summary: a dripping sink, a hot boyfriend. what could go wrong?
content: it's a blurb do i have to do this
warnings: none (also read previous statement)
characters: dennis whitaker, m!reader
word count: nope its a blurb
a/n: tbh it can be read as genderneutral but was intended as m!reader
a request by @gerranhowelllover
"hey."
the one word crackles through the receiver and your grin spreads across your face.
"hi."
dennis pauses for a second, and you swear you can hear him thinking.
"are you... on a landline?"
"mhm." you curl the cord in your fingers and lean against the wall. "the house was cheap and it came with a landline, so why not use it?"
"but how do you do things while you're on the phone?"
"i don't. speaking of, my sink's been dripping for a few days, i should-"
"i'll fix it!" dennis coughs. "i mean, i-i'll come over and, uh, take a look at it."
you stifle a laugh. "sure. see you in 5?"
the call clicks off and you hang the phone on the wall. you take one look at your surroundings and facepalm. you're still in pyjama pants and a tank top, your hair is extremely messy and your kitchen looks like someone defused a bomb unsuccessfully.
you slide into your bedroom, throw on a t-shirt and jeans, and glance at the mirror.
you look like cavetown. is that a bad thing?
you clean a bit of your kitchen before dennis pushes the door open. you gave him a key when you started dating - that's not weird. at least, you don't think so.
you give a quick wave and dennis joins you at the sink.
"it's been dripping for a week now. my water bill's gonna be out of this world."
"don't worry, hun. all we gotta do is turn off the water supply and replace a part. i've fixed tons of sinks." he cracks his knuckles and bends down.
"see here, these are the isolation valves. turn 'em ninety degrees and... water's off."
you nod, but your mind is elsewhere. his voice... the slight accent he gets...
god, you were not going to last.
"then you spin this back, and... that should do it. tap fixed."
"hmm?" your vision is snapped back to the tap. the leak is fixed.
"why thank you, kind sir. however shall i repay you?"
"don't worry about it, baby." dennis gives you a smile and heads for the door.
"no, dennis-"
"what?" his eyes are blue, but greenish-blue. not like ocean blue, lighter than that, but - oh my god, are you overanalysing his eyes?
the last of your resolve snaps, and then your lips are on his, and he's kissing you back and then...
he stops.
"you do actually have a landline."
"shut up and kiss me."
thank you @cafekitsune for these dividers (i've run out of colours gonna have to go onto the moon ones)
summary: santos can't seem to figure out for the life of her who former drug addict frank langdon is dating.
missamericanbi
bisexual is described as a sexual orientation defined as having the potential to be romantically and/or sexually attracted to people of more than one gender. but it's also 3% to 4% of the global population, which is about 249 million people. it's me (and most of my followers).
happy bisexual visibility day :)
liked by itsallgoingdownhill, noicegod, doubletrouble and 1283 others
comments
doubletrouble
AYYYY ITS BI PRIDE DAY EVERYONE and im still lonely
→ missamericanbi
don't worry dubs we all love you
mynamessantos
as a lesbian, happy pride my bisexual siblings
→ itsallgoingdownhill
yay! happy pride to you too bestie
→ mynamessantos
im working in an emergency room but yeah
→ missamericanbi
hey my boyfriend works in the er maybe youve met him?
→ mynamessantos
whats his name?
→ missamericanbi
frank
frankielangie
i tried to finish studying but a cuddle session was needed
liked by kingoftheer, robby.mike, soldierboy and 9 others
comments
kingoftheer
aw youre so cute together! send my wishes to her
→ frankielangie
thanks mel i think she likes you more than me
mynamessantos
you have a girlfriend?
→ frankielangie
why do you want to know
soldierboy
whatcha reading up on langdon?
→ frankielangie
bisexual history! it's for my girlfriend
→ soldierboy
lots of love from jack. what does bixesual mean
missamericanbi
i woke up and he was like this
liked by mynamessantos, micktheduck, ivehadit and 1023 others
comments
micktheduck
youve got a good one
→ missamericanbi
thanks mick!
drjofficial
man hes never like this at work
→ missamericanbi
im special javadi
mynamessantos
have i missed something? how does javadi and mel and jack know who you're dating? how does everyone know that you're dating someone? why did frank langdon of all people post a girlfriend appreciation post when he was reading up about bi history? WHATS GOING ON
→ missamericanbi
he hasn't told you?
frankielangie
is this a good way to propose?
liked by mynamessantos, missamericanbi, drjofficial and 29 others
comments
missamericanbi
ilysm my beautiful husband
→ frankielangie
not yet but sure
drjofficial
congrats!
→ kingoftheer
i second this too lazy to type
→ nebraskaboi
i third this too tired to type
mynamessantos
WHAT WHO DID YOU PROPOSE TO FRANK
→ frankielangie
how do you still not know?
→ missamericanbi
you work with an idiot frank
thank you @cafekitsune!
and thank you for reading <3
next stop: i... don't even know anymore but probably robby x reader for non-binary pride (im skipping over pansexual im very sorry but if anyone has any ideas for it click me 'ask me shit' box)
summary: It was terrible timing. A positive pregnancy test during your first year interning at PTMC turns your carefully planned future upside down. But while you're panicking at the prospect of pregnancy derailing your careers, Frank is utterly smitten with the fact he is going to be a dad... and you're going to be a mom.
warnings: set during Frank's first year as an intern, newly married, reader is also a first year intern, pregnancy symptoms and general discussion, talks about babies and financial stuff, reader is a little overwhelmed. mostly fluff. being a father is coded into this man's DNA, I swear-
notes: was thinking about how in canon, Frank had his son during his first year as an intern. and how surely, that could not have been planned exactly. and then this little thing was born (this troublesome thing which I'm not entirely happy with, but here she is nonetheless.)
So slow, you didn't even realize you'd begun to piece together a puzzle until you were looking at the finished picture. A quiet dawning that took shape over little things, expressed in tiny coincidences and symptoms you had ignored because surely... surely it couldn't be that.
It began with Frank's morning coffee.
The man loved to wake up early, a habit he hadn't quite shaken since his college football days. You were happy to mumble a quiet goodbye as he went out for a run, your cheek still smushed against your pillow because the sun hadn't even risen yet. And after returning home - glowing with sweat and a surge of adrenaline that did not help his ADHD whatsoever- he'd make his coffee.
Medium roast. That cheap protein creamer he insisted tasted good. A splash of your vanilla syrup he said he didn't use but you were positive you could taste sometimes.
Frank would make it, letting you take a sip and proudly smiling when you told him it tasted fine. Because it did. Add a little more vanilla, maybe some cinnamon or a bit of caramel, and the man could be a barista.
Until one morning.
When the smell of the roasted coffee alone was enough to churn your stomach as you make your way down the hall.
Odd.
But you had chalked it up to missing a few too many meals that week and your tragic sleep schedule.
The quiet suspicion grew when you found yourself crying.
All. The. Time.
It was like anything could, and would, set you off.
That cheesy Molly Ringwald movie you liked? Boom, you were tearing up.
The sad Lana Del Ray song that randomly queued in your playlist one morning? Crying as you stood sopping wet in the shower.
Frank surprises you with flowers one morning, a bouquet of your favorite tulips and an iced tea to go with it? Bam. You were hugging him with tears streaming down your face.
You dropped your favorite mug and it shattered? Sobbing. Inconsolably.
"Honey, you're alright," Frank rubs your shoulders as tears roll off your cheeks and plop onto the broken shards of the mug. "It's not too bad, we can fix it with some glue."
"I don't know why I'm crying so much," you stutter, lip quivering as you sniffle. "But it was my favorite mug. And now... now it's broken-"
Frank just sighs as you start all over again.
But then there was the problem with your scrubs. You were convinced your washer had shrunk them, the stretchy waistline beginning to dig into your belly. Not tightly or in any way that hurt. Just a noticeable snugness around your lower belly that definitely hadn't been there before. Weird. None of your other clothes were being shrunk.
Although your favorite summery dress had become a little tighter around the bust. And it didn't quite hug your frame in the same way it had before.
Then you were worried about gaining weight. You had brought it up one night after a long shift, downing a second helping of pizza because the three slices and salad you already had just wasn't cutting it. Frank had just brushed that thought away with a kiss to your temple, shoving another slice into his mouth.
"S' probably just your period."
Huh.
You lay in bed that night, Frank's arm thrown over your torso, his face buried into his pillow as he snores softly beside you.
Something about it all was bothering you. Like a forgotten thing sitting on the tip of your tongue.
Maybe it was your period.
Maybe you were just being overly critical because working in a hospital had taught you to over analyze everything. But you were beginning to wonder if something more was wrong with you. If these were all symptoms to something much worse.
The upset stomach. The mood swings. The crying. The exhaustion and weight gain.
Your period.
Huh. Actually, you can't remember the last time you had it...
Oh.
It hits you. Quietly. Totally and completely.
You don't sleep all that night. Don't mention it. You're theory. Not until a few days later after you clock in at PTMC, dragging Heather into the break room the first chance you get.
"What?" She hisses as you swallow thickly, wringing your hands nervously. "You think you're what?" Heather repeats. Like you hadn't just spelled it out plainly for her.
You couldn't keep it in for any longer, having to tell someone.
"I think I'm pregnant," you whisper, glancing at the open door, making sure no one was there to pick up on it. You already had a bad enough time with the rumor mill considering you were newly married and an intern. You didn't need to give Perlah or Princess any more ammunition for the betting board than they already had.
"Wow. That's... heavy."
"You're telling me," you let out a breath, your hand coming up to massage a sore spot on your abdomen, just below your ribs. Now, you weren't saying it was a baby cradled there beneath your rib cage, but if the shoe fit.
Pregnant.
You'd spent the past three days after your late night revelation reeling and overthinking every little thing. You hadn't told Frank, you couldn't yet. Not without knowing for sure.
"Did you take a test?" Heather asks, swirling the lukewarm dregs of coffee in her mug.
You shake your head.
"No. I can't even smuggle girl scout cookies in the house without Frank finding them within a day. I can't even imagine what he'd do if he found a test."
Heather gives you a look. "You haven't told him? Does he not want a baby?" You shake your head.
"Of course he does. I mean, we both do. It's just when we talked about starting a family it sounded like such a far away thing. In two or three years, you know? Not three months after we got married," you slide a hand down your face, continuing.
"Not to mention our internships. And we just put the down payment on a house. On top of our student loans and the car..." You go silent, spiraling about just how expensive a baby is. And how your plans to save and get somewhat out of debt was slowly crumbling-
"Hey," Heather says, gently gripping your shoulders, shaking you out of it. "It's going to be okay. Just take a breath." She inhales deeply, gesturing for you to do the same. You join her, taking slow, deep breaths until the shakiness of your hands and your hammering heart slowed.
"There. It's okay. Even if you had taken one of those store bought tests, they more often than not fluke. It could all just be a coincidence."
You give Heather an incredulous look.
"The crying? The nausea?"
"Maybe you're seeing something there you want to see. Cathedrals wherever you look kind of thing."
"But what if I'm not," You cross your arms. Heather shrugs.
You blink, tearing your eyes away from the informational sign plastered on the patient room wall you had been staring at for the past few minutes. Jack Abbot meets your eye, still stationed at the foot of the bed you were sitting on, elbows resting on his knees. The rolling chair he sits on creaks as he shifts slightly, the printed test results still held between his fingers.
"I'm fine." Abbot gives you a knowing look.
"Oh sure. And I'm bright and dandy." You take a shaky breath, hands tightly squeezed together. They had been shaking since he'd read out the results to you.
Heather had dragged you across the ED, cornering the poor night attending before he had a chance to sneak out after handoffs. If there was one doctor in the Pitt who'd be willing to bend the rules a little and hold onto a secret, it was him.
Abbot had been more than willing to help you out, seeing the sheer worry and anticipation vibrating through every fiber of your being.
You'd been in the hidden patient room for the past half hour, Heather covering for you the best she could. Frank was probably wondering where you'd snuck off to. You were almost afraid to leave the room now. Unsure if he'd be able to tell just by the look on your face.
Pregnant.
You were pregnant. About fifteen weeks by the sheer level of Hcg hormones coursing through your body. You were honestly surprised you hadn't noticed any of it sooner.
"It's okay to be scared you know," Jack says, head tilted to meet your eye. "Most women are a bit overwhelmed when they find out. Even the most prepared family planners can be caught off guard when it finally happens."
"I just... it happened so fast. And we were so careful." Abbot chuckles.
"Nothing I haven't heard before, kid." You shake your head.
"I shouldn't be scared. I mean, this... this is what I've always wanted. To be a mom. Have a baby."
"Sure. You can want it and still be scared too. The feelings aren't exclusively mutual."
"How can I be scared of something I want?" You look over at the older attending, like he somehow had all the answers. Jack sighs, running a hand through his gray curls.
"It's a lot to take in. You've had a lot of big life changes recently. Becoming an intern, getting married. Buying a house I heard too, right?" You nod. "And to top it off, you've got a baby to think about now. That on it's own is a big thing for any person to take in. I'm not surprised you're feeling nervous at all. No matter how much you want it."
You sigh, running your hands over your face. You could feel a headache coming on, your brain running a mile a minute. It was all too much. The questions. The planning. Where you would put a nursery, how you'd be able to keep up with bills and what your residency would look like.
Oh God. Your residency. Frank's residency.
You'd heard of the nightmare finding a specialty can be. Now add a baby into the mix? Someone you had to take care of and love and be with all the time.
What would Frank even think?
He was very clear from the start he wanted kids. But now? When you're both just at the beginning of your medical careers, both still figuring out how to handle marriage and balance individuality.
It was all so much to think about.
Hot tears prickle at your lash line and you sniff, shoulders shaking. Abbot grunts as he stands, moving to grab a box of tissues from the supply cart across the room.
You thank him quietly as he hands you the box, plucking one of the thin sheets and blowing your nose into it. Jack sits next to you, unfolding the results and looking down at them.
"If it's any consolation, I know for a fact Langdon will be over the moon about this." He looks over at you. "If that's something you're worried about."
You blink, warm tears still dribblign down your cheek. You nod. Abbot smiles.
"You've got nothing to worry about with him, kid. He's a good guy. A little high strung and arrogant. But he's got a good heart. He loves you. Think anyone could tell that just by the way he looks at you." You let out a small laugh, smiling. Abbot nods.
"And not that this means anything coming from an old attending like me, but if there's any two doctors who can handle this job and a kid, it's you guys."
You look over at Abbot, his usual serious exterior cracked slightly. He almost looked... proud. You smile.
"No. No that means a lot. Thanks Abbot."
"Anytime kid. I've got to get out of here before I end up working a double," he sighs, checking his watch. Jack passes you the test results, the paper shaking in your hands slightly. He gives your shoulder a gentle pat, standing with a slight wobble. "Just sit there for a bit more and try not to worry about it during your shift. There's plenty of time to tell Frank."
"Okay," you nod. "Thanks for the help Jack."
The attending gives you a closed lip smile, grabbing his camo backpack.
"Anytime."
You sit in silence for a bit after he leaves, feeling like the patient room could swallow you whole. You'd never been on this side of the ED before. Sitting on the paper covered bed, feeling like your world was tipped on it's head.
It was a strange change of perspective.
You stare down at the results numbers again, still trying to keep your breathing steady. Eventually, after hesitating for far too long, you slide a trembling hand over your abdomen.
There was a small swell there, one you hadn't really paid all that much attention too. An almost imperceptible curve of your lower belly, jutting out just slightly. You had passed it off as bloating. Too many of those Spanish lattes and not enough real food Frank always packed and you ignored.
It felt strange. Unreal to think that all this time, it had been a little person growing inside of you. That all this time, all the trouble and changes had been caused by something you couldn't even see.
"You are going to be trouble, aren't you?" You whisper. You feel a little weird, like you are talking to yourself. But you aren't.
It makes you want to find Frank and tell him about it. He'd understand. He always did. It's what made the two of you such a good pair. The reason why you fell in love between med classes and coffee dates.
There wasn't anyone else you'd want to have this with.
But it was overwhelming.
The door to the room finally opens quietly, the privacy curtain rustling as Heather's face peeks through the divided fabric.
"Hey," she gives you a soft and knowing smile. You look up at her, and she just knows.
"How far along?"
"Just past the second trimester." Her eyes widen, and she adjusts her red cardigan around her torso.
"Wow. That's..."
"I know," you nod. "I missed a whole third of it."
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Oh you know," you shrug and stand. Your fingers fiddle with the results paper as you look at Heather. "Bright and dandy. Or something like that." She makes a face.
"I would say you need a break, but, we kind of need you back here."
"I'm sure."
Heather pulls you into her side, giving you a quick hug as she guides you out into the ED's secluded hall.
"Besides. I actually came here to tell you Frank is going a little stir crazy without you. I think he's ready to stalk Ahmed's security cameras if he doesn't catch a glimpse of you soon."
You take a breath, trying to keep yourself from spiraling too much. Abbot was right. There would always be time later. You just had to get through this shift and then you could deal with it all.
The Pitt is loud when you reenter with Heather. You have to remember to remove your hand from where it was resting protectively over your belly. It takes all your mental energy to compose your face and try and not look like you were about to combust.
Especially when you almost run face first into Frank, his hands shooting out to keep you upright after you almost trip over your feet.
"Woah, hey! You alright? I've been looking everywhere for you."
"Fine!" You manage to squeak out, your face flushing bright red. Frank's brow raises high, concern written on his face. "I'm alright. I was just... I need to-"
Heather interjects, her hand coming to steer you away from your husband.
"You worry too much Frank. I told you she was talking with Abbot before he left. Now if you'll excuse us, we've got patients to see" she says over her shoulder as she starts guiding you towards the nurses station.
But Frank is quicker than her, reaching out to tug your arm back gently. You still, heart pounding in your throat.
"Are you sure you're fine? You're looking kinda pale." You look up at Frank, his big blue eyes round with worry.
Goodness, you hope your baby would have his eyes-
If Heather wasn't still squeezing your shoulder, you swear you'd probably break down right there. You clutch the test results tighter in your hand, shaking your head.
"Frank... I'm fine. Abbot was just helping me with something. It's all good now."
"Okay. Just, don't disappear on me like that again."
"You worry wart," you manage a smile, slipping your arm out of Frank's grip.
You're going to be a dad in a few months time. And you don't even know it.
"Hey kid... You okay?" Robby's voice rips you from your thoughts as Heather pushes you towards the nurses station. You look up, feeling out of it; the only thing grounding you was the feeling of the paper still clutched tightly in your hand. The chief attending shares a look with Heather, his eyes boring into you over the rim of his spectacles.
"Fine," you manage, trying not to choke on the fact that you were fully realizing the weight of the test results still clutched in your hand.
It was not longer a suspicion. It was fact. A fact stitched into your very being, hidden away inside of you.
Frank knows something is up. It's obvious by the way you're avoiding him.
The way you seem to always be on the opposite side of the Pitt when he looks for you. The strange look you that keeps crossing your face. Like you were halfway between crying and laughing.
You had been acting strange the past couple of days.
Actually, if Frank really thought about it, you'd been a little out of it for a while now. Quieter. More lost in thought than usual. Constantly fighting exhaustion or feeling under the weather.
Frank couldn't help but worry. Especially because you seemed so sad. He could see it on your face now, his eyes glued to your frame as you sat with a patient, your hands gently moving as you explained something to them. He's trying to look busy with the supply cart he was standing by, and not like he was spying on you.
He could worry about you, couldn't he?
It had always been a little hard to separate his relationship with you and his professionalism. Frank supposes that's what happens when you marry your med school sweetheart-
if that was what one even called it.
The lines tend to get a little blurry. Things get harder to leave behind when walking into work.
It hadn't been a problem so far. At least, Frank didn't think so. Some of the nurses might disagree. With their nosy betting boards and rumor mills that were going to be the death of him.
Frank looks up as Robby passes by, giving him a smile and a strong pat on the shoulder.
"Everything good Langdon?"
"Uh, peachy Robby."
"Good. Keep up the good work." Frank nods, grinning.
He liked the chief attending. Liked how Robby didn't make it a big deal that Frank was married to a fellow resident. When you both had approached the man about your engagement last year, just finishing up your last year as a med student, Robby had just shrugged and carried on.
"Yeah. We can work something out about that. You two seem level headed enough to handle work and a wedding."
Now Frank doesn't mean to overhear Robby's conversation. It's almost surprising he can hear it at all from where he's stationed.
But Frank supposes that's how most of the nurses manage to dig up information on each other. Nothing was safe or secret in the Pitt for long.
"What was all that about earlier with Jack?" Dana asks as the attending approaches the nurses station. Robby sighs.
"Oh, you know him. He's always got a secret consult or two."
"A consult?"
Frank's ears prickles at that. You were supposedly talking with Abbot earlier. You didn't mention anything about a consult.
"Yeah. Apparently he needed to run a pregnancy test for an 'off the books' patient."
"Off the books?" Dana laughs. "Uh oh."
Robby chuckles dryly. "I know. Think we should get a betting board going about which one of us it is?"
Frank leans in closer, his heart beginning to pound as he tries to register what that meant.
What on earth were they talking about?
"God knows it's not me. Has to be a nurse." Robby shrugs.
"Or maybe one of the residents -"
Frank's hand slips on the supply cart he was leaning on, the wheels unlocking beneath his weight and sending the cart crashing into the wall beside him.
Frank looks up alarmed, meeting Dana and Robby's wide eyes. He swallows thickly, letting out a mumbled 'sorry' before fixing the cart and disappearing down the hall.
His heart pounds in his chest as he clutches the front of his scrubs, his eyes darting around the Pitt trying to find you. There was no way. It couldn't be-
Frank thinks he must have heard Robby wrong. A pregnancy consult? A resident?
He must have got it all wrong.
Because you weren't pregnant. The two of you had just gotten married. You'd only been living under the same roof for a max of four months-
Pregnant!
Frank is sure he would have noticed. Aren't there syptoms? Signs?
He's a doctor. He should know this.
But as he stalks down the hall, eyes darting across every face he passes in an attempt to find you, he finds all his medical knowledge has been thrown out the window.
Everything he'd learned from a textbook about obstetrics is gone. Replaced with the sole idea that he might be a father.
Frank can't help the way his mouth quirks upward. The slight grin he was unconsciously wearing in spite of the fact his heart was beating so fast, he was sure he'd rupture an artery if he didn't calm down.
Frank slows his pace, neck craning as he searches down the crowded hall for you.
He doesn't have to look much further, because there you are. Your hair pulled up in messy ringlets, your water bottle lid clutched in one hand as the other presses the jug against the fountain. You stand there, watching as water trickles into the metal canister, a far away look in your eye.
He stills, watching you from his place down the hall. And Frank knows.
He knows just by looking at you.
Really looking at you.
How had he not noticed? How had anyone not noticed?
You were glowing.
Radiant in an unnaturally ethereal way that most doctors only got from a week long vacation in the Bahamas. Frank was connecting all the dots now, remembering various comments you'd made in the past few weeks about food or being tired. He remembers something you'd mentioned about your clothes shrinking in the dryer-
God, that was the most apparent part. The part that really gets him.
Because staring at you now, Frank is almost positive you are already showing. It's barely there. Just a slight swell pressing against the waistband of your scrubs. Most people wouldn't even notice.
But he can see it. He knows you well enough to know the swell he's looking at now had not been there last week, or even a few weeks ago.
Frank is still staring at you when you finally finish filling your bottle and turn. You freeze, eyes wide as you look up to meet him. Frank can see the way you pause, the stiffness that courses through you.
The panic that flashes across your face. The realization-
He knows. Somehow he knows.
Frank just gives you a small smile, reassuring and kind. Loving. He approaches you slowly, feeling a little like he did when he first wanted to ask you out. Unsure and scared but certain of one thing.
He loves you. Totally and completely.
You stare up at him wide eyed, pupils blown with anxiety. Frank stops just in front of you, half aware of the other doctors and hospital staff who skirt around the two of you. He reaches out carefully, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
You let out a trembling breath, eyes not leaving his face, trying to read the emotion on it. Frank reaches for your hand and nods toward the other side of the hall.
You can't say anything. Don't even know what you would say.
You follow Frank as he guides you through the throng of hospital staff, his hand grounding and warm as he holds yours firmly. He leads the way to the ambulance bay, pulling you out into the warm afternoon breeze.
You blink, eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight. Frank just turns, looking you up and down.
"Is it true?" You freeze.
"What?"
"Is it- are you..." Frank pauses, thinking for a moment. Then he begins again. "Was the thing Abbot helped you with about a pregnancy test?"
You stare at him for a moment, caught off guard.
But then you nod. And Frank beams.
You swear his smile is brighter than the sunlight filtering into the ambulance bay, and you let out a surprised gasp as he gathers you in his arms.
"Frank!" You let out a wet laugh, unable to help it with the way he's holding you so tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting yourself close your eyes and melt into him.
"I can't believe it. I can't- we're having a baby."
"Frank," you start when he finally puts you down, cupping his face in an attempt to ground his wandering thoughts. "Frank, how did you know-"
"I overheard something Robby said. I didn't mean to, but I put two and two together and-"
You sigh, scratching the back of your head. "Nothing stays secret in the Pitt for long. I didn't even know until this morning. Not for sure anyway."
"No," Frank shakes his head, his hands reaching out to rest on your hips. "And I don't think it would have for much longer. You've got a mini bump already, baby."
You flush, looking away. "I do not."
"You do," Frank grins. Your smile falters slightly, shoulders dropping.
"I was trying to figure out how to tell you all morning. I almost had to redo an entire patient chart, I was so nervous thinking about it-"
"Nervous?" Frank frowns, his eyes softening. "Hey, what are you nervous about?" You laugh in disbelief.
"What's there not to be nervous about, Frank? We just got married! We're new interns! This isn't exactly the most opportune time to have a baby."
"Is there ever?" Frank shrugs. You give him a look. Always the idealist. "Sure, it's a little early-"
"Frank! A little? My mom just sent us another wedding gift from my great aunt across the country."
"Well, yeah okay. We just got married. So what if we're having a honeymoon baby? We both agreed we wanted kids, right? This was always the place we'd end up eventually."
"It's not just that," you sigh. "I mean, what happens if I have this baby and I can't go back to work? All that financial pressure on you? Having to juggle a wife and a baby and the ED? That's too much-"
"Hey," Frank shakes his head, reaching out to cup your face. "You don't have to worry about what I can handle or can't. It's a lot, I won't deny that. I'm scared at the idea of having someone so little to take care of so soon. But baby, I'd be lying if I said I'm not excited."
You let out a shaky breath, pouting as you stare into his baby blue eyes.
Goodness, you hope your baby would have his eyes-
The thought seems less scary now. Frank grins, thumb brushing across your cheek.
"A baby? With you? My wife and love. I can't think of a better thing to be surprised with."
"But-" Frank presses a kiss against your lips, your next protest lost as you grip the fabric of his scrubs and kiss him back. He smiles against your mouth, a little breathless and flushed.
"Honey, it's going to be okay. I promise."
"Are you sure Frank? Are you sure it's not too much?"
"No. It's just the right amount of 'much.' We always did like to make things a little fun, right?"
You laugh. "I guess so."
He sighs, pulling away slightly to look down at you.
"Another Langdon. "I can't believe it."
You smile into his chest.
"I can't either."
You were still scared. Still overwhelmed at all the changes that would be taking place over the next few months.
As it turns out, waking up at the crack of dawn has become the norm for both of you now. You lounge on the couch, legs propped up on the cushions with a few extra pillows, the smell from the kitchen heavenly as it wafts through the living room.
You can just make out the backside of Frank's tall frame, shoulders hunched slightly as he pours two cups of the freshly brewed coffee- decaf. Something you'd had to adjust to the past six months.
You smile as a gentle gurgling draws your attention back to the tiny baby boy in your arms.
"Hey Benny," you carefully cradle the newborn, his onesie covered legs scrunched up as you shift him into a better position. "I'm still here. Just making sure your dad doesn't put too much of his creamer in my cup. I don't think you'd like it."
"I heard that," Frank's voice carries from the kitchen.
"Well, it's true," you call back. Ben, just blinks at you, tongue sticking out of his mouth like he wasn't sure of what to do with it. You chuckle, staring at his pretty blue eyes, a shade darker than Franks.
Frank swore they were a darker color when the boy was first born. But you knew. It was the first thing you'd noticed through the tears and exhaustion.
They were the same cerulean shade as your husband's. Glimmering beneath the light. A deep and pretty blue that was piercing and beautiful at the same time.
You can hear the clinking sounds of glass, Frank coming into the living room balancing two coffee mugs in one hand and a plate of scones and hard boiled eggs in the other. You give him a tired smile, beginning to move your legs off the couch when he stops you.
"Oh no mama. I'll sit on the floor."
"With your back-"
"You are still recovering," He insists, setting down the plate and mugs on the coffee table. "Besides, I can change this little guy down here while you start eating."
Frank bends lower to run a hand over the soft fuzz on your son's head, your husband wearing a dreamy smile. You nod, giving a quiet okay as you hand over the boy. Frank cradles the baby's neck carefully, his muscled arms practically engulfing the little boy.
You watch fondly as Frank sits down on the floor in front of you, practically a professional at juggling a baby and diaper bag already.
Truth be told, you couldn't imagine your mornings any other way now.
summary: an impulse decision leads to a new member of the family
a/n: hey guys! I AM SO BACK! happy pride to the gays, theys and everyone in between - we're doing a series! starting with lesbian until the end of the month.
a/n: this takes place in the same universe as mystery girl except time jump and they're now married! (for those who haven't read mystery girl thecottagelivinggal and thebestsantos are the same person - reader!)
thebestsantos
i may have gotten a cocker spaniel...
liked by crash.javadi, michaelrobinavitch, farmboydenny and 14 others
comments
theholytrinity
my beautiful wife... call me now.
→ thebestsantos
IM SORRYYYYYYY she was at the shelter
frankiebear
aw wish you all the best from rehab
→ danasincharge
you allowed a phone in rehab?
→ frankiebear
be nice to me for once im a recovering drug addict
theholytrinity
HAPPY PRIDE BITCHES
liked by thebestsantos, melissaking, parktheellis and 23 others
comments
melissaking
as your favourite ally happy pride!! <3
→ thebestsantos
youre the only adult ive seen use <3 unironically
→ melissaking
sorry
parktheellis
QUEERS UNITE
→ theholytrinity
we ride at dawn
thecottagelivinggal
meet mischief my cottagers!!
liked by theholytrinity, myfavouritecolours, rosesforruby and 25,473 others
comments
theholytrinity
fitting name... those were my doritos.
rosesforruby
ahhhh our queen has returned!!
→ thecottagelivinggal
i got married!!
→ rosesforruby
omg slay queen
crash.javadi
don't worry trin's warming up to her
theholytrinity
this dog... is actually kind of cute!!
liked by thebestsantos, mamacottageliving, farmboydenny and 26 others
comments
crash.javadi
AYYY WE WON
farmboydenny
who did the hair?
→ thebestsantos
who you think??
→ farmboydenny
i genuinely cannot tell
mamacottageliving
we love you mischief!
→ thebestsantos
hey mama!
crediting @cafekitsune for these pride dividers
thanks for reading <3
next stop? dennis whitaker x m!reader for gay pride
so I might be taking a little break because I literally do not have any ideas (that being said my requests are always open). I’m really sorry if you’ve just followed and I’ve immediately stopped writing!!
summary: back in pittsburgh after a while, your new neighbour is none other than the girl who bullied you in high school. hang on, when did she get hot?
content: enemies to lovers, wlw, trinity santos is headcanoned as a bully in high school (which adds to her guilt ahhh)
warnings: swearing, making out, lesbianism, mentions of self-harm and suicide.
characters: trinity santos, robinavitch!reader, dennis whitaker, mentions of michael robinavitch
word count: 1.2k
a/n: CAN WE ALL THANK SABRINA CARPENTER FOR THE ABSOLUTE BANGER AND INSPO FOR FANFICS THAT IS MAN'S BEST FRIEND?
you sigh as you pull your suitcase up the three flights of stairs. 'for fuck's sake, why the hell is there no elevator?' an elderly lady gives you a look and hobbles past you. 'sorry, miss!' you call out after her.
when you finally reach your apartment, the door is open slightly, and you drag your hand over your face.
'hello? anyone broken in?'
a guy is sitting on your couch, watching some shit reality show like love island or mafs. you breath, clutching your purse as if you were going to bash his head in (you weren't).
he glances up at the sound of your voice echoing through the apartment.
'oh! uh, you must be the new tenant!'
'yeah. i am. why are you watching tv in my flat?'
the man coughs. 'yeah, about that...' he rubs the back of his neck. 'my roommate always hogs the tv when i want to watch a show, so i come in here. the old tenant used to get us to cat-sit for him.'
'huh. crazy cat man?'
'unsurprisingly, yes.'
'well, thanks for the less-than-unusual explanation.' you give him your name and flash a small, unenthusiastic smile.
'dennis, dennis whitaker.'
'you do the james bond thing?'
'it's not really the james bond thing. that would be 'whitaker, dennis whitaker.' there's a difference.'
'right. where you from?' you ask, setting your bags down.
'nebraska. i was living in a hospital wing until she offered me her spare room. my roommate, i mean.'
'i'm from pittsburgh. but i moved to detroit when i was... about 17? my dad stayed here though.'
'junior year? damn.'
'yeah. i was getting bullied.'
'by who? little scumbags.'
you stare at dennis. 'scumbags?'
'sorry.' he looks at his feet.
'i'm messing with you. one girl, can't really remember what she looked like. i remember her name though. trinity santos. little bitch made me drop out.'
dennis, who had taken a big gulp of water, nearly chokes.
'my god, are you okay?' you ask, running over and slapping him on the back.
'y-yeah, i'm fine. you might not be, though.' you hear the door creak and glance up.
and it's trinity santos.
hold the phone. when did she get hot?
her hair is shorter now, with a slightly choppy fringe that's clipped back. her nails are short and red, but the paint is peeling off. her shirt reads 'my favourite thing about you is your girlfriend', and her keys are hanging off her jeans.
holy fuck, is the only thing you can think of.
trinity's lips curl into a sneer and she barks out a small, short laugh. 'well, if it isn't the total prodigy of mount lebanon high school!'
'how are you, santos? you capable of friendliness yet?'
dennis' eyes dart between the two of you and he slips past trinity into the hallway. 'i might leave you to figure this out yourselves.'
you glare at trinity. 'make yourself comfortable, invade my privacy once again. why the fuck are you even here?'
'i live with dennis. or rather, dennis lives with me.'
'well, you're gonna have to move.'
she turns and crosses her arms. 'oh, no fucking way. do you know how cheap rent is here?'
'yeah, that's why i chose it. plus, i'm closer to my dad anyway.'
'oh yes, mr. robinavitch will be so very happy to see you home, and he'll probably devastate you with some news about his sabbatical where he's driving off a bridge.'
'that's why i'm here! my dad is not being fucking suicidal this year.'
'too late.' she snorts.
heat pools in your lower stomach and you groan internally. you were not getting attracted to this woman. you just couldn't.
that being said, her shirt...
trinity collapses onto the couch. 'can you make me a coffee?'
'why would i do that?'
she sits up, propping herself on her elbows. 'because i asked, dipshit.'
you attempt to resist, but eventually find yourself opening the pantry and turning the machine on. 'only because i'm tired.'
she doesn't even say thank you. and, to be honest, that turns you on more than you want to admit.
you pass her the mug of coffee and sit down on the couch. as trinity stretches, her socks brush your thigh and you try to contain a shiver.
you decide to come out with it. 'how the fuck did you go from trinity santos, junior year bully to trinity santos, lesbian shirt and lying on bullying victim's couch?'
she takes a sip of her drink. 'i dunno. guess when i graduated, realised i was a horrible person and also was attracted to like, half of my targets.'
your ears perk up at that. 'what?'
'yeah. i think the only reason i picked on them was because in all of the movies, the bully gets with the cute guy.'
'you should've watched but i'm a cheerleader.'
'i did. i, however, did not want to get sent to a conversion therapy camp.'
you laugh at that and trinity gives you a look. you, laughing at a joke she made?
you look back at her and set your coffee on the table, her green eyes meeting yours.
you subtly (well, not entirely) shift so that your hand is closer to trinity's, and a faint blush dusts her cheeks.
'how did you go from bullied kid to moving back to pittsburgh to take care of your suicidal father who may or may not work with your childhood bully?' she asks, scooting closer.
'what?'
'he never told you?'
'he doesn't tell me anything. that's his whole schtick.'
you meet trinity in the middle of the couch, bodies so close you can feel the heat radiating off her.
'i work at the pitt. intern.'
you nod, but you're not really listening. 'uh-huh.'
'you're not listening, are you?'
you shake your head, brushing a stray strand of hair behind trinity's ear. something in her snaps, and she grabs your face and kisses you.
you're shocked.
after a while, you sink into your fate, kissing trinity back with a passion that can only be described as the most passionate of all fruits - the passionfruit. it's that passionate.
slowly, trinity pushes you back onto the couch, your head resting against the armrest. your bodies slot together, her knee between your legs.
you break away for oxygen and glance up at trinity. 'you sure you wanna do this?'
'fuck, i've been wanting to do this since that stupid fight on the oval when even though i'd been fucking bullying you from freshman year, you stood up for me. in that moment i knew i was a lesbian and in that moment i wanted to fuck you so bad.'
you glance at her arms, which are parallel to your face. small scars stretch from just above her wrist, up, up into her shirt.
scars attributed to the cold metal blades of scissors and scalpels.
you soften.
'trin...' you say, watching as her gaze follows yours.
'it's nothing.'
'it's not.'
she sighs.
'after... after high school. i felt so shitty. and... i just couldn't stop myself.'
'when... when was the last time?'
'2 years ago. i'm getting better, i promise so can we just-'
'no. we can't because i do not need to worry about another person i love hurting themselves.'
'my dad is probably going to throw himself off of a building on his sabbatical and i can't do anything about that, so please, trin.'
'make me a promise to not do it again.'
trin nods, and you smile, kissing her.
then you pause. 'when did you get hot?'
thanks for reading <3
@cafekitsune made these dividers
likes, comments, reblogs and/or follows are ALWAYS welcomed
my requests are open and i might possibly run a commision event soon đź¤
so i recently stumbled across one HELL of a video (which you can find here) and decided to do some research into and found 17776!
if you don't know what 17776 is, it's a webnovel made in 2017 by a guy called jon bois. the story takes place in future earth, where all humans became immortal and infertile on april 7th 2026. it's told through the perspective of three sapient space probes nicknamed nine, ten and juice. it's basically about what football looks like in the future, but it's what i saw someone call 'analogue hope'.
it's so fucking cute i love it. there's also a sequel called 20020!!
IF YOU WANT TO GET INTO IT PLEASE DO. YOU CAN FIND THE WEBSITE BY SEARCHING 17776 AND CLICKING THE FIRST ARTICLE WHICH IS TITLED 'WHAT FOOTBALL WILL LOOK LIKE IN THE FUTURE.' i cannot link it here because i have already accessed the webnovel through the website but it's that simple. please go read it. it's so good.
dennis x reader where reader works at a cafe in the hospital, saw dennis was struggling a little (dude probably paid for a $3 item in nickels and dimes lmao) and now sneaks him older coffee/pastries for free or buys him coffee as long as he tests out their concoctions… i just find it a lil cute : )
summary: dennis whitaker is broke. but he's also cute. and he also loves caramel coffee.
content: FLUFF, TEETH-ROTTING FLUFF
warnings: minimal swearing
characters: dennis whitaker, barista!reader, mentions of dana evans and john shen
word count: 1.1k
a/n: short fluffy fic because i'm so tired. i think i switched tense like 10 times.
a request by @c-est-comme-ca
the bell on the counter rung. once. softly, almost shy. you glance up at the customer shuffling awkwardly to the front of the line.
a few years ago, you had gotten a job in a hospital running the cafe. the materials at your disposal were... abysmal, to be honest, but you managed to salvage it and now a steady stream of customers arrived. mainly doctors and nurses, but ever so occasionally a patient or would be served.
the guy fumbling with his wallet now was forgettable to most. average height, slight smile, just another customer. but you didn't forget faces. it was one of the reasons the cafe was so loved.
he cleared his throat. "uh, one medium caramel coffee, please."
"sweet tooth?" you ask, flicking the espresso machine on.
"oh, um, yeah, i guess." he laughs nervously and you grin.
"no need to be nervous around me, doctor. i'm just a lowly barista."
"i'm... actually, uh, not a doctor yet. i'm a med student."
"even better." you slide him the cup. "$3."
he dug in his wallet for a bit before pouring a selection of nickels and dimes on the counter.
"oh!" you say, surprised by the coins that were now pooling around his coffee.
"sorry. i don't have many bills." and with that, the guy emptied his wallet onto the counter. a measly dollar bill drifted to sit on top of the towers of nickels and dimes.
you felt... sad. this med student, who was obviously struggling for money, working long shifts every day to keep food on the table. and he was offering to pay you for a caramel coffee that took you a minute to make?
"hey, it's on the house." you grab his coins and put them back in his wallet.
he looks up. he has doe eyes, you think. sweet, innocent.
"really? you'd be willing to do that?"
you nod. "i get enough tips from night shift anyway."
"i never realised you work nights too."
"not always. but it's nice. i like it."
he hums in agreeance and extends his hand. "dennis. dennis whitaker."
you shake his outstretched palm and reply with your name.
"nice to meet you. i think i like this coffee place the best now."
you laugh, wave him off and go back to your monotonous routine. hello, coffee, money, repeat.
a few days later, you're standing in the waiting room, talking to lupe as you slide a crossaint underneath the glass, and see dennis whitaker, the cute caramel coffee guy, push through the throb of patients into the hospital.
you run after him.
"hey! med student! dennis! caramel coffee!"
eventually you catch his attention.
"oh! hi, i didn't realise you were, uh, there."
you dig through your bag and hand him a lunchbox and drink. his eyes contort into confusion.
"you... brought me lunch."
"i did, because i figured you'd much rather have a toastie than a patient ham and tomato sandwich."
he checks the coffee. "and you remembered my order."
"i remember things."
he nods slightly, his gaze drifting down to the lunchbox. "a cheese toastie. you packed me a cheese toastie. this morning. with your own free will."
you smile. "i'll see you around, sweet tooth."
"you too, salvation army."
you snort at the nickname and head towards the cafe.
"hey, salvation army."
you turn to the counter and grin. dennis smiles back at you. that smile you've grown to love, that smile that ignites a feeling deep inside you. you can't quite name it yet.
you slide him a mug and a cheese toastie. "try it. vanilla sweet cream cold brew."
"wha-"
"i know, not your usual order. but you're sweet tooth and i'm salvation army, so it fits."
he takes a tentative sip of the drink. then another. then another, until he's had half of the coffee and places the mug gingerly down.
"holy shit, you make good coffee."
"i know." you make another one for him. "take it. if you blindly drink my potions, you should get rewarded."
dennis picks up the toastie and coffee cup. "you, salvation army, are a saint in disguise."
you came to work on your birthday.
i mean, it's not strange. you got wished a happy day by lupe and a few of the nurses, but the main reason you didn't call in sick was because you had news.
and big news at that.
the first person you told was dana. she smiled, gave you a tight hug and wished you the best.
eventually john shen, with his dunkin coffee (that he refused to trade in for yours), found out. he gave you a very rushed card. you thanked him.
and then you had to tell dennis.
he was first in line at the cafe, like so many days before. his hair was slowly growing into a modern mullet, and his badge was pinned to his scrubs. he looked every bit the part to save lives, to be honest.
"why, good morning, sweet tooth."
"good day to you also, salvation army."
"i've come up with a new initiative. 'specials for sweet tooth!'"
he laughs at that, and your heart warms. you lean over the counter, grin getting wider.
"today's special: vietnamese coffee with a jam and custard tart."
"wow. you made all this last night?"
"i did, sweet tooth."
dennis reaches into his pocket. it's strange, because you know he hasn't tried to pay you for his coffees since the first time you met him. it's your agreement.
"dennis, y'know you don't have to-"
he pulls out a $10 note. "will that be enough?"
the feeling that's been growing inside of you ever since you met cute sweet tooth gets a little bigger. "y-yeah, it'll be enough."
he takes his coffee and tart, places a dollar into the tip jar, and you nearly forget about your news.
"hey, sweet tooth!"
he turns. "what?"
"get back here."
he walks back to the counter, leaning on his elbows. "i have people to take care of, salvation army."
"i know. but, um, i saved up to buy, uh, rent, actually, a shop in pittsburgh. i'll be moving there at the end of the month."
whitaker's face falls, and a pang of guilt hits you in the gut. but then he gives you a big smile. "hey, that's amazing! your own cafe!"
you breath a sigh of relief. "thanks. i just hope you can make it there every morning."
"i might."
dennis woke up in a bed that was not his.
after regaining adequate consciousness, he pulled on socks, discarded underneath the bed, and padded down the hallway. whose house was this, he wondered. and why was i in their bed?
the strong smell of caramel coffee hit his nostrils as he approached the kitchen and he laughed.
"salvation army?"
"hey, you're up!"
"yeah, i'm up."
you pause, handing him a mug with 'world's worst barista' emblazoned across the front.
"have some coffee."
"yeah. yeah, i'd like that."
thanks for reading <3
@cafekitsune for my dividers
likes, comments, reblogs and/or follows are welcomed with open arms!
