh at the instant release, no longer immobilzed by the joint. "I will say," wiggling your hips to regain feeling, "I've never tried that one before."
At that, Dr. Shen can no longer hold in his laughter as practically cries out. He's leaning down on the edge of the computer, full hysterics consuming him. When he's semi-done, he wipes stray tears from his eyes, "This is why you're my favorite artist."
Before you can thank him for the much needed flattery, the trauma doors swing open again, but this time it's Sophie who rushes in. She looks exhausted, L.L Bean tote about to fall off her shoulders as she reaches to grab your hand.
"Oh thank god, are you okay?" She looks to both doctors for any sort of confirmation that you are perfectly in tact, "Is she alright now?" Sophie turns back to you, hands coming onto your face to examine you up close. You feel like a rag doll with everyone throwing you around.
Dr. Abbot stands with his hands behind his back next to Dr.Shen, eyes tracing your figure as subtle as he can. Which isn't subtle at all. "Dislocated hip, did a quick manuever to put it back into place so she should be okay to go home after we give you the discharge papers," he nods at you before adding, "… She's also a little high off of some morphine we gave her for her pain."
"Soph don't worry, I'm fine," you smile. You try throwing her a low-key wink, but it ends up coming out very cartoonish, "I was in great hands."
Her eyes glance over to Dr. Abbot,who is having a hard time not getting flustered at your comments, and then back to you. By the one comment she has witnessed, she knows she's going to have you at her hotel door in the morning ready to knock back a few mimosas to forget what happened in the E.R tonight.
"Wait! Sophie before we go we haveee to give them tickets to my next show," you point at Shen, "…he's a huge fan and he basically helped save the tour."
Dr. Shen looks like he could faint. Or vomit. One of them will happen sooner or later.
You look at Dr. Abbot, mouth opening before you can stop, "…Make sure the sexy doctor gets one, too."
Sophie looks embarrassed for you, one hand rubbing at her temple because she hopes this man doesn't have a wife. Or at the very least a daughter that listens to you. She's about to dismiss you, blame your words on the drugs or that you're running off of 4 hours of sleep when Abbot smiles.
He throws his non-sterile gloves in the trash, opening the door with his back as he steps out and nods,"See you at the show."
